NEWS CENTER – As an internationalist in the Rojava revolution I get to work close to the people. I get to know lot of them and to hear lot of stories. During my whole life I have been influenced by the curse of History. As a South-American my identity as been distorted by the event of the 70s, by the print of the colonization, by the fascism of Neo-liberal politics etc. I have lived myself through painful events that are hard to describe and to make understand to someone who have always leaved far away from History storms. Here in the heart of Middle-East I had to experience some events myself but mostly to testify stories of others. History is made by individuals and History make individuals. Truth have to be told, truth have to be heard. In this revolution we all have a role to play. Our inaction, our passivity, our blindness is a crime. Right now my role is to be the messenger of this truth, to share with you what I see and what I hear. Those are the prints of the war in Rojava this is the reality.
“Hanif”
My name is Hanif I am 20 years old. I am Kurdish and I have always lived in a small village in Syria near the city of Kobane. A few years ago my family and I had to flee our village, because of the Islamic State gangs. My mother, my two little sisters, my little brother and I left in a hurry when we heard that the neighbouring village was being looted by Daesh My father stayed behind and was to join us later with a neighbour with the few things we had. At that time I was still too young to face the war, I didn’t understand what it meant and the influence that war can have on people’s lives. My father never joined us, he was captured by Daesh and then he disappeared just like our neighbour. I think they killed him and then buried him in a mass grave as they have done dozens of times with hundreds of us. This happened at the very beginning of the battle for Kobane in 2014. A few months later when Kobane was liberated by the hevals we went back home. Luckily our village escaped the fighting and our house was still standing even though it had been looted from top to bottom. We had to rebuild the whole electrical system and fill some holes. Thanks to the resistance, thanks to the martyrs, thanks to the self-defense forces, but especially thanks to Serok Apo who taught us to resist, to organize and to live with our heads held high, my mother was able to get her house back. We had the courage and luck to escape the fate of refugees that thousands of Syrians are going through right now.
When our house was ready I wanted to join the YPG to protect our land. I was too young at that time. The hevals did not accept me. Some months later I went back and told them about my father’s story and my determination to join our self-defense forces. This time, at my insistence (I can be a milestone anytime I want) the hevals were willing to take me under their wings and give me a job, but it was out of the question for me to go to the front.
Then when I was finally old enough, I quickly applied to join the YAT, the unit specialized in intervention against Daesh terrorists. I participated in several operations where we arrested or eliminated hundreds of their gang cells. I am proud to belong to this elite unit, it is for me the best revenge I could take on the terrorists. But in my family I am not the only one. My mother is part of the self-administration structure and my sister is part of the young women’s movement.
A few months ago my little brother, who was bubbling with the same need to defend our land, decided to join the PKK. His choice is much more radical than mine even if it doesn’t necessarily mean that he will go to fight. He was more courageous than me. He left everything even his home and family to give his whole life to the revolution. Even if I miss him I am very proud of him. And thanks to his commitment today everyone knows my family and greets us in the street. It is a big proud for us.
“Dicle”
My father was killed in front of my eyes during the massacre in Kobane committed by Daesh terrorists. They infiltrated the city using YPG uniforms and massacred several hundred civilians. They broke down the door of my house and shot my father in the head, and then placed a grenade under his clothes to destroy his body. Fortunately my father sensed that something was wrong. Before they broke down the door he had time to hide me behind some blankets in the bedroom. Since that day I promised myself to do everything in my power to defend the peace of my people. Today and for several years I have been an activist of the revolutionary youth. I have found a new breath, a way to transform my grief and hatred into something positive. Today I have responsibilities and I am active in the movement.
Thanks to PKK cadres I was convinced to give meaning to my life rather than to resign my pain. One of them became a very close friend, a kind of big sister, a confidante. She fell as a martyr, during a drone attack. We were in political training, a week of classes and discussions to better understand the meaning of the revolution we are working hard to make happen. It was my turn to cook for all the classmates of the academy. Shehid Viyan and some of my comrades were siting in the garden drinking tea while waiting. A Turkish drone dropped a several thousand dollars rocket loaded with explosives and metal balls. The windows exploded, I get afraid like never before. When I went to look in the garden I did not recognize the bodies of my comrades, I could not believe it was them. As the day my father was murdered there was nothing left.
Once again I promised myself that I would never abandon our cause, never abandon the humanity that is in me. Today I am taking care of my mother who is sick. When she will be gone, I will also join the PKK.
“Cihan”
My name is Cihan I am 12 years old and I live in Kobane with my family. We are what the movement calls welatparez (NdT: defenders of the land). We have been close to the party for many generations. My grandparents met Abdullah Ocalan and went to see him several times in Lebanon or here in Syria. My father worked in the training camps in the Bekaa with the guerrillas who were training. Two of my uncles were martyred during the war against Daesh here in Syria. My aunt was martyred in the mountains with the guerilla. My aunt and uncles are the pride of our family, they are real heroes and I admire them. One day I will join the party too, I have already told my family. Of course my parents think that I will change my mind and they try to make the hevals believe that I am too young so that I can stay longer with them. But my choice has been made for years. I know that one day I will go to the mountains and I too will be a PKK revolutionary. I will walk on the steps of my aunt it is the promises I did to her and to my people.
“Fatma”
My name is Fatma, I am the mother of 10 children and live in Kobane. My family was not close to the Apocis. My father always preferred Barzani and the peshmerga to Reber Apo’s guerilla. Anyway, when the Islamist wave threatened the city in 2014, we left like all the people of Kobane. We left for Turkey where we thought we would be welcomed and helped. Instead we were persecuted by the authorities as if we were the terrorists. As soon as we were able to return home, we crossed the border again. Our house and the whole neighbourhood had been razed by bombs. We rebuilt. While we were rebuilding our home my daughter (the oldest of my children) stayed in Bakur (Northern Kurdistan) to work and send us money for the house. She was arrested by the Turkish police. Today she has been imprisoned for 5 years waiting for her trial. No charges, no court, they just threw her in jail accusing her of being a member of the PKK. They even cheated us out of our few savings by promising us a trial if we gave them money. Today my husband and I are struggling to provide for our children. Fortunately I have a son who joined the YPG and he helps us with his pay. He says he doesn’t need the money because he doesn’t plan to leave the Self Defense Forces until the war is over.
“Abet”
My name is Abet and I am a father of three children. I am originally from Afrin but now I live in Kobane with my family. I have always lived in Afrin but when the Turkish forces invaded the region and the Daesh elders turned into mercenaries for the Turkish state we had to leave our land. My wife and children went to live in a refugee camp for a while. I stayed to fight and resist the Ottoman invader and his jihadist henchmen.
Many of my childhood friends and other comrades from all over died before my eyes. We buried with our own hands between the roots of my ancestors’ olive trees. After the air raids and our retreat that continues to burn my heart every day of my life the occupation began. I joined my family and we moved to a village near the city of Kobane. The occupiers dig up my comrades bodies, and they accused us of mass murder, saying that those bodies were killes by us.
Today I work for the village municipality and my wife is a member of the regional council. I am also a member of the civil self-defense forces. Even though I am not a military man anymore, if the war comes to us again I am ready to fight once more. For the future of my children, for the memory of my comrades, for the land of my parents, I am ready to give my life and everything I have. This time I will not make a step backward.
“Alime”
My name is Alime. I am the mother of 3 children. My sister was a guerrilla cadre and she fell as a martyr in the mountains during clashes with the Turkish military. My brother was a YPG fighter, but he was martyred during the massacre of Kobane when Daesh gangs infiltrated the city to massacre civilians, it was during one of his weeks of leave. He came back from the front to see us on that day…Today I am in charge of the popular defense forces in my town. We are civilians who take in hands the defense of our houses and our districts. I know how to handle a weapon and command a small group of fighters. But I am not a military person. Just a mother who cares about the security of her family and neighbours. Today I train young and old in defense, but I also give classes to make people understand why it is necessary for us as civilians to do our part in this war. Because in this war civilians are the first victims, the weapon of the enemy do not make any difference between civilians and soldiers.
