It’s Mother’s Day. And My Daughter Doesn’t Know Who I Am

There is no point of celebrating the Mother’s Day as long as all mothers who are separated from their children are not reunited.

As mothers, we are fighting for their future. For the future where books are not burned, printing houses are not shuttered and books are not thrown away out of fear that the police may find them.

We are fighting so that they could grow up with confidence in a world where freedom of expression is not a crime. That they will be able to raise their voice as much as they want.

That’s the reason why we are separate.

And we are more dignified than those who are together with their kids but remain silent in the face of injustice.

Only memorable stories and strong children will be left behind…

My daughter doesn’t even know me. But similar to other kids who don’t know their mothers, she will listen to our story from the history and from others.

Maybe in 10 years or in just a couple of month, I will tell her stories of mothers who gave birth alone in prisons. Mothers who were arrested with their kids on their arms. Mothers who were not even allowed to nurse their newborn babies. Mothers who were fired from their jobs. Mothers who staged hunger strikes. Women who looked for their kidnapped husbands or their lost children. We call them “Saturday Mothers.” I stand together with all those mothers. And, my daughter, you are together with the disappeared kids.

It’s worth it.