One April morning, we opened our eyes to a new day with the sound of birds. Our journey towards Çarçella was about to begin.
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Comrade Ferzende suffered a heart attack in Heftenîn in 2017. The comrades could not find an opportunity to take him to our doctors, and as a result he fell a martyr.
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May, the month of roses and daffodils, daisies and basil. Raise your head, push the tyrants' boots off your beauty, strike against the occupiers' heart of stone and grow green!
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If history is lost, what can truly define truth? One can say that history is a willed existence that can be defined. My country, the cry of freedom rises again on the horizons of your mountains.
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Like the nightingales of the gardens, they remain lovestruck and enchanted when they utter your name. Like moths, they grow restless when they breathe in the scent of your hair.
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As we develop women’s participation, their struggle for freedom and their definition of a free identity within the reality of our party, what level is being achieved in practice?
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Writing takes heart. Loving the guerrilla demands a price; touching it demands a rebellious life on the peaks. It demands walking above the valleys left beneath the wings of hawks flying over the same mountain, at its highest summits.
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Morning had come, and the warnings given the previous evening had been followed to the letter until sunrise. Our entire day had passed making places for the squads. It was March 10, 1997.
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