I
Heard the First Ring of My Death.
By Sardasht (Saro) Osman
translated in to Endlish: Kirmanj Ahmed
In the last few days they
told me: you don’t have much longer to live, or as they told me “you are
no longer allowed to breathe in this city”. I don’t fear death or pain.
I am waiting for the end of the allotted time to meet my killers. I pray
that they will give me a tragic death the same as my tragic life. The
reason I write this is so everyone knows the youth in this country are
Homo Sacer* and that death is the simplest choice they have. I want them
to know that what scares us is the continuation of this condition for
future generations, not our death. My duty is to fulfill satisfaction
for my little brothers, not my self.
What bothers me about these threats is that there so many issues to
discuss and it can’t be left like that. It is unfortunate that this
State is apathetic towards the death of its people.
Yesterday, I informed the Dean of our college that last night they
threatened to kill me. He told me this was a case for the police. I
don’t know if there is another country where a college student gets a
death threat and his University takes shameful inaction. The Dean or the
University should have sponsored my case as their own, as I am a part of
this school. But this did not shock me. I knew for a long time that this
country’s universities are not havens of tranquility.
Later, I contacted the head of Police General, Abdul Khaliq, who told
me, “This mobile phone number may be from abroad, or it may be a private
issue, and it may happen again. But [Erbil] is safe and nothing like
that can happen here.”
With a whimsical smile, I thought of the Director’s reply; it may have
been Sarkozy who threatened me. How can I be sure my life is safe if
only few days ago, a friend of mine was beaten and forced to leave this
city because of his writing?
Whatever happens, I will not leave this city and will wait for my death.
I know this is the first ring of my death knell and is ultimately a ring
for all the youth in this country. This time, I will not press any
charges nor will I inform the authorities. This a path I choose and I
will bear the consequences. From now on, I will think of every word that
I write as my last. So I will try to be truthful as Jesus. I am happy
that I have something to write about, but there are people who don’t
want to listen. Whenever we whisper, their ears become restless. We
should talk as long as we are alive. When my life ends, let my friend
mark a period, start another sentence and continue where I left off.”
*a citizen status in Roman law where individuals are stripped of the
right to life and all civil rights and liberties.