In four neighborhoods in Nusaybin, which was destroyed after the self-governance resistance, right next to the public housing authority TOKİ’s newly erected buildings women and children continue their lives. In a handful of neighborhoods left after the destruction, women prepare for the winter and children play in the streets.

The curfew declared in Mardin’s Nusaybin district on March 14, 2016 was partially lifted recently on July 25. Like in Sur, Şırnak, Cizre and Yüksekova, the Ministry of Environment and Urbanism launched a wide scale demolition in Nusaybin’s neighborhoods where the clashes occurred. 9 neighborhoods were declared risky areas and Dicle, Fırat, Abdulkadirpaşa, Yenişehir, Zeynelabidin and Kışla neighborhoods were demolished without distinction between little and severely damaged buildings. After the demolition, TOKİ built housing in the region, but ignored the demands of the people, who demanded land but were given TOKİ flats and were told by the Ministry that the price of the land would be returned to them. The TOKİ buildings are expanding every day in the area.

PEOPLE CONTINUE TO RESIST

Even though the people don’t want them, the construction of TOKİ buildings has accelerated while the people of Nusaybin continue their lives amidst the demolition. Hundreds of TOKİ flats have been built in the neighborhood where the residents who were able to save their homes and make repairs witness the remainders of the resistance turn into TOKİ-land every day. Citizens receive threats that “it will be their turn soon”, but insist that they will do whatever they can to not let go of their homes.

ALL THAT IS LEFT IS THE SOUND OF DEMOLITION

TOKİ buildings broke ground months ago and they are almost completed. The TOKİ buildings, shaped like tiny chicken coops of 5 or 6 storeys, are now having their exterior painted. Nothing is left of the joy of these 4 famous neighborhoods. They have turned into ghost towns with the demolition, and the voices of children and women have given way to the sound of demolition.

SOMETHING MISSING

The fences put up between the neighborhoods with TOKİ constructions and the rest of Nusaybin have divided the district in two: life on one side, destruction on the other. There is only the noise of construction and machinery on one side, while women’s chatter and children’s laughter and games comes through the other side. Despite it all, the people still resist and look for their old lives in the remaining parts of their neighborhoods. The neighborhoods have turned into deserts with the demolition. The largest park in Nusaybin was the Musa Anter Park, which has since been demolished and only the entrance walls are left, while all bridges inside were torn down. The children gather under the few remaining trees and play. When they see me with the camera, they rush to pose for me.

“I CAN’T BEAR IT ALONE HERE”

I tear myself away from them and start walking towards the area called the Neighborhood Koçera. There I meet an old woman called Zeynep, who can’t get a permit to build a wall around her yard where she sits. Zeynep had to leave her home for one year during the clashes. She sits with her back to the TOKİ construction closeby and starts to talk about the old Nusaybin before I even ask. She starts: “Was it like this in the past?” She continues: “I didn’t stay here for long during the curfew, I had to leave. For a full year I was away from this place. When we returned, there was just one column left of our house. We fixed it, and now I live there with my children. I took my animals with me when I left. I no longer have my old joy, neither does the neighborhood. We used to sit here and talk with other women, but now it’s just me. All my neighbors lost their homes.”

PREPARING FOR WINTER AMIDST THE DEMOLITION

Tears fall down Zeynep’s face as she speaks, and then we say goodbye. I come across two women preparing for the winter by the roast pit. They are roasting eggplants, then they peel and can them. I ask them what they think of the demolition. One of them says: “What can we do? The demolition there has continued for over a year. We don’t have to learn to live with it, it has to learn to live with us. Our old neighbors will come back. Then we will prepare for the winter not alone but with them.”

REMINISCENT OF SUR

I’ve seen it for the first time but I feel a kinship with Nusaybin. The sound of demolition, the empty feeling in the people and the bullet holes remind me of Sur. The only difference between the two is what separates life from destruction. Here it is chainlink fences, in Sur it is concrete barricades. As I leave quietly, I remember the words of a woman in Sur: “The tide will turn one day, and we will take our homes back. We won’t leave our dead there. The marks of the resistance won’t be erased.”