A warrior who joined during the historic Sur resistance, the roads of resistance through her eyes and Martyr Çiyager Hevî.
I do not know how to write about the comrade and do him justice. For this reason, I want to share my moments I have seen, and the free moments I have lived with the Comrade. I’ll start from the very beginning.
It was the first days of the historic Sur resistance. Everywhere the tanks and cannonballs plundered the city, the resistance that did not fit into the hearts was growing day by day. 3 streets were covered with covers for camouflage. While the atmosphere reminded of the resistance of Kobanê, the opposing enemy was Turkish State/ISIS. It makes more sense to say that ISIS is a state of a state. In spite of this, the fighters who came to join the uprisings were sent away with the celebrations of their mothers. Another history of resistance was written in Kurdistan. Who could have stopped them now?
Slogans of mosque speakers were rising against intense technical attacks of the enemy. Where I lived, Comrades were always described as ‘those who are superior to us’. When this was said, I would envision angels.
When I went to the resistance area, I could feel that with every breath I took, I could smell freedom. I was moving fast and excited. And the moment came. When I lifted the first curtain, I saw my comrades in the holy place with guerrilla clothes, hair that had turned ginger from the sun and their eyes swollen with insomnia. My feeling in that moment left its place to tears. I was asking myself what kind of will power this was? At that moment my eyes spotted a friend with a modest look and I am instantly ashamed of my tears. I should have had boosted the morale of the comrades. As these thoughts were passing through my mind, I called “Heval” and gestured the victory sign. The friends started laughing. Every 3-4 steps I took, I met friends who had bombs and AK47s. They were on guard duty.
Despite this war, I was surprised to see that they were so clean, I could see their hearts through their eyes. It was the first time I had felt the revolution. I was going to the streets where the enemy lived, where they were announcing the curfews. Because he is was afraid of the people. And is if this was not enough, the barbarian enemy was using any unethical word that he could think of, words that you would not even want to hear come from your mouth.
For days, all the people were hungry and thirsty. Bullets and tear gas were even thrown at the children on the streets. The public couldn’t even open the balcony door to get air. Even the most basic needs in homes were deplete. Despite all this, we were happy. Of course, the enemy who saw this was going crazy. This level of morale from the people who were being attacked by air and land. And despite these attacks, the enemy could not enter the streets of resistance.
Despite the enemy thinking there were thousands of us on the streets where resistance was being made, in reality there were only ten of us. Only ten friends on the street, and all of the techniques of the enemy was not enough to defeat us. Pathetic!
What could have stopped these militants and people walking in the line of Apo? At the time there was a sound-making action. I remember all the spoons in the house were crooked. The other friends were supporting our action with slogans and songs. Which power could stand against this will and commitment? This war was the war of the people. The Revolutionary People’s War.
Streets were decorated with the smell of revolution. I had to take part in such a historical process with friends, I wanted to take revenge. I wanted to take revenge because he was slaughtering even the faint-minded little children. I wanted to run to freedom. We escaped school together with another female friend and took the road to freedom. We were surrounded by enemies, and we were going to take revenge, looking them in their eyes. We finally reached where we wanted.
Of course, the trench was dug to prevent the enemy vehicle from crossing 3-4 km beyond the curtain. (I heard later that a friend was working from morning until morning to dig this ditch). Three friends sat on a brown couch left on the narrow street. I told Heval Adar that I wanted to talk to her. And after a little progress, I asked Heval Adar, “Can I hug you?” Of course, she responded and hugged me tightly.
Heval Adar has green eyes, medium height, light skinned and dimpled. She is a very hard-working friend. It was her fifth year in the struggle for freedom. After the first discussion, friends took us to a different place. I had a green jacket on me and a braid in my hair. Friends put us in a safe place, we were put in a room. Then I was excited about the idea that I was going to the mountains. I couldn’t hide my excitement. At the time, I was very impressed by the fact that the friends were very tired and still very concerned about us.
Heval Arjin, a long, dark-haired, dimpled friend, came in. Seeing us, she shouted “Long live the womans power, long live the YJA-Star power!” She squeezed all of us with affection. These words were the best words I have ever heard. It was the first time I had heard a woman talk about the power of women.
Heval Arjin was a Karnas person. Her navy-blue pants, her soldier vest, her long black hair, and her scarf around her hair, called for a revolution. Because she was so happy that the enemy was buried in Kurdistan, the fire of her vengeance was getting richer. The militia came in the end, we were waiting for them. We said goodbye to friends and set off for the mountain. Of course, we were on our toes until we went to the car because we were paranoid that everyone was looking at us because we were revolutionary.
We climbed into the grey car and set out to the free place. We were looking over the mountains accompanied by the rebellious wind. We got to a village at about six o’clock. We were waiting for friends to come and get us. Of course, with our luck it started to rain. As the roads became slippery, cars could not go so easily. We waited in a family’s house until 11:30. There were two young women in the house. The house was a modest village house, at the far end of the village. She showed us pictures of two young women friends. She read us a story that belonged to some friends.
She read the writings of a friend who had newly joined was telling their memories about a march. They said:
“We were walking without taking a break, incessantly. After walking for a long time, I was very tired and I thought I could not walk at that moment and then a friend came to me and gave me walnut leaves and water. When I asked what this was, the friend said I should smell the leaves of the walnut and I should smell it deep in my heart. Again, I asked why. She answered, because whenever we start to walk every walnut shell is definitely next to us to prevent fatigue. I smelt the leaf, deep in my heart and set off. After reaching the point we were walking to, the friend who gave me the walnut leaf came up to me and laughing, she said: Actually, what I told you about the walnut leaf, I made it up myself, but it did work, didn’t it? And he left me. In that moment I knew these friends have a great faith in them.”
After reading that magazine, the journey started for us.
The father who was leading us pointed to the mountains on our way and told me that Heval Adar had reached to Farasin from Lice in 5 hours. Our friends, Heval Bawer and Heval Amed asked questions until we arrived to the point. As for me, every time I was tired, I sniffed leaves of the trees.
At last, we had reached our final point of the trip and were told the rules we had to follow, they were all explained. Then we went to sleep in the manga. In the morning, the smell of rain falling on the ground was spread around.
Actually, this was the first gift to us from the free mountains. We went to breakfast and the fire was lit, we put the teapot we call ‘Reşo’ on the fire. There was a blue barrel in the corner that had been filled by the rain. This was the water that we were using. The tea that was made with rain water was the best tea I’ve had. We set off at 4.30 and went next to another group.
I was going to see Heval Çiyager, the commander of Sur, at the place where I went. We reached our next point and greeted the friends one by one. The region of Lice was quite forested area. Friends brought tea and Pelur dessert. I said to myself, “how is there Pelur dessert on the mountains?”. Then, Heval Çiyager asked me to taste it, and when I tasted it, it was delicious. This dessert was made from flour, milk and pekmez. I was sitting with the friend who had joined with me, watching the Lice mountains, when Heval Çiyager was coming towards us with lunch. There was bulgur and chicken for lunch. Of course, I was amazed again. Heval Çiyager read my surprised face expression and said “Why are you surprised, the best food, the best desserts and the best friends happen with the Guerrilla?” At that time, Heval Çiyager was excitedly asking questions to get to know us. He was talking about leadership.
Heval Çiyager had brown hair, blue eyes and was from Batman. He always had a scarf around his head and a grey raincoat on. I was beginning to get to know the truth. As Khidr said, “The truth of everything is revealed through its actions”. I have seen this in Heval Çiyager.
Heval Çiyager was a modest, cheerful person. With his belief and love towards his comrades, he always dignified those who he spoke to. Then he took the dishes and didn’t arrive for a few hours. We sat quietly until Heval Çiyager arrived. Heval Çiyager is coming towards us and he is pulling his ears to make us laugh. When I saw him like that, i asked myself why he was doing this for people. Of course, I would later understand that his supreme heart was doing everything he could to make his comrade laugh.
It was his most precious time, to be with his comrades on these mountains. It wasnt hard to understand this. After I came to him, I asked him, “Did you know the Martyr Mervan?” “He was martyred by my side” he began to tell. When he asked how I knew Martyr Marwan, I started to tell our childhood memories. He said, “You will raise your weapon in anger. You will avenge Martyr Marwan!” Then he asked me what my name was going to be and told him I didn’t know, i hadnt thought about it. He said my name should be Rebellion.
Then in terms of security, we went to a village with Heval Doktar and stayed with him for ten days. When Heval Çiyager and Heval Arjin came to visit, I held Heval Çiyager firmly. We started chatting. I just wanted to listen to them. Because he was with us in a very sincere manner, that was the best companionship.
This was the last time i saw Heval Çiyager. Then we went to Kandil for education. When we were in training, the Sur resistance began. Heval Çiyager was born in Sur; When the resistance diary came to the training, I learned that he was martyred. The command of Heval Çiyager was energetic in life. I saw the beauty of the guerrilla in him, and i will always be its follower. I’m not going to forget what you look like. Your memories will remain in my heart, as fresh as if it just happened.
Regardless, we will reach the magnificent end. We will plant our flag to Amed’s Sur region. No matter what, the end will be magnificent!
-Isyan Omedya
