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The rule of `fear` and `pretense`…
Sevgul Uludag
caramel_cy@yahoo.com
I spend another week travelling around Cyprus – first to Limassol, to see the wife and daughter of `missing` Pavlou Solomis and his son Solomis Pavlou, then back to Nicosia to see a woman whose husband is `missing` from either Kyrenia or Famagusta Boghazi. With the Turkish Cypriot woman with the blue eyes, whose brother is `missing` from 1963 New Year’s Eve, we go again to Karpasia… First we stop at Lefkonico (Geçitkale), then we go to Komikebir (Büyükkonuk) and then to Koma-tou-Yalou (Kumyali) in search of some Greek Cypriot `missing` and doing research about rapes in the area…
We sit in a restaurant to eat and the fish as always, will turn into poison in our stomachs – the `news` we hear is something we cannot digest – any sane person cannot digest the news of the rape of very young girls, some of them getting pregnant and not knowing what to do as their bellies grew… The rapists of both communities got away with their sins – Greek Cypriots raping young Turkish Cypriot girls and Turkish Cypriots raping young Greek Cypriot girls… Ours are sick societies to cover these rapes up, letting the rapists go free, without any punishment as though what they have done is perfectly normal… The way we cover up these crimes, it is clear that in future, our children somehow would have to pay for them… We pretend not to see, not to hear, not to know, to sweep everything under the carpet and make as though, our house, Cyprus, is perfectly clean… Silence is also part of this game – knowing and not saying anything, seeing and not protesting, observing and not trying to stop these are all part of this big game called `The Cyprus conflict`.
With the woman with the blue eyes, we go to the `Tourism Hotel` that has been closed for the past one year… One of my readers had described to me a single palm tree next to the hotel, where underneath four Greek Cypriots are supposed to be buried, who are `missing` from Koma-tou-Yalou.
I see the tree, a big palm tree, standing alone on the beach and as I walk towards it, the woman with the blue eyes sits in the car, with her sunglasses on… I can’t see her eyes, can’t read her expression but I know that stories of rape affect her deeply. Once she had told me, she had begged this man to kill her and her children, in case Greek Cypriot soldiers got inside the walled city of Famagusta…She was in hiding with others inside the walls…
`Please!` she had begged him… `Please, if they enter… You need to kill me and my children…`
The young Turkish Cypriot soldier had told her:
`But don’t you see these hand grenades? What do you think they are for? Of course I will throw these grenades to where you hide…`
`Ah! Thank you so much!... I really appreciate it…`
And she had felt such a sense of relief, she told me, when he had said that…
She went back into hiding, all smiles and her mother was surprised:
`Are you crazy woman? Why are you laughing when Greek Cypriots are attacking us? Have you gone mad?!`
She would smile to herself quietly and wouldn’t explain to her mother, what she had asked from the young solider outside… But each time we encounter these rape stories, she would remember the horror she went through that day…
`I can even understand the killings` she would tell me… `But I can’t understand rapes… I simply can’t… When there is fighting, how could they think of having fun with women? What made them do these things? What turned them into monsters?`
But despite the trauma of fearing what might have happened to her, we continue to work together, in search of what has actually happened on this island…
Early morning today, my next stop is Petrofani (Esendagh) village. This time, Ali Esendagli, whose father and five other members of his close family is `missing` is taking me there. He picks me up at 07.30 in the morning and by 08.30 we are in Petrofani… This is a ghost village, standing up on a hill, desolate, with houses destroyed, streets in dirt, no people living here – just animals from neighboring villages… Athienou (Kiracikeuy) shepherds are using the old sundried brick houses as their mandras (sheepfolds) and in some houses, they are raising rabbits…
Here, in this village, 7 Turkish Cypriot old persons remained in 1974 – they had not fled to Louridjina (Akincilar) close by… Some of them could not move so the father of Ali, Mr. Ismail, remained to look after the old people. One more person went to the village later, making their number 8.
The UN would visit them and bring news to Louridjina to Ali and his relatives that they were doing fine in Petrofani. Upto the 17th of August, 1974, they had news of their relatives but after that date, the 6 Turkish Cypriots went `missing` from the village… 2 of them, one of them the grandmother of Ali was brought to Louridjina on the 19th of August 1974 by the UN, with more than 50 bullets in her body – she had been killed. An old lady who was incapacitated was also brought back to Louridjina the same day, alive. But 6 Turkish Cypriots were `missing`.
In the extensive exhumation process in Petrofani last year, the Missing Persons Committee could only find one person from the group of the six `missing`. For the other `missing` five, new work begun in Petrofani and that was where we went with Ali Esendagli, for him to show a probable burial site in this forgotten spot called Petrofani…
He was really sad…
`I want to write a letter and put it up in all the coffee shops of the surrounding villages…` he told me. `I want to say: Okay, they have been killed. But if you know where they are buried, please speak up! Don’t you see that thousands of dollars have been spent in Petrofani, in search of these `missing`? If those who knew had spoken up, these precious funds, could have been spent in finding other `missing` persons…`
`Silence` is part of the game, `pretense` is part of the game, lack of sincerity, lack of courage and lack of taking a step forward is part of the whole game… While millions of dollars are spent in exhumations, very few persons speak up to tell us what they know…
`Fear` and `pretense` rule this country – finding out the `truth` is the most `expensive` thing you could imagine in this country… Because the `truth` is hidden under so many covers and is protected from daylight so well, it would take concerted effort to extract it from where it lies… But if we don’t do that, our children would pay even a much higher price than we can imagine today… Because there will always be forces to exploit those `fears` and `pretenses` in order to continue their rule on this island… And where `fear` and `pretense` rules, `crimes` would be glorified and `criminals` would go unpunished, passing on their `culture` for the next generations to follow…
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