Xalid Abdurrahman was a member of the Berwari tribe and worked as a teacher in the village of Kani Mezin in the region Kani Masi region of Southern Kurdistan. Until a few days ago, he lived in the village lined with fruit trees with his wife and five children. Now he is a folk hero and unforgettable martyr of his country.

His life took a sudden turn when explosions were heard at 10:30 a.m. on August 20. He did not have to do anything at all. He could have simply watched the horror in the immediate vicinity. He could have remained silent about the occupation of his country. He could have cared only for himself and his family.

But he did not, because he was a man who really loved his country, an educated Kurd who knew what it was worth living for.

As he unsuspectingly worked in his garden, the pressure waves of exploding grenades shattered the air. Before he had even realized what was happening, he encountered an injured guerrilla fighter who asked him for help. It was probably the first time he saw an injured guerrilla fighter. He did not hesitate and saved the injured man by helping him out of the area out of a Kurdish reflex. The air raids continued, but he felt the responsibility to rescue more injured. His wife and the guerrilla fighter asked him to wait for the end of the attacks, but he immediately ran back to the scene of the attack.

Who knows, maybe he found another injured person. Maybe a rocket hit him while searching for more wounded. He died there.

I don't know what modern novels are about and what the terms virtue, pride and heroism still mean. I do know, however, that under the occupation in Kurdistan, Xalid behaved like a Kurd, who kept his dignity in the brutal war that has been going on for hundreds of years.

I am not writing this text in our common mother tongue Kurdish. This is done on purpose, because the Turkish-speaking fascist occupiers and their pathetic followers should know what unites us Kurds and how strong the bond among us is. They should know Xalid Abdurrahman's story.

Those who assume that we as a liberation movement can only keep ourselves by force in Southern Kurdistan [Bashur], that the population of Behdinan is not behind the PKK but under the influence of other Kurdish organizations, should see the reality. Those who claim that the fighters of the people of Kurdistan are only temporarily in Bashur and have no connection to the people here, should see the reality that is hidden behind the iron curtain of their thinking.

I ask: How many fathers would be able to come to the aid of their children under a hail of bombs? How many elder brothers would run to their brothers and sisters under the impact of the shells? Or how many people would leave their families behind to help other people under the fighter jets?

A Kurd, who really loves his country and believes that the guerrillas fight for his freedom and dignity, can do this. Especially if he knows that one cannot live without dignity. Then he may run to his death because he considers the life of a fighter even more valuable than his own.

I continue to ask: What does the story of Xalid Abdurrahman from Behdinan say to a person from Southern Kurdistan? What is the message of this story for the village guards from Bakur [Northern Kurdistan], who participate in the operation as hunting dogs of the occupying forces? In which paradise did teacher Xalid believe when he ran into the hell of the deadly fighter jets? And what does his attitude tell the intellectuals, women and youth in Kurdistan? What does it say to the profit-seeking followers of a family, tribe or party who persistently refuse to accept an inter-Kurdish unity?

I am a Kurdish woman who has found her identity on the occupied territory of Bakur. I am a guerrilla fighter in Bashur who feels connected to Xalid Abdurrahman and thousands of other Kurds in Behdinan in their love for their country. I am a freedom fighter from Kurdistan. As guerrillas, we have made it our life's work to realize the dreams of freedom of all dignified people in all parts of Kurdistan, in all cities and villages. May Xalid and all who represent the dignity, pride and love for the country rest in peace. May the tens of thousands who give life to the soil of Kurdistan with their blood rest in peace...

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