A deportation and its consequences: "Home, language, body - everything was taken from me"

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My name is Emel and I was born 37 years ago in Kurdistan in eastern Turkey. When I was three years old, my parents fled to Germany. We were only tolerated: my parents were not allowed to work and our future was uncertain. Nevertheless, Germany became my home. My four siblings and I spoke German to each other - we barely spoke my parents' Kurdish.

We had two hours to pack

Then, in the fall of 2002, we were suddenly deported. I was in the tenth grade and was preparing for my high school diploma. I was on my way to the bathroom when the doorbell rang at 6 a.m. Several men and women were standing there and told us that we were to be deported that same day. We had two hours to pack our things. Then we had to leave.

In Mardin, my parents' homeland, we felt like complete strangers. We didn't speak the language, lived in a different culture and had no home. We were penniless and could only stay with relatives temporarily. My mother had no other choice but to get me, her eldest daughter, engaged because she couldn't support her children. When I opposed the marriage, my fiancé kidnapped me, raped me and forced me into a marriage.

I was trapped in this marriage for 13 years. Everything had been taken from me: my home, my language, my virginity, my body. I saw no way out and made several suicide attempts. Then my two children were born and I had to stay alive - I didn't want to abandon them. But I suffered from depression and thought every second: "I have to get out of here!"

Once I took a bus with my children to stay at a women's shelter in Diyarbakir. But I didn't feel welcome and certainly not safe. I had a panic attack, afraid that my family-in-law would find me, and I returned the same day.

I kept imagining the life I would lead in Germany and wrote letters to old friends and social workers. "Someday I'll make it!" - this sentence became my mantra.

The glimmer of hope

When the internet became more accessible, I saved up for a cell phone and started contacting old acquaintances on Facebook. I also considered contacting people smugglers who brought Syrians to Germany. But in the end, that was too dangerous for me with two small children, and I dropped the idea. All plans to come to Germany failed, and suicidal thoughts came back.

Then a glimmer of hope appeared: Two German friends found out that I could get a visa for Germany through the Federal Volunteer Service (BuFDi) – and even found an organization that offered me a BuFDi position.

My family knew how much I was suffering and helped me convince my husband to let me take the job. We stressed that our area was very unsafe because there were frequent clashes between the PKK and the Turkish military. Being so close to the Syrian border, there were also fears that IS could spread to our area. I pretended to my husband that I had come to terms with the marriage and was more docile than ever before. I assured him that I would bring him over later, as soon as I had established a foundation in Germany. Without this deception, he would never have let me go.

I applied for passports and the next hurdle was the visa for my children: the Federal Voluntary Service is not designed for families because the compensation is not sufficient. But my friends signed a declaration of commitment for the children and the organization I was supposed to work for agreed to cover our living expenses.

I will never forget the day I finally held the visa in my hands. A few days later, I was on my way to Germany with my children - to my homeland. The dream I had pursued for 13 years came true!

Liberation: Back in Germany

We have been living in Germany for eight years now. For the first two years, my ex-husband and his family threatened me. Eventually they gave up and we were able to get a divorce. I went to therapy, raised my children and worked part-time for the organization where I did my volunteer work. My children speak German better than Kurdish. Now they are old enough for me to concentrate on my own future. I am currently completing my school education so that I can study social education. I want to help other women who are trapped in similar situations to the one I was in.

Today I'm talking about my story to show other women that we should never give up. That it's always worth standing up for yourself and fighting. Nothing is set in stone: even traumatic experiences don't have to shape us forever. We can be happy again.

Brigitte

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