"The Protector" by Arda Kural
Having deep conversations with cab drivers is an everyday occurrence around here. You would be surprised to see how many of these people would rather have a quick chat about news from around the world or our seemingly unfixable education system. It is all fun and games until one of them asks you, “So, where are you from?” Anyone who has lived in this country long enough will know that this question might lead to the driver evaluating how open-minded you are or if your hometown ethnically differs from the average Turkish community in the slightest way.
Then you come home, get comfy and decide to share this encounter on Twitter, but you have to phrase yourself in a perfectly impolitic manner. Simply because that is what you are used to. Political discussion stays inside your home; you make sure to keep the volume of the TV low enough to not be heard by your neighbors since the channels you view—much like the place you were born—create an unchangeable link to a political party in Turkey, which you may not have been involved with at all. So you are free to share that Tweet, but you don’t do it. You can, but you don’t.
The biggest problem facing women in my country is, undoubtedly, me. Not as a student, not as an adult, or not as a man; but as someone who shies away from speaking up.
As a transmitter of this silent epidemic, I’m embarrassed about not taking any initiative, but at the same time, I realize that I’m part of a problem, a weird culture of shying away from speaking up, much greater than any individual can fix. Not being able to express your thoughts and feelings is characteristically derogatory in its way; however, it becomes a nation-wide issue once this individual silence transforms into an ignorant society.
The biggest challenge, that is our ignorance, takes place every day, everywhere.
Last August, a mother was killed right in front of her daughter. This tragedy took place in Kırıkkale, a conservative city in the center of Turkey. After Emine’s ex-husband came into a restaurant, he proceeded to slash her throat with a knife. While Emine was trying to control the amount of blood she was losing, she cried out “I don’t want to die”. To which, her 10-year-old daughter replied, “Please don’t die mommy”. This was heartbreaking and embarrassing for everyone who heard the news.
It should be pointed out that such crimes are not the problem, but are the consequences. Women’s empowerment is not necessarily something that is actively oppressed in Turkey, but something we have failed to discuss within the borders of this country, repeatedly. It has come to the reprehensible point that women’s rights activists are exclusively viewed as just another version of the climate movement or animal rights activists.
The first thing that should be done, which I wholeheartedly believe will help tackle the core issue, is to publicize these crimes along with the terrible criminals. A couple of months ago I came across a system called the National Sex Offender Public Website, a platform where registered sex offenders can be searched. There are certain filters as well, facilitating one’s needs if they want to limit the search to a certain town, city or state. Obviously, this system is exclusive to the United States, and I couldn’t do much other than asking myself “Is it possible to build a similar platform in Turkey?” While it is irritating Turkey has not adopted a similar structure yet, implementing this will have a direct impact on the safety of not only women but everyone living within the borders of our country. Each citizen has the right to be aware of their surroundings since this form of urgent self-protection is more functional than the nation-wide defense system of any given country.
The answer to this challenge is not about the sense of protection, either. When the people who commit these crimes are constantly feeding off of the silence of a whole nation, it is hard to oppose such power and confidence. The solution doesn’t lie within the barricades that people try so hard to thicken every day, it is time that we realize the thing which should be protected isn’t a certain group of people: rather, it is a fundamental idea which we alienate ourselves from during the daily discussions on lunch breaks or the mildly intimidating cab journey.