Kudos to the proud sister
“The ideas cannot be extinguished by force or violence, by cannons, or rifles”
M. Kemal Ataturk

    Thank you sister Merve for the candle you lit pierced the darkness in many hearts,
    sent the ray of hope where the hope was scarce.
    Thank you for showing us what the indomitable human spirit is capable of,
    for the dignified calm you displayed in the eye of the storm.
    The sloths hanging upside down from the tree,
    seeing the universe upside down, called you “vampire”.
    The vampires, the predators, the scavengers and the parasites,
    Gulliver's yahoos were thirsting to feast on your blood.
    They smashed the olive branch you extended.
    They took the pious humility that your faithful parents taught you,
    as the sign of weakness, for they knew not otherwise.
    They could not see that the earth was round and the sun could not be smeared
    with mud
    They thought they could intimidate you into submission
    for the tyrants were used to submitting to tyrants.
    But you proved them wrong.
    You did not succumb.
    You headed your higher calling,
    held your head up high and stood your ground.
    You towered as they sunk.
    Just when we thought they could not sink lower,
    they made their toddlers shout at you
    the words they could not pronounce.
    But then again, maybe the babies understood “secularism”
    as much as their teachers, parents, the rulers and the ringmasters.
    The truth scared them to death
    What if others find out, they said,
    the power of dignity, virtuosity, piety?
    For the racket they had was predicated upon the absence of Virtue,
    the abundance of ignorance, hedonism, transvestitism,
    greed and callousness.
    They closed their ears to the laughter of the Westerners they worshiped,
    to their misery, buried their heads in the sand and wowed to defend
    their empire of Sodom and Gomorrah against your hijab,
    in your beloved motherland.

    Thank you sister, for making your despised, disenfranchised, scorned, abused
    sisters lift their head up high and say loudly and proudly “I am Merve Kavakci”.

    Bekir L. Yildirim
    Washington, DC

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