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TEMOIGNAGES, 2024

 

Installation, divers objects with writings on them

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"Témoignages" is a series of installations inspired by "Şiddete karşı anlattılar - Ayakta kalma ve dayanışma deneyimleri" (They told their stories against violence - Experiences of survival and solidarity), a book first published in 2009 by Mor Çatı - Kadın Sığınağı Vakfı (Women's Refuge Foundation).

The book consists of testimonies from women who suffered male violence, spoke out against it and then met Mor Çatı. 15 women shared their experiences of violence, resistance and solidarity with other women, with women they knew would transform them into a common memory.

During the research process for the installation series, I had the opportunity to speak with volunteers working at Mor Çatı and authors who contributed to the book. In my interviews, I concluded that the book had been written with the aim of understanding the complexity and depth of violence against women, reflecting on the causes and consequences of violence, and developing effective strategies in the fight against violence. The stories told in the book are based on women's real-life experiences and reveal how violence is shaped and spread. In addition, the book analyzes in detail the obstacles women face when recovering from violence, and how they combat these obstacles. While Mor Çatı's shelter services and solidarity network help women to recover and build a new life in a safe environment, it also highlights society's role in combating violence. The book is intended as an important resource for understanding the roots of violence and taking action for social change, while encouraging women to support each other. In this series, each installation is inspired by the stories of different women in the book, and aims to reflect the depth and diversity of these stories.

Each installation was created using the women's own expressions and experiences. As a result, the phrases featured on the installations come straight from the women's mouths. These phrases, written in Turkish, were expressed in the women's mother tongue, as it was important to reflect their experiences as accurately as possible and not to alter their way of expressing themselves.The objects chosen for each installation are selected from the images that come to mind after the story to which they relate has been told. These objects attempt to express the women's emotions and experiences by deepening the story. The installations express the uniqueness and pain of the violence suffered by each woman, as well as the power of endurance and resistance by being exhibited as a whole.

The presentation of the series includes phrases in Turkish as well as translations to facilitate public understanding. However, the main aim of the exhibition is to enable women to make their voices heard in their own language, and to respect their experiences.

Fatura bana kesildi -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim stories

 

"Fatura bana kesildi", 2024

(“The bill was in my name”)

Installation, invoice models, felt pen on Grey

Necla Akgökçe's story "Fatura bana kesildi" describes the process of transformation and empowerment we witness in a woman's life. Elements such as reading books, supporting her daughter during her illness, contributing to her family by studying tourism and working during summer vacations, and gaining her freedom become evident. Her thoughts on love are expressed with sincerity, and it is emphasized that working with battered women gives her strength. Her future goals are to gain more knowledge and awareness.

 

  • Remembering is hard, painful... There were times I thought I needed to remember everything in order to forget. Those were terrible times... But perhaps we can turn remembering into a shared experience. For women, this is essential, because our wounds are collective—as are our remedies.

  • We fall silent... Everyone seems lost in their own story.

  • With two canes in my hands, trying to run with a deaf left ear from the slap I received, I knew he would catch me on the streets of a Central European city. And I couldn't go to the police either...

  • They say even a stone would crack, but she wasn’t a stone—just a delicate, sensitive little woman...

  • Why are we like this? We always blame ourselves for the violence of these damn men, this male-dominated world.

  • “A strange psychology developed in me; I could see everything, but I couldn’t feel it—as if I were behind glass…”

  • So what does the future want, after so many catastrophes?

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Plastik kalp -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim stories

 

Plastik kalp, 2024

(Plastic Heart)

Installation, a plastic heart model, felt pen

İnci Aral's text Plastik kalp describes the contrast between the beautiful nature outside and the oppressive atmosphere of her interviewee's home. The narrator discovers the violence and pain within the interviewee's family, including the realization that her mother submits to her father's abuse. The text explores the complexity of family dynamics, gender roles and the lasting impact of childhood experiences. İnci Aral's text Plastik kalp describes the contrast between the beautiful outdoors and the oppressive atmosphere of her interviewee's home. The narrator discovers the violence and pain within the interviewee's family, including the realization that her mother submits to her father's abuse. The text explores the complexity of family dynamics, gender roles and the lasting impact of childhood experiences.

 

  • It took me a long time to learn rebellion.

  • It was a strange bond. When my father said "come", my mother couldn't disobey.

  • Sometimes, I wanted to be a ghost, to come down from heaven and strangle all the bad fathers while they slept.

  • I was always flawed and weak next to him. I constantly felt inadequate for not being what he wanted.

  • What I saw was that his emotions were numb and dulled.

  • The walls of our home witnessed scenes of horror and vulgarity for years.

  • For years, the rooms echoed with screams, slamming doors, cries...

  • In those moments, we forgot what language was; my sibling and I would cling to each other, burying our names in a pit while curses rained upon us.

  • I never called him "father" again.

  • Why did he torment me? Why was he so full of hatred?

  • Then I started to climb the steps of my own staircase.

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Hep filiz gibi başımı yoldular, ben yeniden inadına topraktan filizlendim -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shel

 

"Hep filiz gibi başımı yoldular, ben yeniden inadına topraktan filizlendim", 2024

(“They kept plucking my sprout, and I kept growing again from the soil”)

Installation, multiple branches, soil, felt pen

The text "Hep filiz gibi başımı yoldular, ben yeniden inadına topraktan filizlendim" by Handan Çağlayan describes the resilience of a woman, Remziye, who faced various forms of violence throughout her life, but never gave in. She expresses her determination to resist and live on her own terms, passing on this strength to her daughter. The story highlights Remziye's unwavering spirit in the face of adversity, and her commitment to writing her story as a form of empowerment and healing.

 

  • Her fear of confined spaces doesn’t stem from the small janitor's room of her childhood. The real reason was the windowless room her husband locked her in after kidnapping her. She never forgot that room, whose iron lock she couldn’t open.

  • Because my father never saw love, I never received love either.

  • I pulled the blanket over my head and didn't want to let go, out of fear. I didn’t understand anything. But I never forgot those rifle butts under the blanket.

  • My discomfort came mostly from being trapped at home.

  • I should be able to roam freely, play outside. I fought for that.

  • Before anything became clear, I found myself trapped in a circle.

  • Maybe I'm looking for a helping hand in him.

  • Maybe it's about seeking approval from a man.

  • But with the brutality of that night...

  • After coming home, I was tortured with the tights pulled from my feet. I carried its mark on my neck for years.

  • He raped me in 1994. I was beaten during the rape. My skull was fractured.

  • No one I trusted helped me.

  • I only asked for a place to sleep for a couple of days. All I wanted was to sleep without thinking for two days.

  • I couldn’t play or run the way I wanted. I never became what I wanted.

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öyle işte, kurtulmuştum artık -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse vict

 

"öyle işte, kurtulmuştum ben artık", 2024

(“so yeah, I had finally escaped”)

Installation, pieces of white cloth, felt pen, clothesline

In the story "öyle işte, kurtulmuştum ben artık" , Ayşe Düzkan tells the story of C, who, although she looks like a young girl, is a mother who gave birth to her fifth child in a shelter. C, originally from Mardin Midyat, Turkey, moved to Adana with her family and faced difficult living conditions after the death of her father. C's life was turned upside down when the character of the man she married for love changed after their marriage. The text describes C's struggle for her children and the fact that she found refuge in a shelter. C's greatest advice to her children is to study in spite of all the obstacles, and to have a profession so that they can stand on their own two feet.

 

  • Of course, us girls weren’t allowed to work. We weren't sent to school. You know how it is—girls don’t study or work, it’s considered shameful, sinful. That’s what they pressured us with.

  • Honestly, I loved him more than I ever loved anyone in my life.

  • I had dedicated my entire life to him, or so I thought. I said, no matter what, I just want to be with him.

  • Before we got married, he never showed his true self. He portrayed himself perfectly.

  • When I remember those days, it feels like I’m reliving them.

  • Purely to torture me...

  • When I think about the things he did, his actions, I grow more hateful and resentful toward him.

  • I kept asking myself—how can someone who loved me change this much in such a short time?

  • He stabbed my leg in front of my daughter, attacked us with a knife, saying he would kill us.

  • Then two or three days later, if you let me go, he’ll beat me worse when I return. I mean… I'm amazed he didn’t kill me.

  • He took the kids from the house, kidnapped them, saying he would get them back.

  • I never want them to experience that again.

  • Until now, they didn’t know what love was. They’ve grown up with beatings and violence since birth.

  • I had lost all trust in life.

  • I have no love left to give to any man. I don’t think I’ll ever feel anything for a man again.

  • I was so busy that I never thought about myself—until now.

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Ölsem tamamen annesiz kalacak çocuklar -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual a

 

"Ölsem tamamen annesiz kalacak çocuklar", 2024

(“If I died, the kids would be completely motherless”)

Installation, models of bakery panels, felt pen

The script "Ölsem tamamen annesiz kalacak çocuklar" written by Siren İdemen features an interview with Maria, who talks about her life after divorce and custody battles. She talks about her work, her two children and ongoing custody issues. Maria's son is 12, her daughter 8, and they live alternately with her and their father. Despite the difficulties, Maria remains resilient and strives to provide for her children.

 

  • When we were engaged, he didn’t show his bad traits.

  • I grew up in a very conservative family. My mother had strong beliefs like, “You must marry with honor.” Concepts like that...

  • If that concept hadn’t existed, maybe I wouldn’t have married.

  • My family warned me a lot, but I wasn’t afraid, honestly.

  • I did everything. I was playing the full “bride” role.

  • And then, that day, he raised his hand at me. Just because it was 7 minutes late. Actually, it wasn’t even late.

  • It felt like my dreams shattered… I was devastated.

  • Financial pressure, jealousy... Those were always there.

  • Later, he started treating me badly, insulting me—not with violence, but with words.

  • “You can’t get divorced now, you’re pregnant.”

  • He beat my son with a knife, a cake knife. He used that knife on him.

  • It became unbearable again.

  • It’s like he was doing everything just so I wouldn’t want to go anywhere.

  • The police were going to detain him, but then his connections stepped in and talked them out of it.

  • Someone’s following me, and I’m scared. I keep thinking, “He’s going to kill me. Maybe my husband sent him.”

  • Know this: you’ll stand on your own feet, and you’ll take the kids.

  • Of course, he started speaking differently—he realized he lost his power. And we got divorced.

  • There’s this idea in Turkish society: the man will beat, curse, and the woman will still live with him, not divorce him...

  • I set goals. And when you set goals, you gain a will to live.

  • What I’m looking for is peace—for both me and the kids.

  • I try to look at it this way: it’s over now, it happened, I’ve learned my lesson.

  • If they see something wrong, they shouldn’t think “he’ll change.”

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Cumartesi -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim stories

 

Cumartesi, 2024

(Saturday)

Installation, calendar, felt pen

In her short story Cumartesi, Müge İplikçi, influenced by an interview with a woman who suffered abuse and rape in her youth, tells the story of Fidan, who meets a young man in the garden of an orphanage on a Saturday and forms a bond with him. The story captures the essence of a moment in time, highlighting the beauty of simple interactions and human bonds. Through vivid descriptions and poignant dialogue, the text explores themes of resilience, human bonds and the impact of the small gestures of everyday life. The encounter between young Fidan and the boy symbolizes the hope, goodness and beauty that emerge in unexpected moments.

 

  • From the pale-colored walls of the orphanage—her fate shared by many children like her—she saw two shadows approaching the sheltered garden through the marketplace.

  • Her mind got stuck on that festive scene. Seeing families with children at the market gave her eyes a strange warmth, and in those moments, tears would quietly stream down her cheeks.

  • She had neither the dullness of inside nor the harshness of outside. She was a neutral zone—safe and without risk.

  • Life was real, harsh, yet Fidan, wandering through her dreams, was a funny little girl. She laughed heartily at life’s indifference.

  • The orphanage walls were thick—thick enough to smother childish dreams. Only on Saturdays would those walls break; life would seep in and give space to dreams.

  • But I was stubborn, and I became a lawyer. To reclaim everything that was taken from me: the beatings, the rapes, the loneliness, the days and nights without money, the longing…

  • What came next was reality itself. She looked into the boy’s eyes again. She saw nothing.

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Türkan yaşamak istiyor! -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim sto

 

Türkan yaşamak istiyor!, 2024

(Türkan Wants to Live!)

Installation, red bag, felt pen

Şebnem İşigüzel's Türkan yaşamak istiyor! tells the story of Türkan, a strong woman who has had to deal with violence from her family and husband, and who is determined to build a new life for herself and her child. Despite her struggles and health problems, Türkan is portrayed as a loving, patient and caring mother who loves her child deeply. The symbol of Türkan's desire to live is the little red bag she carries, reminiscent of Anna Karenina's red bag in the novel, signifying resilience and the will to live.

 

  • What she told me was real. And this time, I couldn’t exclude myself from life; I listened to what she said as if hot oil was being poured into my ears. Most of the time, I was speechless, I couldn’t ask questions.

  • I can’t bear it. If I’m still standing, it’s only for my child.

  • When I found out he was married, I broke off the engagement—then came the beatings from my father, from my brother... the insults...

  • I didn’t know that while escaping the rain, I’d be caught in a hailstorm.

  • I’m not without anyone—my family exists, the father of my child exists, but even though they don’t have the means, being abandoned by them is incredibly difficult.

  • I even thought of harming myself. But I thought of my child—he would be unhappy. Everything was for him.

  • There’s nothing my mother can do either. The man is the one who supports the household, he works, he earns money; the woman must obey him. That’s how it is with us.

  • I thought that people who saw my husband beating me in the street would wonder, “Did she do something wrong?”

  • I did everything by myself. I didn’t depend on anyone.

  • …Now when I look at people my age, they’re out playing soccer on the streets.

  • I’ve always been alone. I still am.

  • Family means support—being there for you, even when you just have a headache. Family should be that...

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Ekin tarlasındaki kahkaha -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim s

 

Ekin tarlasındaki kahkaha, 2024

(Laughter in the Wheat Field)

Installation, a plastic cow head model, felt pen

Karin Karakaşlı's Ekin tarlasındaki kahkaha describes the story of a woman named Metanet (fortitude in Turkish) who embodies resilience and hope despite the difficulties she encounters in life. Metanet is shown as a strong woman who silently endures the violence and abuse inflicted on her by her father and husband. Through Metanet's story, the text highlights the cycle of violence transmitted from generation to generation, and the impact of domestic violence on women's lives.

 

  • To endure all this and still seek hope can only be explained by resilience.

  • Outwardly she’s young, strong, and healthy. Her shell doesn’t reveal the wound inside.

  • She lets it out gently, because if anyone deserves healing, it’s her.

  • Her story is one of violence passed down from generation to generation, from house to house, from father to husband.

  • While buyer and seller are content, who cares about the inner world of a young woman?

  • To her husband’s family, she was nothing more than a field hand.

  • “You destroyed my life, but I won’t let you enjoy my death,” I said.

  • I left the house, and that was it… Then came the suicide attempt that couldn’t succeed… Then a one-way ticket to Istanbul... Then a shelter she swore to find after seeing it once on a women’s TV program.

  • For Metanet, work is not just money, it’s honor. It’s the code of a dignified life.

  • Because she’s a mother, and she left her children in hell. Even now, her mind is only with them.

  • She no longer has ties with them—because now she’s a fugitive... She’s fighting not just for a piece of bread, but for her life against her tribe, who says “If a woman leaves, she only returns in a shroud.”

  • The real story begins where her words end.

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Babam beni sevmesin isterdim -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victi

 

“Babam beni sevmesin isterdim”, 2024

(“I Wish My Father Didn’t Love Me”)

Installation, a box of rat poison, felt pen

In "Babam beni sevmesin isterdim", we read the conversation between writer Handan Koç and Nermin, born in 1977 in Ümraniye, about her life. She comes from a conservative family with three brothers and parents from Kastamonu and Sinop. Nermin was confronted with uncomfortable situations with her father from an early age, which led her to feel disturbed whenever he showed her affection. This discomfort continued even after she moved to Istanbul, where she realized that her father had touched her inappropriately as a child. The story highlights Nermin's difficulties in dealing with her father's inappropriate behavior, which had an impact on her emotional well-being and sense of security. It highlights the lasting effects of childhood trauma and the importance of reporting abuse.

 

  • Why did my father pull his hand off me and move away when my mother walked in?

  • I felt uneasy when he touched me. There was a strange kind of breathing...

  • In our house in Istanbul, I felt his hands between my legs. I woke up, moved, and saw him flee. He had opened my bedroom door, and as he silently slipped away, I saw his face. That’s when I realized something terrible had been done to me.

  • You're so little, and your father comes to you with the lust a man feels for a woman. That’s the kind of touch. That’s the kind of smell.

  • But I’m his daughter, and no man in any movie ever did this to his daughter.

  • I had a sexual experience, but it was horrible. It wasn’t anything like in the movies. I couldn’t love him.

  • There are always silent wars.

  • At that time, I had experienced something sexual, but I still didn’t know a single word about it. I didn’t even know the word "abuse."

  • I told everything without hiding anything.

  • “My mother-in-law said, ‘Is that the kind of girl you marry? Always out and about!’ She said, ‘I won’t accept her as a bride.’ That’s where it all fell apart.”

  • That day, I felt like I had to kill him.

  • I got married, but I still couldn’t escape this man.

  • They never saw me as worthy of a proper wedding. I wasn’t even given a wedding ring.

  • I tricked him, saying we’d meet again—and that’s how we divorced.

  • Then I realized his new wife had started being harassed by my father too.

  • Every time I hit rock bottom—often—it crushes me to think it’s all because of my father.

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Benim hayatım kitap -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim stories

 

“Benim hayatım kitap”, 2024

(“My Life Is a Book”)

Installation, a book, felt pen

Pınar Öğünç's story "Benim hayatım kitap" focuses on R's life, marriage and divorce. R struggled against psychological and physical violence and tried to build a new life. One of the turning points in R's life was the incident she experienced on January 9, 2008, when she was raped by her ex-husband after running into each other in the town hall. R, who lives with her three daughters, advises her children to read and learn from their own mistakes.

 

  • He appeared everywhere. I filed 10 lawsuits against him—nothing was done.

  • He hit me once, and I crashed between the couch cushions... During that time, he undressed me and raped me.

  • I called 155 from the neighborhood office, but I waited an hour; it was cold, raining.

  • “Has humanity died?”

  • “I have no officer, no team to assign to you. Bring me a report, then I’ll take your complaint.”

  • “I have no home—please take me downstairs.”

  • I wanted to go home and commit suicide in the coal cellar.

  • My friends came to my engagement party and asked me, “Which one is the groom?” How should I know? I only saw him when he put the ring on.

  • I never loved him. It never worked from the start. And he never let himself be loved. I endured for my family’s honor.

  • After the baby was born, he began beating me under any pretext.

  • What do you mean ‘go back’? I grabbed my coat and my kids and left. I had promised—I wanted a divorce and nothing else.

  • He doesn’t even know where I am now. Meanwhile, the police are under investigation—my case was handed to the human rights division. My lawsuits are ongoing.

  • Sometimes I feel suffocated—like I’m choking.

  • All I say is this: You must study. You must earn your own bread. Look at me…

  • Especially after all I’ve been through, I wish I could study law. If I ever get the chance and don’t, I’d be ashamed.

  • Don’t tell me, “Go to the police if something happens.”

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Adam kadını dövdü... -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim storie

 

Adam kadını dövdü..., 2024

(The Man Beat the Woman...)

Installation, bucket, water, felt pen

Hande Öğüt's Adam kadını dövdü... details the experiences, emotions and turning points of an abused woman. The main theme is the trauma the woman experiences through her body and how this affects her life. The text reveals how the violence suffered by women from childhood to adulthood, particularly male power, leaves its mark. The woman's eyes, hands and body convey to the reader the traumas, emotional state and traces of her past. She also tells how women's struggle against gender roles, domestic violence and gender norms are closely intertwined. She emphasizes that every experience a woman goes through leaves deep traces on her body and soul.

 

  • I’m shocked; she’s so petite and delicate. Then I’m shocked by the fact that I’m even shocked.

  • She knows this: every motion made with grace and tenderness by one’s hand acknowledges the command that the other's vulnerability directs toward it...

  • To fill the pit she’s settled into, she must speak; words are the nourishment of the gaze.

  • I think my mother was afraid—she had remarried. She was scared to come back, scared to look for us.

  • Tired of my father’s beatings, I ran away, knowing I had nowhere to go and that returning would bring even worse punishment...

  • She’s like a mythological hero; a modern-day Sisyphus...

  • One morning I woke up and found a stain.

  • It’s an intimate area—immoral, supposedly.

  • Everything happened under my father’s supervision; even the rape ceremony...

  • That’s why I ran away. So they would rescue me.

  • “I can present you more proudly to my family—you’re a proper house girl.”

  • As if I were a punching bag to him.

  • I never knew why I was beaten.

  • “He’s your husband—he loves and hits.”

  • It’s not about what men want anymore. I have my own rules now.

  • She’s not a woman who gets beaten—her husband is a man who beats.

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Kader buymuş demiştim -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim stori

 

“Kader buymuş demiştim”, 2024

(“I Said, ‘This Must Be My Fate’”)

Installation, a letter, felt pen

The story told in the text "Kader buymuş demiştim" written by Yasemin Öz is that of a woman's forced marriage and subsequent violent relationship, before finding refuge at the Mor Çatı women's shelter. The woman was forced to marry her uncle's son against her will, and suffered economic, psychological and physical violence throughout the marriage. By taking refuge in Mor Çatı, she gained self-confidence and independence by opening a place of work. However, she is still in the process of officially separating from her husband and faces economic hardship in the process.

 

  • I saw there was no outcome. It wouldn’t change. Even if it got ugly, we would be humiliated.

  • But I couldn’t return—I was too ashamed.

  • In small towns, people gossip too much. Everyone stares at you like you’re some kind of freak.

  • I had to fight all by myself.

  • He tried to win me back by slandering me.

  • I left just to clear my head. Then I thought, why go back at all?

  • Honestly, Mor Çatı (the women’s shelter) is better than family.

  • “No matter what, I won’t give up divorcing you.”

  • A women’s shelter gives you your self-worth back.

  • If I complain, he’ll kill me.

  • The state believes women deserve this—violence. They blame the woman for being abused, I think.

  • Since he attacked me, my mental health has deteriorated—I can’t work.

  • The woman is always at fault. Even me speaking out now—it’s a crime.

  • They behave this way toward women simply because of their physical strength—they have no other superiority.

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Zeynep -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim stories

 

Zeynep, 2024

(Zeynep)

Installation, plastic bag, felt pen

Nükhet Sirman's Zeynep tells the story of Zeynep, who made a fresh start by taking refuge in Mor Çatı with her three children after suffering violence for many years. Despite her violent past, Zeynep, who attracts attention for her determination and calm, has regained her self-confidence in Mor Çatı and has put her life with her children back in order. In the process, despite the traumas she has endured, she has managed to remain strong and has chosen to tell her own story. Mor Çatı not only provided Zeynep with shelter, but also helped her regain a foothold in life by offering her physical and psychological treatment. Zeynep's story symbolizes not only a personal struggle, but also solidarity and faith in the power of women.

 

  • Even though the ends of her sentences couldn’t be heard, the meaning was clear.

  • “My son, this isn’t trash. We’re running away from your father.”

  • He caught us there. When he did, my sister and I just kept looking at each other—I look at her, she looks at me, I look at her, she looks at me...

  • Then I saw it—my brother-in-law’s eyes, like that...

  • They did for me what neither my mom nor dad ever did.

  • What was going through my mind? Murder.

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Halbuki çok basit bir şey -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic, sexual abuse victim s

 

“Halbuki çok basit bir şey”, 2024

(“But It’s Such a Simple Thing”)

Installation, sports tracksuit, felt pen

The text of "Halbuki çok basit bir şey" written by Tuğba Tekerek depicts the story of a young girl named Yasemin who had to work to support her family due to her mother's inability to provide for her alone. After years of psychological abuse, the physicalization of the violence is the trigger that drives Yasemin to go to the police to protect her mother. Yasemin's determination and resilience in the face of the challenges of working while studying at a night school are highlighted. This story highlights the difficulties faced by people like Yasemin in accessing education and opportunities due to societal and economic constraints.

 

  • Fifteen-year-old Yasemin, whom we saw working while others her age strolled the streets with books in their hands, skirts swinging, and spirits fresh with the excitement of doing things for the first time, had no choice but to work.

  • There was no category for “Children whose lives have been devastated because their mother was abused” among the groups to be supported.

  • At first, I was anxious too. The answers to these questions might not be what we hoped for...

  • Yasemin was born in the first year of marriage. “Unfortunately,” as a girl... Some from her father's side mourned her birth.

  • When explaining why her father didn’t love her, Yasemin listed first: because she was a girl.

  • “Where we’re from, girls aren’t really liked. It’s a matter of bloodline.”

  • The second reason he didn’t love her, according to Yasemin: she wanted to go to school.

  • “She’s likely to go astray—don’t let her attend school.”

  • “I was crying, sobbing. I was scared. It was dark... I didn’t know anywhere.”

  • “If a female friend came over to my house, my dad would say, ‘Set me up with her.’”

  • “My sister, this man won’t bring you any good. May he be close to God and far from you—leave that house.”

  • And now it’s morning... The first morning of a new life. A life without a father, without a husband, without violence.

  • “Places like this can completely change a person’s life. They do what billions or relatives cannot.”

  • Yasemin became her mother’s protector, and her mother became hers.

  • “As long as I live, may you be tormented.”

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Saçlarımı istediğim gibi uzatabiliyorum artık! -Art installation inspired by Mor Çatı Women’s Shelter Foundation's domestic,

 

“Saçlarımı istediğim gibi uzatabiliyorum artık!”, 2024

(“I Can Finally Grow My Hair However I Want!”)

Installation, a comb, felt pen

"Saçlarımı istediğim gibi uzatabiliyorum artık!" by Candan Yıldız tells the story of Füruzan, who suffered violence from her husband for 27 years, but never gave up. Today, she is free and has a new life. Füruzan grew up in Ardahan in a family of civil servants. While her mother struggled with miscarriage and illness, her father was handsome and loved women. Her mother was courageous and rebellious. Füruzan was married at the age of 15, but her marriage turned into a nightmare that lasted 27 years. During this time, she gained economic independence by working in direct sales, and raised her children. Finally, she made a decisive decision and got rid of her difficult life. Füruzan's story is an example of freedom gained by fighting against difficulties.

 

  • Her story is one of full liberation and rebirth...

  • She came to the edge of death and murder... But she didn’t give up. Now she’s free; she has a brand-new life.

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