IDPs in Washukani call for safe return
Displaced people from the occupied city of Sere Kaniye in camps have renewed their demands for a safe return to their homes, amid a sharp deterioration in humanitarian conditions inside the camps. They are calling for international guarantees and safe corridors to end their ongoing suffering for over six years.
Amid rising heatwaves and deteriorating basic living conditions, the suffering of thousands of displaced people from Sere Kaniye and its countryside, who have been living in Washukani camp west of Hasaka for over six years, continues to worsen. In this place that was never a homeland, tents have turned into boxes of pain, and prolonged waiting has become an open wound that never heals. The demand for return is no longer just a dream but a collective cry rising from the depths of their hearts.
The camp, established in October 2019 following the Turkish occupation’s attack on Sere Kaniye, lacks the minimum requirements for life. Electricity is scarce, water is insufficient, infrastructure is exhausted, and relief services are inadequate, making life for its residents a continuous struggle that worsens day by day.
During a field visit conducted by ANHA Agency inside the camp, we listened to voices exhausted by waiting and testimonies filled with pain and regret, yet still clinging to the right to return, like roots that never die no matter how long the absence.
"I Just Want My Land"
With a voice full of sorrow and a tone brimming with anger, Fatima Al-Khalid, a fifty-year-old displaced woman from the countryside of Sere Kaniye, says: “They won’t open the road, and if we go, we’re imprisoned in cells... We just want our homes and lands. We’re tired, and I can no longer live in this camp. No water, no electricity, and the food aid is poor.”
She adds with determination: “Secure the road for us. We have homes, even if they’re destroyed; we’ll rebuild them. What prevents us from returning are the mercenaries who arrest and torture anyone trying to return without reason. Our only demand today is a safe return.”
“I lived with dignity and respect. I had projects and lands where I worked and lived honorably. I envied no one. But today, 13 of us live under one tent, and I can’t describe the extent of our suffering," Hussein Al-Zahir speaks with a weary tone as he recalls his past life.
He continues: “We’ve been here for six years, and we don’t understand what’s happening around us. We just want a safe return. If the situation isn’t stable, we won’t return. We demand that international organizations and relevant authorities provide us with housing and remove all threats, like landmines, before we consider returning. We can’t return randomly without real guarantees.”
"I Want to Be Buried in the Soil of My Home"
While Mansour Sheikhmus, an elderly sheikh, speaks with eyes full of longing: “I want to spend the rest of my life in my home, among my lands, in peace and safety. I want to be buried in its soil, not on this foreign land. We had everything: trees, water, projects, and we lived with dignity.”
He adds, with sorrowful questioning: “What is our fault? Why did they bomb us with planes? Why did they displace us from our lands? All the world’s countries cooperate, so why this hostility toward us? They killed our children and displaced us. Where is their humanity? Where is their faith? Where is their conscience?”
A Plea That Must Not Be Forgotten
Amid this harsh reality, the voices of the displaced in Washukani camp rise, demanding a return to their land after long years of waiting under tents torn by the wind and bodies exhausted by heat, cold, and hunger. Their demands are no longer limited to temporary service improvements but center on a decisive step: a safe and dignified return.
The cries of the displaced are not just political demands but humanitarian pleas that must resonate with international bodies and human rights organizations. It is a call to end displacement and restore dignity.
a.k
ANHA
IDPs in Washukani call for safe return
Amid rising heatwaves and deteriorating basic living conditions, the suffering of thousands of displaced people from Sere Kaniye and its countryside, who have been living in Washukani camp west of Hasaka for over six years, continues to worsen. In this place that was never a homeland, tents have turned into boxes of pain, and prolonged waiting has become an open wound that never heals. The demand for return is no longer just a dream but a collective cry rising from the depths of their hearts.
The camp, established in October 2019 following the Turkish occupation’s attack on Sere Kaniye, lacks the minimum requirements for life. Electricity is scarce, water is insufficient, infrastructure is exhausted, and relief services are inadequate, making life for its residents a continuous struggle that worsens day by day.
During a field visit conducted by ANHA Agency inside the camp, we listened to voices exhausted by waiting and testimonies filled with pain and regret, yet still clinging to the right to return, like roots that never die no matter how long the absence.
"I Just Want My Land"
With a voice full of sorrow and a tone brimming with anger, Fatima Al-Khalid, a fifty-year-old displaced woman from the countryside of Sere Kaniye, says: “They won’t open the road, and if we go, we’re imprisoned in cells... We just want our homes and lands. We’re tired, and I can no longer live in this camp. No water, no electricity, and the food aid is poor.”
She adds with determination: “Secure the road for us. We have homes, even if they’re destroyed; we’ll rebuild them. What prevents us from returning are the mercenaries who arrest and torture anyone trying to return without reason. Our only demand today is a safe return.”
“I lived with dignity and respect. I had projects and lands where I worked and lived honorably. I envied no one. But today, 13 of us live under one tent, and I can’t describe the extent of our suffering," Hussein Al-Zahir speaks with a weary tone as he recalls his past life.
He continues: “We’ve been here for six years, and we don’t understand what’s happening around us. We just want a safe return. If the situation isn’t stable, we won’t return. We demand that international organizations and relevant authorities provide us with housing and remove all threats, like landmines, before we consider returning. We can’t return randomly without real guarantees.”
"I Want to Be Buried in the Soil of My Home"
While Mansour Sheikhmus, an elderly sheikh, speaks with eyes full of longing: “I want to spend the rest of my life in my home, among my lands, in peace and safety. I want to be buried in its soil, not on this foreign land. We had everything: trees, water, projects, and we lived with dignity.”
He adds, with sorrowful questioning: “What is our fault? Why did they bomb us with planes? Why did they displace us from our lands? All the world’s countries cooperate, so why this hostility toward us? They killed our children and displaced us. Where is their humanity? Where is their faith? Where is their conscience?”
A Plea That Must Not Be Forgotten
Amid this harsh reality, the voices of the displaced in Washukani camp rise, demanding a return to their land after long years of waiting under tents torn by the wind and bodies exhausted by heat, cold, and hunger. Their demands are no longer limited to temporary service improvements but center on a decisive step: a safe and dignified return.
The cries of the displaced are not just political demands but humanitarian pleas that must resonate with international bodies and human rights organizations. It is a call to end displacement and restore dignity.
a.k
ANHA
