A true story, told in the words of Shireen Hama

This guy was Kurdish from Turkey with a Turkish passport. He was killed because he spoke Kurdish. It happened to many other people too.  He is like a symbol of what happens with the Kurds. He is not Syrian (like me) but I just wanted to use my words to speak on behalf of the Kurds in my country and his.

My Kurdish nationality was determined before I was born, I grew up in a simple and beautiful city, learning a language other than my own. With a nationality that is not my nationality. An entire Syrian war broke out because they wanted to choose to live fairly.

I became a refugee in Turkey… that country that hates hearing a Kurdish word.

I endured humiliation, insult, poverty, fear, hunger, asylum, and worked to survive.

What should I do?  Do I go back to war?  Is it better to choose death?

Do I have the right to choose a beautiful and quiet life?

Do I have the right to hear and speak my language?

A few minutes before I was killed by Turks, I decided to leave this world with my favourite Kurdish song.  I wanted to enjoy my day, did I commit a crime?

And what happened next is that the ears of people who grew up with greed in their hearts endured hatred and did not allow me to listen. 

They killed me because I am a Kurd … listening to my favorite Kurdish song!

I was killed like any homeless dog …

I was killed like any annoying insect …

My name is now the martyr of the Kurdish song!  Kurdish song lover.

A lover of eternal language… a lover of eternal nationality.

I will not die just by being killed, I live in every Kurdish heart and every human heart knows what humanity is.

Goodbye in the sky … 

I am going to meet my friend George, tell him that I am sorry about what happened to him, I know how painful and hard it is. I want to thank him for the human awareness of the ugliness of life.

“I know he has seen what happened to me.”

I am going to tell him that I am now fine…I finally got off the planet Earth.

To enjoy the calm and purity of the sky.

Sorry, my great people… that you do not have the ability to take out your pains and cry out. I see your tears and hear your cry…

Tell my Mother and Father that I am fine now… and I am sorry to leave them without a final hug.

I was killed like any annoying insect …

My name is now the martyr of the Kurdish song!  Kurdish song lover.

A lover of eternal language… a lover of eternal nationality.

“I just wanted to say before my death… I am a Kurd and I deserve to live in peace.”