I decided to take photos when I understood that the opinions of my family made no sense anymore. But my mum wouldn’t allow me, telling me “girls don’t take photos”. So I did it unbeknownst to her anyway. I had found a spare camera and I used to leave it at home so that my mum would think I left my camera home…

I belong to a family of Kurdish descent that moved to Germany from Diyarbakır (Turkey). We were raised in such a conservative way that my mum wouldn’t allow us to wear long sleeves. We weren’t allowed to go out most of the time. I felt like I was trapped in a cage, I would be sitting beside the window usually, looking through outside… If you see my portfolio, you would notice the photos are mostly taken through window or through something. I also noticed this after a while, taking a look at my portfolio myself.
I was truly longing for freedom. One day I took my camera and left home. What was interesting that every time when I just let things happen, I ended up where I should be. During the time when I ran away from home and was hiding elsewhere, I was approached by boy who was 12-13 years old and he asked me if he could use my phone to call the police. I gave him my phone. While waiting for the police to arrive, he told me he ran away because he wasn’t allowed to go out. It felt more than a mere coincidence…
While getting on the police car, the boy turned to me (he looked more like a grown up at that moment) and said ““Ok, I wish you all the best on your way. I will do it alone.”. We say “machs gut” in German. More commonly used when we’re not sure whether we will see that person again or not. It sounds like wishing well, like “take care of it all, do well”. He said “machs gut” and left.
It has been seven years and a half, I have not seen him again. Not sure what he did but I never returned home. I carry on… 


My Kaaba is HUMAN Stories.


by Sinem Taş
Cara a cara | 29 March 2019 | My Kaaba is HUMAN Stories.