Stories of dehumanizations and humiliations continue unstoppably. Acts of tragedy in the theatre of the people of Afrin are only known to the people who experienced its catastrophes.
21 people were shouldering their way, in a minibus, from their village Ashonah to Afrin, passing by a deserted village, Barbanah, in Rajoo. They took an in unasphalted road to flee the bombardments of turkish jets on the main road. Just few meters near Barbanah school, their minibus turned to flames by the bombardments of the jets. Only four survivors who could barely see lights were alive.
“Uncle, uncle! Daddy, daddy! Where are you?” This is the sound came from a child after 8 months of the massacre. He clutched my leg in Ashrafia Neighborhood in Aleppo.
Only the survivors of massacre tell the truth. This boy of three years old has had enough brutality of human atrocities. He writes the history of the occupation of Afrin.
ahmad bilal jornalist
My little Kurdish boy, there is no way crying; this world is all but an enemy to you.
