by Apo W. Bazîdî,
a filmmaker and writer who has been volunteering in the camps in Suruç since October 2014
Once upon a time there was a little cute town named Kobane. People were happy and busy with their ordinary lives. Barbers, butchers,tobacco shops, tea houses and playgrounds... Farmers came from villages to the city for change. Shopping in the garment bazaars for a wedding dress. Awed by the apartment buildings and cars… In the middle of this ordinary life there was a disabled boy named Azad. His body did not match his name AZAD (Freedom). He was born “abnormal”. He couldn’t move his body except his head. He never played with his friends, never rode a bike, jumped a rope, nor closed his eyes for hide and seek. But he always smiled and the freedom that he wanted to have in his body was alive in his eyes.
He then flew away under the rain of bullets to a far foreign land. Kobane turned into hell since the day he left. Blood was running in the channels of water and bombs were going off everywhere for “justice”. Months passed by and Azad tried to adjust to his new “cage”; a tent in a camp where many birds of freedom like himself were kept as hostages. Rain, hunger and shame grew big in their hearts and their wings got stronger and stronger from the pride. Maybe he was tired of eating baby formula at the age of 8. It was time to break through and carry the love of humanity back to their land. Today, Azad and many other freedom birds are returning to their home to rebuild and play where their giggles can echo in the streets forever.
Love you all.
http://kurdishquestion.com/index.php/kurdistan/a-story-of-kobane-children-of-destruction.html
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