My name is Seyithan Enç
My name is Seyithan Enç
My name is Seyithan Enç.
In the year of 1990, in one of the days of a severe winter, I was born in the village of Gülyazý next to Roboski…
Till the high school, I used to get a certificate of appreciation or achievement. However, earning your bread and surviving is much more important than going to school in this territory . That’s why I dropped out of my school…
I happened to leave my homeland and make for Istanbul.
The huge Istanbul seemed as if it would swallow me up. In the first day, I stood in the face of the city and said; “Either you will swallow me up or I will swallow you up, the great city”. It must have got angry with me as I could hardy extricate myself from it. I turned back home before Istanbul swallowed me up, to find my homeland ruined. The soil, yards and sheeps in my village; none of them was as beautiful as they were before…
I gave my heart to the neighboring village where I left both my soul and heart. “I should confess that winning a girl’s heart was more difficult than taking wings” but I managed to steal her heart.
We agreed to give in marriage; we were going to work and make a home of love in our poor lives. We were still going to be poor but at least we were going to support and help each other…
I did my military service in Urfa and the first thing I was going to do after my return was to get married. When I finished my service, I however had neither an opportunity nor money to marry…
I had no credit on my mobile phone that day. I so to say suffered. It would be enough to hear her voice for once. The time was going by as I was looking and staring at my phone but I couldn’t call her and speak just a few words. I would at least be able to buy credit if I went to smuggling. Wasn’t it worth crossing the mountains to hear her voice?
We couldn’t cross the mountains, the black cannonballs pierced through our breast. In the age of technology, a young boy was killed while on the way to hear the voice of his beloved…
Do you know that the death also has wings, like the wings of love. However, death was more eager than my darling to hug me…
Neither me nor she will be able to hear the voice of the other again…What is left behind me are several good words to ring in ears, a photograph, dilapidated dreams, a destitute mother and siblings…
This may annoy you but I have several words to say;
I demand justice,
If the bombs that killed me didn’t kill the justice too…
Doesn’t everyone have the right to justice?
Or,
Should I apologize to the state because it has warted those huge, expensive bombs for killing me,
Should I thank the General Staff for not missing the target and for killing me!?
* Platform for Justice for Roboski publishes the life story of 34 people from the villages of Roboski and Gülyazý who were killed by bombs on 28 December, 2011. These stories which will be published for 34 days are also sent to the offices of President, Prime Minister, Ministry of Justice and Interior Ministry via fax and mail.
In the year of 1990, in one of the days of a severe winter, I was born in the village of Gülyazý next to Roboski…
Till the high school, I used to get a certificate of appreciation or achievement. However, earning your bread and surviving is much more important than going to school in this territory . That’s why I dropped out of my school…
I happened to leave my homeland and make for Istanbul.
The huge Istanbul seemed as if it would swallow me up. In the first day, I stood in the face of the city and said; “Either you will swallow me up or I will swallow you up, the great city”. It must have got angry with me as I could hardy extricate myself from it. I turned back home before Istanbul swallowed me up, to find my homeland ruined. The soil, yards and sheeps in my village; none of them was as beautiful as they were before…
I gave my heart to the neighboring village where I left both my soul and heart. “I should confess that winning a girl’s heart was more difficult than taking wings” but I managed to steal her heart.
We agreed to give in marriage; we were going to work and make a home of love in our poor lives. We were still going to be poor but at least we were going to support and help each other…
I did my military service in Urfa and the first thing I was going to do after my return was to get married. When I finished my service, I however had neither an opportunity nor money to marry…
I had no credit on my mobile phone that day. I so to say suffered. It would be enough to hear her voice for once. The time was going by as I was looking and staring at my phone but I couldn’t call her and speak just a few words. I would at least be able to buy credit if I went to smuggling. Wasn’t it worth crossing the mountains to hear her voice?
We couldn’t cross the mountains, the black cannonballs pierced through our breast. In the age of technology, a young boy was killed while on the way to hear the voice of his beloved…
Do you know that the death also has wings, like the wings of love. However, death was more eager than my darling to hug me…
Neither me nor she will be able to hear the voice of the other again…What is left behind me are several good words to ring in ears, a photograph, dilapidated dreams, a destitute mother and siblings…
This may annoy you but I have several words to say;
I demand justice,
If the bombs that killed me didn’t kill the justice too…
Doesn’t everyone have the right to justice?
Or,
Should I apologize to the state because it has warted those huge, expensive bombs for killing me,
Should I thank the General Staff for not missing the target and for killing me!?
* Platform for Justice for Roboski publishes the life story of 34 people from the villages of Roboski and Gülyazý who were killed by bombs on 28 December, 2011. These stories which will be published for 34 days are also sent to the offices of President, Prime Minister, Ministry of Justice and Interior Ministry via fax and mail.
