From Qanat to Qarne
by: Mahmoud Najmaddin
translator: Shkar safeer
It has been seven consecutive days raining and snowing heavily, Sulaimanyah was becoming like a rice field. The flood had swept away all the neighborhood and streets’ cartoons, plastics, cigar papers, and wastes. On the week’s last rainy night, the sky cleared, and a bitter cold started. In the morning, when the sun rose all around the city was white, Azmar and Piramagrun mountains covered with snow. The streets were frozen, the drivers, afraid of the slippery roads, were moving slowly, and the passerby were carefully proceeding.
That morning, like every other one, Mariwan was going to university, stepping carefully and looking around for unfrozen areas to walk on, when he reached Qanat street, he heard someone calling his name, “Mariwan, do not go dear ….’, meanwhile, he turned around and slipped, he slipped and lost consciousness. The nearby shopkeepers gathered around him and in no time an ambulance arrived taking him to hospital. The physicians tested him, but the results were unpromising. One of the doctors, in the presence of an investigator had taken out Mariwan’s mobile from his pocket looking for his brother or father contact numbers to report Mariwan’s case. The first recorded contact number was “My brother Amad”. The doctor phoned Amad’s number from his device. Promptly, all of Mariwan’s family members arrived to find Mariwan lying on a hospital bed. Soon the doctors, for Mariwan to be recovered from his unconsciousness, were hopeless. To treat Mariwan, Shamal sold a land so that he earns enough money to take Mariwan to one of the European hospitals, in Europe, from one hospital to another, Mariwan was moved. The European doctors diagnosed Mariwan’s case the same as Kurdistan doctors did, “his consciousness may only be back automatically, even if he is recovered, he will not be the same Mariwan again.” Shamal hopelessly brought him back to his hometown.
Time passed by, Mariwan was sinking in his unconsciousness, like someone sleeping, he was merely breathing. Sometimes, a balloon bang, door squeak, or turning T.V volume up made Mariwan woke up for a while and again into unconsciousness. Mariwan’s brother, Amad, was shaving his coarse beard, sometimes as the razor was touching his chin, Mariwan woke up for a second. Many times, his mum, hoping Mariwan to regain consciousness, was dropping a glass, but Mariwan was over and over again going back into unconsciousness. Months passed by, two and three, yet Mariwan was still unconscious. Like a dead person, his family were taking care of him, Amad and his father were shaving his beard, and laying him on a board to wash him. Mariwan’s sister and his mother, Madam Dulbar were chopping food and putting it in a capsule, also they squeezed fruits, put it in a syringe and dropped it through his throat to reach his stomach, and sometimes they were hanging water bottles for him. In this way, Mariwan lived in unconsciousness and escaped death. At the end of the fifth month, late at night, Mariwan uttered something. Dulbar, sleeping beside him, screamed, “Shamal, come over quickly, “ Dulbar had shouted so fiercely the whole family woke up and rushed into Mariwan’s room.
Dulbar: Mariwan has talked.
Shmal putting his arms around Dulbar’s shoulders, said, “With God’s help he will get well soon. Go back to sleep, you are tired, I will look after him.”
Dulbar: I am not going.
Amad and Bahra, with their sleepy faces, were back to their beds and slept. Shamal sat on the only sofa beside Mariwan’s bed, hugged Dulbar then fell asleep.
On the fourth day of the sixth month’s illness, Mariwan, for the second time, muttered something. It was a cool afternoon, Bahra was busy feeding Mariwan with a syringe, meanwhile Shamal rushed into the room and the syringe’s tip stuck in Mariwan’s throat and shouted thereafter, Shamal and Bahra were shocked. The same day, they took Mariwan to doctor and explained his case, the doctors put him under care. On the fourth day his stay in hospital, late at night, Mariwan attempted to speak again, Amad was standing by the window, and Mariwan shouted, “I am running out of blood.”
All of the patients in the room woke up, Amad rushed into the doctors room, and soon told his family, that night the sentinel doctor and his family sat by Mariwan, near dawn- he coughed one to two times then his throat opened, he started to mutter, “sl sl….. I slipped, I slipped and fell into a pool of blood. The village was crowded with guards. I was watching the village from above the hill weeping, I was scared to go to the village though I was extremely anxious about my father, mother and my sister Shno, I continued to watch the village from above the hill. Meanwhile, I heard Mala Ismael Saadat Pur calling me, “Mariwan, do not go dear ….”. Then, unexpectedly, I slipped into the bloody pool. Qarne was covered with blood, the village farm, and the chieftain’s garden were flooded with blood. One was running towards The Duawan village and another escaping from it. Wherever you where, bullets were heading towards you. Because of the mass gun shooting, some people were killed in the farm, others before their houses, big or small, old or young, shepherds and they killed whoever they got hold of. I have seen Ismael Pur’s head in their commander’s hand, its blood dripping on the holy book.
I was hiding behind Haji Ismael Azizi’s house walls. I wanted to escape by hiding behind the walls. When I waked up, they shot me heavily and fell over, and gradually my vision blurred. The weeping and the loud shouting of JC and BKC woke the whole city of Sophyan, Qalat and Kareza.
After the mass killing, the gunmen ran away and I waited for a while to make sure they had all gone, afterwards, I breathlessly reached Peranshar-Naghda highway, I sat on a sidewalk until I had sighted a car coming from far away. I rushed to the middle of the street and waved to it, the car stopped and the driver quickly got out of it, hugged me, put me in the car and drove off. The intensity of the pain made me feel numb and I could not realize that my left thigh, right shoulder were hit by bullets. My armpit were bleeding into my feet. The pain made me restless. I did not know where the car was heading until it stopped and the driver said, “we arrived, he got out of the car, and popped into a house, then came out with a small woman and a teenager, and took me into the house carrying me in their arms, then the driver disappeared, the teenager was standing by me. The woman was standing by the door, she was saying the same thing all the time “Dear Kazhaw see why your father has not coming yet, the poor man is bleeding badly, she was hasting out and coming in breathlessly saying that, “No trace of him yet my dear mother.”
Gradually, the pain was becoming more intense, in pain, I was holding the side of the carpet strongly with my left arm. I heard the woman’s voice saying, “dear Hoshang, is the doctor coming?”
Breathlessly, the driver said, “he is here.”
Hoshang put a bundle of clothes in my mouth and hold my hands and feet tightly as the doctor got ready to take the bullets out of my body. But how? I was about to die until I became fully unconscious, when I got to myself, I had been put in a small room lying on a soft bed, together with his family, Hoshang was sitting beside me.
All that time, I stayed with Hoshang’s family, they were serving me as their son, they brought me food three times a day. After two weeks, I became a little bit better, I wanted to go out and look for my family, Hoshang prevented me and did it himself, one morning he went out and came back by noon, sadly he said, “ I have asked about them, they are in the Naghad hospital, do not worry, tomorrow I will look for them again.”
I did not believe him, I was sure he said so to console me. Late at night, under my blanket, I was thinking of my family, the night’s serenity allowed me to overhear Madam Razan saying that, “nothing to be done, how would you tell him?” I became sure that my family had passed away. That night I cried calmly under my bed until dawn. In the morning, while we were having breakfast, I said “Mr. Hoshang, is my family gone?” tears rolled down from his eyes and said, “ we are your family” Madam Razan was leaning her face to her lap crying. I could not make them sadder than they were, so I kissed their hands and said you are my parents.
I spent sometimes at Hoshang’s home, one day, I asked for permission to leave their home, hearing this, Hoshang began to cry. I clarified my inability to live in that country any longer, then he agreed. Early one morning, I kissed Madam Razan’s hands, hugged Kazhaw, and then went to Nalos with Hoshang. We intended to go to Salmas, Marand, and afterwards to Parsabad until we reach Azerbaijan, when we arrived Nalos, I said, “Mr. Hoshang, I regret it, I would like to go to another border.” Hoshang stopped the car aside and said, “ dear son, why you refuse it, come and live with us, we will share our meals together, if not we will be thankful to our Lord.”
I kissed his hands and said, “I do not bear it to be in this country.” Hoshang kissed my forehead and said, “we will do what you say.” He turned the car and went back to Sophyan, then we went to Drbaka, we arrived Peranshar in the afternoon. I opened the car’s window, breathed fresh air and said, “what shall we do?”
He lit up a cigar and said, “do not worry about that.”
Hoshang took me to his friend’s home named Shapur. As he said, “Shapur is his old friend and did lots of stuff together.” At Shapur’s home, we talked all the night till dawn, Shapur sensing the unstable situation, attempted to persuade Hoshang to leave Sophyan. Hoshang was unable to leave Sophyan behind, he kept saying “I cannot live without Sophyan.”
Shapur said: Dear Hoshang, these talks are useless, come to the city for a while and then go back when the situation becomes stable. I feel a great danger approaching, what happened in Qarne is just the starting point.
Hoshang, lit up a cigar, touched his beard, then said, “I will do what you said, I will come to the city.”
Shapur was pleased to hear this, hugged each other tightly, laughed and then cried a lot. I felt the relationship between the two friends were filled with good and bad memories. Shapur swept away his tears, put his arms on my shoulder and said, “tomorrow we will bid this brave man farewell,” I put my hands on my chest and thanked him.
We spent that night at Shapur’s home, early in the morning of Khazlawar, 1358, they handed me over to a man named Mustafa Haji Kareem, Hoshang, crying, gave me some money and we parted. With Mustafa, we went through villages and cities till we reached Sulaimaniyah.
At Sulaimaniyah, because of Shapur’s acquaintances, Mustafa took me to a rich man named Haji Jalal Alaf, Shapur’s old friend. In this way, I lived thereafter. Many years passed by, and I am still working with Haji Jalal, however, I am getting bored from the city and will leave it. I will be back, I miss Hoshang and Madam Razan, I miss Qarne, I will go, go … Mariwan was shouting at the top of his voice “Let me go.” Shamal, Amad, and one of the doctors were holding him, and he was jumping over and shouting out, “Let me go.” Dulbar and Bahra were crying. Mariwan continued to shout, attempted to run away, until a doctor injected him and laid unconscious, then he was taken to a sentimental mental hospital.
For information:
Qarne – NAQADA, Eastern Kurdistan — 41 years ago Khomeini with his Islamic ideology declared Jihad “Holy War” against Kurds. Soon after the success of the Iranian nations revolution against the tyranny rule of Shah, Islamic fanatics and clerics took an advantage of the social and political structure of the Iranian nations and the influence of the religion on them. Because majority of the Iranian people are followers of the Shia branch of Islam, clerics took an advantage and exploited the Iranian nations for their Islamic ideological purpose.
When the Islamic regime faced difficulties in Eastern Kurdistan and its Islamic policies were flatly rejected by the Kurdish people, Khomeini as the founder and political and ideological leader of the new regime announced Jihad against the Kurds in Eastern Kurdistan on 18 August 1979.
41 years ago in 2nd September 1979 , 49 civil people, from Qarne village in Naqada city, were assaulted by the Iranian revolutionary guards and shot to death. After that, several more genocide took place, by the Iranian barbaric regime, in villages such as Qalatan, Sewzy, Enderqash, DylanCherkh, Helbi, Kwekan, Keryzey Shkakan, Cheqal Mstafa, Khelife Lyan, Gorkhane, Sowkend, Qaragowl, Dema Sowr, Jafar Aabad, Marjan Aabad, Bayzawe, Gondewella, Dow aw, Korekhaney Saro Qamish, Helleqosh, Geja and Sofyan.
As a result of Holy war against the Kurds 242 Kurdish men and women were shot died, 105 of them were from villages around Naqada and 72 of these victims were from Mahabad and the others were from other cities in Eastern Kurdistan such as Shno, Urmia, Bokan, Pawa and Piranshar.
