#direnankara

Önümdeki anlamsız onca zamana bakarken, gelecekte neler yapacağımı düşünürken bir çığlık duydum önümde. Arkasından bir tane daha, bir tane daha, bir tane daha... Bir çığlıklar zinciri şeklinde bana doğru yaklaşan bir acı dalgasını hissettim. O çığlıkların hiçbiri atılmamıştı. Ben de ağzımı herkesinki gibi bir ritüele bağlı kalarak açacağım sanıyordum.

Sadece çevremin sıcaklık be enerji ile sarıldığını hissettim. Mili saniyenin 1/10000′i boyunca, belki daha kısa, belki daha da kısa, kendimi çok güçlü hissettim. 

Ateşler arasındaydım ben de. Çığlık atan diğer insanlardan bir farkım kalmamış.

There was a bomb threat when I used to live in Ankara. Before the dangerous days of Erdoğan these events were rare and not seemingly part of something large, sinister and obvious the way it is now. My house, perched on the edge of a valley, overlooked the entire city and I sat glued to the window in terror imagining a blast of fire and debris shooting up from downtown. I wrote a poem called 36 kilos, which was the amount of explosives found. The terror came, then subsided. On that day, the streets remained the same.

But the streets haven’t been the same for a while now. During the Gezi protests I stayed on Twitter and Facebook for hours on end, passing messages back and forth with the comfort of knowing I couldn’t be arrested from the safety of Ireland. I was sent an article with a photo of the street where I used to live shrouded in tear gas. Turkey was a home, and piece by piece it was cracking and disintegrating. What street was this? Not mine, not mine anymore.

Since then blood has broken on the grey concrete slabs of Turkish pavements, drop by drop but yesterday it flowed, it spilt on the dusty autumn ground. It made the air rank with death while tear gas filled the lungs of survivors, more insult to horrific injury. As of today 96 have died in the two Ankara bomb blasts during a peaceful rally. According to reports they were holding hands and dancing and singing when shrapnel tore through hopeful, optimistic flesh. 

The government blocked social media and threatened news outlets, attempting to stop the spread of news about the bombings. A bloodied fist trying to wipe away the bodies, no, nothing to see here. No use crying over spilt blood. Friends of friends of friends lie under peace flags, growing colder than the ground they’re on, three degrees of separation but that’s already too close for comfort. 

So what now? What can my friends do when their lives are in serious danger if they go to a protest? The message was clear: give up, stop, or more death will come. But giving up is not an option. So what can they do without risking their lives?

Keep talking. Keep sharing. In the safest way possible, keep fighting. And on November 1st you can show them that you are not scared, because no matter what they do ballots will always be stronger than bombs. 

And from here, I’ll keep writing so I can fight the squirm of burning hot helplessness in my gut. My feet are not marching on Turkish streets, and my vote will not be on a ballot on the day it matters. I am not Turkish and never will be, but it was a home that welcomed me and loved me back. It was a home that gave me a family and an identity that will last a lifetime. It is a home that I am losing, and as it falls away I try my best to keep it tied to me with words.

I will write, because it’s all I can do. 

Yaşamınız boyunca ninniler, türküler, masallar,ağıtlar, kulağınızdan eksilmeyen öğütler duyduğunuz o ses, bugün Ankara Güven Park'ta (ve aslında yurdun dört bir yanında) daha gür yükseldi:

HAYIR!

"kadına yönelik şiddete HAYIR

heteroseksizme HAYIR"

Kadın olmak öyle zor ki hayır denecek kimselerin ve olguların ardı arkası kesilmiyor. Bu durum Güven Park'ta 14.00'te yapılan eylemde harika bir ironiyle karşımıza çıkıyor:

"Cinsiyetçi cumhurbaşkanına HAYIR

HAYIR!

Cinsiyetçi başbakana HAYIR

HAYIR!

Cinsiyetçi hiç kimseye HAYIR "

Gülüşmeler...

Tanıdığınız gülüşler.

Kadın sesi en çok hayır diye haykırırken güzel.

Her kadın içinde devrimin ta kendisini taşır.

Renklerinizden, kıyafetlerinizden, hayallerinizden vazgeçmeyiniz. HAYIR!

Susmayınız, sessiz kalmayınız. HAYIR!

Katlanmayınız korkmayınız. HAYIR!

Direniniz, haykırınız. HAYIR!

Yaşamımız, düşüncelerimiz, bedenimiz bizimdir.