CENTRAL NEWS
We are living through the era of absent consciences and faded humanity. Which religion, culture or book writes that the Kurd lives? Which history book writes about the silence of a Kurdistan which has witnessed such great resistances?!
Think of an enemy that burns, rapes, and dissects even lifeless Kurdish bodies. And think that this enemy sends your childs corpse to your home in a cargo box!
Are we going to call this enemy, who has reached the highest level in lowness, an enemy? Are they even human! Or do you think that the Kurdish people, the Kurdish youth who remain silent will not be asked: ‘in which blind hole you have buried your humanity’?
What is this silence when our enemy is so ugly!
This was never about the ways we died. And the words of Martyr Armanç comes to mind:
“We accept to die, and we accept that our corpses are shredded to pieces, and that our dead bodies are deprived of the last prayer of our parents, or of a piece of stone sewn to the land;
We accept the bombs planted in the bright and lightful worlds of Zilan, Silan, Rojhat and our Mizgins who placed us on the mountains of love.
We accept even brutality! But we never accept to be defeated, never to bow dishonesty, never to be tongueless and nameless, never to live apart from the Sun!
It’s time you understand!”
Nobody dreamed of dying beautifully on this road which was set on to revive the Kurdish people, nobody expected to live a beautiful life. And you, are you the imbecile who vows to break this will, are you the fool that stepped forward to break these beautiful hearts in all your despicableness!
Which heart can do this to a mother, how can a heart order that a mother is sent the bones of her child through the post. Just think for half a second. I’m asking you, the state-loving fools, which person deserves this! Which mother is stopped from attending her son’s funeral!
And the Kurdish youth; What are you still waiting for! What is it, what makes you so afraid that it stops you?! Is it the fear of dying, or the fear of falling apart? If so, neither are you alive, nor are you whole.
Is it your slave-like life that you get up to every morning which keeps you alive! Or is it because you are afraid to hurt your mother?
Was Martyr Kemal’s mother heartless, numb or painless? Stop and think for a moment about who loves their mothers more. Is it the brave children who run the lengths of these mountains every day to stop that village and that garden from being ocucpied by the enemy… or is it you in all your selfishness?
What are you so in love with that you are able to continue to dedicate yourselves to the enemy? Why are you so distant from anger, what dreams do you dive into while the enemy is burning alive your elemenary-school friends?
Do you think that you will wake up one day and the revolution will be made while you were too afraid of a bullet to leave your warm bed?
And we will make this revolution, with or without you, but how will you be saved? How will you lift the shame on your shoulders when you walk through forests of graves, graves of the beautiful saplings who fell while you were distracted studying for exams to become good cadres for the enemy? And some of you even complain about how long it has taken, who are you? When will you decide.
The enemy does not act with so much fear. He speaks his language every day. Every day, the beautiful people who set out on this journey for you, fall for this land. And it does not end. They are burned, their corpses are dissected and left to rot in a morgue. They are piled into a plastic box and posted to the arms of their mothers.
Did the enemy stop and doubt for a minute, did they think about how they would die while fighting? What makes you think so much! Isn’t the road clear? Isn’t it time for action, now? Close the PTT buildings on the streets of Kurdistan where the enemy is walking so confidently, take your head out of wherever you have buried it, how many more mothers have to recieve the bones of their children in a box to revive your dead conscience.
Are we that desperate now, are we this weak? Are you going to find yourselves in the schools you study in, or the cafes you exhibit yourselves in? You are being torn apart piece by piece every day, what language will you speak?
And when you look at the eyes of your mother, how will you live with the guilt of knowing that the mothers of Kurdistan will never look as warmly as yours?
If you are looking for us, we will be avenging our comrades, our mothers, our babies. Our mind is revenge, our soul is revenge, our heart is revenge. May the rest find a way to ‘live’ with themselves.
NC// Faraşîn Sîdar
