Agos’ archive: an unusual day in Roboski

FUNDA TOSUN
LORA BAYTAR

People of Uludere ask with the grief of losing their sons: “Now that my son passed away, his younger brother will do the same job. If he dies, then his younger brother would do it. We either leave this country, or continue to do this, because there is no factory or animal here. What else can we do?”

On December 28, 2011, around 16.30, everything was seemingly normal, when 38 people from Bujeh and Roboski villages of Şırnak hit the road with their 60 mules. They were engaged in border trade, just like their fathers and grandfathers. There was nothing unusual. “Our fathers and grandfathers made their living in the same way; we make our living with smuggling too. This is our job. We normally use the same route. The soldiers can see that route without even using binoculars.” As they say, everybody, from soldiers to prosecutors and governors, knew that villagers are engaged in this “normal” job.

That day, the villagers hit the road with groups consisting of 5-6 people and they were feeling relaxed more than ever, since there hadn’t been any control for a month. A night before, a convoy with 200 mules went to Iraq and brought diesel oil from there without any trouble. They were putting 2 bins on each mule and they were gaining 50 liras from each bin. Usually, the convoys were consisting of 150-200 people, but that day, they were fewer, because most of the young men stayed in the village for a football game on the new carpet field that they had built in the village. That day, 35 young men between the ages of 12 and 25 were killed by the bombs of Turkish army, while majority of their friends were in the village for a football game...

“Herons were above us”

The convoy hit the road and about half an hour later, people in the village heard the sound of Herons, a type of drone. However, this sound was a common occurrence for them, because 2-3 days a week, Herons were flying for an operation or scout. After a while, two military vehicles called “scorpion” passed through the village and headed to the border. And that was not “usual”, because the soldiers would lay ambushes along those roads, if they want to catch the smugglers. So, it wasn’t normal for them to pass through the village so blatantly. There were 4 roads that lead to the border from the village and they became one as one gets nearer to the border. The villagers say that the soldiers rarely control all 4 roads at the same time. “Usually, they control 2 roads and we use the other roads. So, they control 2 roads perfunctorily and let us do our business.” It was certain that there was something “unusual” going on that day…

Under normal circumstances, it takes 6 hours to go and come back; when the convoy arrived at the border, which is 3 kilometers away from the village, it was around 19.00 o’clock. The people who live across the border are the relatives of the smugglers. In 1992, their village was torched and they were deported. Some of them were settled in Roboski and some of them went to Mahmur camp in Iraq. And the border trade called smuggling is an exchange between those relatives. “The people across the border are our relative; they are our cousins. There are intermarriages. We hit the road simultaneously and meet each other. They fill diesel oil in our bins. Sometimes they give sugar or cigarettes, whatever we need at the moment. We briefly chat and depart.”

“Leave the mules and take refuge in the state”

That day, they met with their relatives in Iraq, took 130 liters oil for each mule and headed to the border. When they arrived at the border, the villagers called and informed that the soldiers are waiting on the road and advised them to stay at the border. Usually, after few hours, the soldiers open the road and the villagers cross the border. However, this was not what happened on that day. While 38 villagers were waiting at the border, the sound of the howitzers was started to be heard. 17-years-old Yüksel Ürek, who was about to die, called his mother and said that the soldiers are firing howitzers. His mother said, “Leave the mules and take refuge in the state!” This phone call took place at 21.29 and the warplanes started bombing at 21.30.

“Help! They killed us!”

Surviving the first bombardment that killed 25 people from his family, 31-years-old Servet Encü tells those moments: “We were at the border. I was at the foremost part of the group. First, I heard the sound of cannonballs. Then, the sound of Herons got closer. I saw arms and legs flying around. I threw myself to the snow. For a while, the sounds stooped. Then, I heard the bombs. I waited for an hour lying there like a dead body.” Though the bombing stopped after a while, there were warplanes. “For at least half an hour more, the jets flied above us. Then they stopped. I waited a bit more, and then stood up. I called the people in the village and told them: ‘Help! They killed us…”

After the first bombardment, another one started. This time, the target was a group mostly consisting of children. 19-years-old Hacı Encü survived this bombardment: “First, they threw an aircraft flare and then fired howitzers. We left our belongings on the other side of the border. Right after that, the planes came and started bombing. There were 2 groups with 300-400 meters between them. About 20 people, who were right at the border, were killed by the first bombardment. We immediately started to run back. Bombs were dropped over the people among the rocks. I was with 6 people; 3 people from that group survived. After about an hour, we soaked in a river with 3 mules. We waited there for another hour and then hid under a rock. We weren’t able to get in touch with our friends. Around 23.00 o’clock, we heard voices. The villagers were coming with flashlights.

“It is not about your people”

Stepping into action after Servet’s phone call, the villagers called Gülyazı Police Station. They told what Servet said on the phone and requested a helicopter and an ambulance. The people in the police station said, “Don’t worry. It is not about your people.” The villagers hit the road, but they weren’t able to proceed, since the vehicles were frozen. They stepped out of the cars and started running. When they arrived at the crime scene, they couldn’t have believed their eyes. “We saw that our children were blown to bits… The mules were still burning. We assembled the pieces we found and formed a human being from them. The leg of a mule became the leg of my son. We humped them. 3 people were injured. There was no ambulance and the tractor wasn’t able to come there. So, they died on the road.” Towards the morning, they hit the road again with a minibus and a tractor, for picking up “the remaining.”

“Is it my brother?”

20-years-old Adem Ant’s brother Hamza Ant tells what happened after the bodies were brought to the village: “At night, I woke up at my mother’s crying. We waited until the morning. First, a vehicle came and I ran toward it thinking that maybe my brother is there. My brother wasn’t there, but I saw my cousin’s body. Then, a tractor loaded with bodies came. I asked my father, whether it is my brother. He said yes. I couldn’t have looked at his face. I embraced my brother; I mean, what is left from my brother… We are a family of 12 and my brother was taking care of us. He never took me when he was going smuggling. I am the only one in the family who goes to school. He was 3 years older than me. He wanted me to complete the high school. He was going to marry in the spring. He was saving money for paying the bride price. Now, it is over…”

“They weren’t able to close the eyes of my fiancé”

Losing his 2 relatives, Yüksel and Salih, and his fiancé Adem Ant because of the massacre, Garibe Ürek says that they were betrothed in the cradle and loved each other so much. She says that her cousins died holding hands:

“Yüksel and Salih Ürek were my cousins and Adem was my fiancé. The soldiers headed them off. All of them were at the border and prayed for hours. Then, they ate something, because they were too hungry. At one point, the soldiers retreated. The planes dropped bombs over them. They were broken into pieces. They hid under the mules; the organs of mules and people were jumbled up. My fiancé’s eyes were open when I saw him. No one was able to close his eyes. My cousins died holding hands. Adem was my betrothed and the only person that I have trusted. I knew him since my childhood. He was in the death agony for half an hour. He died with his eyes open; no one was able to close his eyes. He went for saving some money up for our marriage. He had done nothing to be ashamed of. If there were factories here, we would be working in those factories, we wouldn’t insist on smuggling. But no one cares about people here.”

“Now, my other son will go on smuggling”

Emine Ürek lost his son because of the massacre. She wants to sit face to face, because she wants to have an eye contact. She pulls two photographs from an envelope and says, “Now, I will tell you what happened.” Two photographs…

“This is my son and this is my brother’s son. We were living together. This one is 18 years old and this one is 16 years old. Adem Ant and Yüksel Ürek. Yüksel was my oldest son. I have 6 children. We have no income, no money. There are no job opportunities here. He had to do his. From all eternity, this border has been used for this business. This is how these people make a living. My son dropped high school, because we have no income. My brother’s son was engaged. He was taking care of 12 people. He had to do this. We have to do this whether we live or die. Now that my son passed away, his younger brother will do the same job. If he dies, then his younger brother would do it. We either leave this country, or continue to do this, because there is no factory or animal here. What else can we do? I told him not to go, but he did…”

“We will pay compensation to the prime minster, if he gives his son to us”

Emine Ürek says that they don’t want compensation; they want prime minister to reveal the identities of the perpetrators.

“We will pay compensation to the prime minster, if he gives his son to us. We don’t want compensation; we want to know who did this. I wouldn’t miss my son for the world. We are talking about people’s lives here. I am inviting the prime minister to come here and see our poverty. The state kills our children. The state is responsible of the deaths of both soldiers and our children, because we are citizens, they have to protect us. We want to know who gave the order for bombing our children. My son called me at 21.29. I told them to leave the mules and take refuge in the state. They should have arrested them, if they are guilty. Why did they kill them?”

“Why didn’t they stop them on the way to the border?”

The villagers demand that the footage taken by Herons are revealed and ask: “If they had information on PKK guerillas, why did they allow the villagers to go in the first place? Usually, when there is an operation, they inform us and say, “Don’t go smuggling today.” Why didn’t they warn us that day? While we were on the road, there were Herons above and they took footage. They should have thought that these men crossed the border and they will come back eventually. They should have identified us from that footage. And why didn’t they call us to surrender first?”

“They should apologize first, if they want to come here”

The villagers say that the state should at least apologize: “They should apologize first, if they want to come here. My son had no choice but smuggling and this is state’s shame. No one should dare to say that they deserve it because they are Kurdish. They say that they won’t apologize. This means that they will continue killing our children. The state kills us. I have been watching TV for 8 days to see if they would apologize…”

“Kurds learned how to hit from the state”

The district governor came to the village for expressing his condolences and the villagers attacked him. After this incident, 8 people were taken into custody.

“We don’t approve the attack, but we are going through hard times. The governor threatened people and wanted us to remove the poster with the photographs of our dead relatives. He said things like, ‘I have 200 armed men.’ We already tear our hearts out. Few young villagers attacked him and now, they take almost anyone from the village into custody. They have a list with 60 names. 35 people were killed and there is still no suspect. This is unbelievable. Now, the media and people in the West condemn us. We learned everything we know from this state. Kurds learned how to hit from his state.”