I have tried several times to write this article. Writing has always been a joyful activity for me, but since the earthquake, I have found it very difficult. Just as life has become very difficult.

Hatay has been shaken by earthquakes several times over the centuries – we have just experienced the most violent one. Nevertheless, life is full of surprises – you never know which door will open next. After the earthquake on 6 February 2023, our lives were turned upside down. We were certain that the apocalypse had begun for us. Our homes, our people, our city – everything was gone. It was as if we were trapped in a nightmare from which we could not wake up. 

When the tremors began, I initially thought it was a minor quake. I wrapped myself in a blanket and tried to calm down, hoping it would pass quickly. But it didn't. The earth shook so violently that it felt as if someone were pulling the ground out from under us and plunging us into the void – only to catch us again. We were only just able to save ourselves. 

It was raining, and I remember that I wasn't wearing slippers. Then came the voices, the screaming, the cries for help – and the thunderclaps announcing the next quake. Finally, dawn broke. We returned to the village with the injured and set ourselves up in a neighbour's greenhouse. We stayed there for days with about 30 other people. It was very cold, and the aftershocks were so violent that I lost all hope of survival. Every day I woke up feeling that we would die that day. And I went to sleep with that same feeling – if you could call it sleep that is. 

A few days after the quake, an acquaintance told me that she and others wanted to organise workshops for children in the city and surrounding villages. I joined them. It was hard to see the city in ruins. 

We started an initiative called ‘Blue Birds’. We went from village to village and met the same children at the same time every week. Every day on the way to the village, I cried in the midst of the rubble. But when we played with the children, I was happy – I experienced the healing power of children. On the way back, I cried again. 

In the second week, the children looked at us with shining eyes and asked, “Will you come back?” And just seeing that was worth all the effort. At that moment, I thought, ‘This is the meaning of life. This is what I live for – and because I didn't die in the earthquake, I will do everything in my power that’s needed.’

One day, I received a call from an unfamiliar number. A woman said she had heard about the ‘Blue Birds’ on public radio. She was part of a large team that had come to Hatay and wanted to meet us. I invited them to my place. 

It turned out that she and her team were from Emergency Education. There were twelve people from Germany, Iraq and Turkey. They asked me where they could best support children, as many children from the city centre had arrived in our village. Our village itself was not as badly affected by the earthquake. I showed them around the whole place and then took them to the village school. The next day, we made an announcement and invited the children there. Many came. 

Then my boss at the time called me and asked me to return to work, so I was only able to rejoin the emergency education team on the third day. When I arrived, the children suddenly started singing, holding hands and forming a circle. I joined in. Accompanied by gestures, we spoke the words: “Above me the sky, below me the earth, and here I am.” For the first time since the earthquake, I looked up at the sky during the day without fear. That day, I found the place where I wanted to be. I joined the emergency education team and took part in the training courses. One day, they announced that they wanted to set up a child protection centre in Hatay – and asked if I wanted to work with them. I accepted without hesitation.

We immediately found a place that we transformed into a child protection centre where children could feel at home. We reached hundreds of children right from the start – and to this day, we begin and end each day with them. I hope I can spend my whole life with children and have the opportunity to heal our wounds with these innocent, but still vulnerable children.