Yes, I say a wish, because I had always wanted to cross into the field of war. At that time too, I was always proposing that I go to the mountains. But this wish of mine was not accepted then.
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Garisa is the witness to the story of armed struggle. The mother of all events and experiences. Beside every high hill, or behind every tree, there is an event that has not been known, heard, or interpreted.
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In 1998, we were a group of thirteen women undertaking intensive study at the Leadership’s home. Every day followed the Leader’s program.
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Comrade Azad Eruh joined our ranks in 2009 together with a friend. He was in the Gabar area. He was only seventeen years old.
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What is a lifetime? For the narrator, an interpretation as simple as beginning or ending! But what value can this account have for the person who lived it?
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Was the fear of hoping the first fire of your life—the drop that began the storm after a storm? Is this fire your share of that singular storm which left behind everything about ruin and life? And there is an endless longing for the sea.
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