My mother, Reza’s mother and Fazel’s mother are crying together

Fazel’s village is near Reza Barati’s. Their villages are beside a river and a high high mountain. My home is near their homes. There is only a mountain between us. A mountain and a river between our homes.

My mother climbed up the mountain today and went to Fazel’s mother’s home.

My mother, Reza’s mother and Fazel’s mother are crying together.

I heard Seymare river is crying with them.

Under Fazel’s village is one of the most ancient and oldest cities in the world. It is called Sirwan. They are crying on the oldest city for Reza and Fazel.

I heard that all of Kurdistan’s beautiful mountain’s are crying. All of Sirwan is crying – mountain, river, wild flowers… All of Sirwan is crying with out mothers.

I hear the oldest songs the mothers are singing in Ilam city, Sirwan and Kurdistan. I hear their voices crying from this Manus prison.

I hear the oldest song from the mothers. It is called Moor.

Moor is the oldest song the Kurdish mothers sing for their boys and warriors who lose their lives fighting with enemies that attack Kurdistan land. It is a song for brave sons.

Fazel and Reza were brave sons. They fought for their lives with the Australian government and the dark ocean.

When I was in Kurdistan, many times I climbed up that highest mountain. There are the oldest oak trees there. I hear the oak trees are crying too.

My heart is so heavy because I heard the deepest sorrow Moor from my mother today.

I have never heard a Moor like this Moor that Reza’s, Fazel’s and my mother are singing.

This is Kurdish culture. We are born by song, live by song, fight by song and die by song.

I feel deepest sorrow because of Fazel’s death.

He deserves the deepest Moor song.

My heart is heavy because I am crying and listening to Moor for my best friend in a prison on the remotest island in the world.

I never thought I would hear Moor for the bravest of Kurdish sons in a remote island in the heart of a big ocean.

I always think about the Moor my mother will sing for me when I die.

I thought that song would be sung in beautiful Kurdistan. I am sure Reza and Fazel thought like me but their lives were taken in remote places, not in Kurdistan.

They lost their lives because of injustice.

They lost their lives in a foreign land.

Who was there when their lives were taken?

My mother, Reza’s mother and Fazel’s mother are together singing the deepest Moor.

– Behrouz Boochani
(Kurdish journalist incarcerated Australia’s black site on Manus Island)