چیرۆکی کوردێکی باکوور All my dreams were to someday complete my education, but this hope never became a reality. This is because my family's livelihood depends on raising livestock and dairy products such as yogurt, milk, and cheese. From the very beginning, I've been brought to the shepherding profession on Mount Qarazdagh, and I continue with it to this day...
I sell ice, which I've been doing for nearly 35 years. In the past, because not every home had a refrigerator, people were forced to buy ice to keep their drinking water cool during the summer. I've been involved with ice-making since that time. This desire grew with me, and because of this, I decided to sell ice. In 1990, we bought an ice-making machine and began producing ice. But because we were new to our profession, we had neither knowledge nor experience in selling ice. We would put the ice in containers and walk around the streets selling it. In the beginning, we could only do this much, but over time, we gathered experience in the business, and now I make ice every day. In the summer months, our work increases because the demand for ice is greater. I make ice in square and round shapes, then ride my motorcycle to my customers' doors and deliver it to them. Ice is something special to me, not just a cooling factor. Because of my love and dedication to my work, those who know me well call me 'Father of Ice.' I'm happy with my work - we now have our own brand in the ice business and have become so established in our profession that we can say we've become the best ice producer in Amed. ...
Story of a Kurd from Northern Kurdistan For many years, I had been far from my homeland and lived in Istanbul. I always had a deep longing in my heart, and my mind was with my birthplace. So five years ago, I made a final decision and returned to Amed. Since childhood, I had a passion for photography, so shortly after moving back home, I thought about establishing a studio specialized in capturing iris photography. As the first person in this field, I opened the first studio in my city. Photography is a very unique profession, especially the style I work with - capturing images of the iris. The iris contains all the details of the eyes. Previously, I thought eyes only had primary colors, but through iris photography, I realized that each eye contains dozens of different and fascinating colors. The eye is like a fingerprint, and the lines in each person's eye are different from another person's. The people of Amed have a great appreciation for iris art and visit me to have their photos taken. They frame these images in decorated circles and frames, or give them as gifts to their loved ones. In my opinion, this is a very enjoyable and meaningful gift. There are even people who ask to photograph the eyes of their cats and dogs, because the details in animal eyes are more fascinating than in human eyes. ...
It had been my dream for many years to establish a sewing workshop, but I kept postponing the idea out of fear that I wouldn't be able to make this dream a reality. Later, when my daughter grew a bit older and went to school, the time finally came to work on my dream, and I established my own sewing workshop. My name is Mona. My mother's family is Arab, and my father's is Kurdish. My father's relatives called me Muna, which stayed that way, so I named my workshop Muna and said: "Whatever happens, let it happen!" Because it's never too late to make our dreams come true, and we don't know what life will bring us! If you also have any dreams, try to achieve them because the moment you reach your dream is a very special feeling that cannot be described. ...
Seven years ago, we started this initiative with two female colleagues. Initially, we produced eight types of fruit jams and later expanded into making tomato sauce. At first, we sourced tomatoes from the market but soon decided to grow our own. We acquired 50 hectares of land and began cultivating tomatoes to achieve this. Afterward, we diversified into producing tomato paste and drying some harvests. Our products were then exported to Turkey and European markets. What started as a small project seven years ago has now grown to encompass 30,000 hectares. Currently, we collaborate with 12 women's teams, each comprising 35 women. Many of these women, who previously worked as transhumants and commuted to large cities in Turkey, are now cultivating and harvesting crops on their own land. ...
My name is Jum'a, and I am 62 years old. I have witnessed many events in this city over the years, including my time working at an ancient bathhouse where I cleaned for four years. In the past, people frequently visited the bathhouse, but due to its age—over 500 years old—much of the structure has collapsed. For the past eight years, I have been transforming it into a tea house. Thanks to its rich history, it now attracts many tourists daily. We offer guests traditional Kurdish music and tea, preserving and sharing our heritage. Truly, we are "eating the bread of our history." ...
“I am an agricultural worker. I go to Eden every year when agriculture starts. I work for a daily wage. Working conditions are challenging. I worked for years in these difficult times and bought a house for myself. The house was everything I had. It suffered significant damage in the earthquake. It will ruin my situation because it is a big loss. We have nowhere to go now. My brother, our child, and I stayed outside. We asked the official institutions for tents, but they refused. We stayed outside for three days. Then I went to the market, bought materials, and made the tent. There are 12 of us remaining here now. It’s very cold in the evenings; we turn on the oil heater. We lost not only our home but also our memories. We have nothing now.” ...
“Everything is changing in the world. This change also changes people's lives. One reason for this change is the development of technology. The development of technology makes people's lives a little easier. But this change, like many things in the village, happens late. This is not really a problem. The main problem is not the arrival of technology but the late arrival of some basic needs of human life. One of those needs is water. There has been a water problem in our village for 50 years. There still needs to be a way to lay pipes and bring water to the houses. We still carry our drinking water on donkeys and bring it home. For us, water is more important than technology. But like everything, water comes late.” ...
“Nature is the cure for everything. Leaving the land is like leaving your humanity. I am over 70 years old. Especially young people like to live in cities. But we old people don't leave our village and land even for a day. We were born here; we grew up here. All our memories are here. It is not easy to let go of all memories. I can't live in an apartment. My children live in the city, and I live in the village. Sometimes when I go to town, you think I'm suffocating. I'm out of breath. Immediately, I return to my village, back to my stone house. I just breathe here, and I feel like I live here. In my opinion, urban life is a silent death.” ...
“I lost two grandchildren, one was 3 years old, and the other was 7 years old. I lost my son and daughter-in-law. They were all under the ruins. They retrieved the bodies of my grandchildren and daughter-in-law, but my son hasn't been taken out for days. I tell the man, 'go look,' he tells me, 'there is no smell' couldn’t he be alive if there is no smell? Why don't you bring them out? Are you going to let them die? They are working on the rubbles on the road but haven't touched them yet. When I came here, I threw myself in front of the camp. My son is 22 years old. I can't make my voice heard.” ...
"Our house was destroyed in the earthquake. I lost four relatives, and eight of my neighbors are still left under the ruins. Everyone is gone, and I have no one left. It gets really cold, so I make a fire here and warm myself. I don't know what else to do. God bless those who are bringing help, but what should I do? There are poorer families than us." ...
"I guess there is nothing worse in life than being thirsty. When I was a child, there was no water in the village, and when I reached the age of 60, there was no water again. The village has 150 houses and 40,000 animals, but there is no water. Regarding the animals, we have to bring water to them here, and we use the donkey to bring water to the house. The water from the well also harms health, but we have no other options. If it doesn't rain, we will be without water. This year is very dry, and this drought will be a big problem for us in the summer months. If this continues, there will be no life in the villages, and all the villagers will be displaced. Maybe we will become thirsty, and perhaps we will die longing for a drop of water." ...