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(en) Syria, A Kurdish YPG Woman Fighter in Kobani wrote to her mother by Central Oklahoma Black/Red Alliance (COBRA)

Date Tue, 14 Oct 2014 21:57:57 +0300


"I am fine, Mom. Yesterday we celebrated my 19th birthday. ---- My friend Azad sang a beautiful song about mothers. I remembered you and cried. Azad has a beautiful voice, he cried too when he was singing. He also missed his mother whom he has not seen for a year. ---- Yesterday we helped a wounded friend. He got wounded by 2 bullets. He didn’t know much about the second wound when he was pointing to the first bullet in his chest. He was bleeding from his flank too, we bandaged his wound and I gave him my blood. ---- We are in the east side of Kobani, Mother…A few miles only stand between us and them. We see their black flags, we listen to their radios, sometimes we don’t understand what they say when they speak foreign languages but we can tell they are scared. ---- We are in group of nine fighters. The youngest, Resho from Afrin. He fought in Tal Abyad then joined us. Alan is from Qamishlo, from their best neighborhood, he fought in Sere Kaniye then joined us. He has few scars on his body. He tells us it is for Avin. The oldest is Dersim, he is from the Qandil Mountain, and his wife was martyred in Diyarbekir and left him with 2 kids.

We are in a house on the outskirts of Kobani. We don’t know much about its owners. There are photos of and old man and one of a young man with a black ribbon, seems like he is a martyr…There is a photo of Qazi Mohamad, Mulla Mustafa Barzani, Apo, and an old Ottoman map mentioning the name of Kurdistan.

We have not got coffee for a while, we found out that life is beautiful even without coffee. Honestly, I've never had a coffee as good as yours.

We are here to defend a peaceful city. We never took part in killing anyone, instead we hosted many wounded and refugees from our Syrian brothers. We are defending a Muslim city that have tens of mosques. We are defending it from the barbaric forces.

Mother, I will visit you once these dirty war that was forced on us is over. I will be there with my friend Dersim who will go to Diyarbekir to meet his kids. We all miss home and want to go back to it but this war does not know what missing means. Maybe I won’t come back, Mother. Then, be sure that I dreamed of seeing you for
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