February 6, 2021
“I was 21 years old when the Anfal started in 1988. I will never forget how my 5 brothers and 3 nephews and nieces were killed in front of my eyes, then took us all to the Duz prison then Tkreet. Only God knows what I suffered away from my mother and family in those prisons for 6 months and 12 days. I was scared and missed my mom so much, I almost lost my mind. I tattooed my mom’s name on my hand out of my miseries and loneliness. Not long after we were freed and returned to Chamchamal, my father passed away. Our wound from losing him hadn’t healed, when martyrdom of my Peshmarga brother was added too. The only person remaining I was attached to was my mother, who also passed away 5 years ago. We went through Anfal and we were punished for being Kurds, but who remembers us now? I don’t even have a political prisoner’s ID yet”.