THE VERDICT

“So guys, what are we doing this weekend?” I asked our group. There were five of us: me, Uğur, Mizgin, Defne, and Murat. We usually hung out like this. All of us had strange stories, but Mizgin’s were always the strangest. Mizgin had been born and raised in Mardin, but she came all the way to Istanbul for university. “I don’t know about you guys, but I have to go to Mardin,” she said. “My mom called—it’s urgent. Apparently, it’s really important.” After she said that, I turned to her. “Honestly, I’m so curious about that place. Once this school finally ends—since it’s our last year—I’m definitely going to travel there.” With that childish smile on her face, Mizgin replied, “Sweetheart, this school never ends. Why don’t you come with me? Who knows, maybe we’ll even find you a tribal lord to marry.” I giggled. She was always teasing me about this because I constantly joked, “I’ll find a tribal leader and marry him on the spot.” And the funny part? I was actually serious about it. While we were joking around, Uğur—our group’s loudmouth—jumped in immediately. “Yeah, take her with you so we can finally have some peace.” When Defne agreed with him, I crossed my arms dramatically and pretended to be offended. “Fine, I’ll go. Maybe my dream will come true and you’ll never see me again,” I said, turning away. They all laughed. Murat, always the gentleman, put his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t tease my Hicran. The girl’s already far from her family, living in a foreign city…” That instantly made me think of my family, whom I missed terribly. Yes… my family lived in France. They were originally from here but had migrated years ago. I was the only daughter—besides my older brother, who also lived in France with his wife, Melis. They were very happily married. Hopefully, one day it would be my turn too… with my still imaginary tribal lord. 🙂 Lost in thought, I heard Mizgin’s voice. “So? Are you coming with me to Mardin or not?” She emphasized the word Mardin, and smiling, I answered, “Yes, I’m coming.” Coming was one thing—but how was I supposed to get permission from my parents? They had only allowed me to study in Istanbul. There was no way they would let me travel to another city, especially one in the east. I still couldn’t understand why my educated parents had set such strict limits. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. “Wait for me,” I told my friends. “I’ll get permission from my parents and come back.” I called my mom. She answered after a few rings. “Hello, queen of mothers. How are you, my angel?” I said sweetly. With years of experience, she replied, “What do you want this time, Hicran?” Smiling, I said, “Well… there’s a school trip. It’s for a week. Can I go? Everyone’s going.” “Where is this trip?” she asked suddenly. I froze. “Well… uh… İzmir,” I blurted out, taking a deep breath. I almost couldn’t think of a city name. When there was silence on the other end, I panicked. I was sure she’d say no. Then she spoke. “Alright. You can go. Is Mizgin coming too?” I rolled my eyes. I really didn’t understand what she had against that girl. “Yes, mom… why? You really don’t like her, do you?” “A mother knows best, Hicran. Stay away from that girl. Actually, stay away from people from the east altogether.” Her reaction made no sense to me. My mother wasn’t racist—never. But I couldn’t understand this attitude. “Okay, mom. Say hi to dad for me,” I said and hung up. When I returned to the group, Mizgin looked at me. “Aunt Sultan was tough, huh?” “Very,” I replied. She laughed. “I really don’t get why she doesn’t like me. She hasn’t even met me.” “Forget it. Look at the result—we’re going to Mardin this weekend.” “Yes, but Hicran… I have a bad feeling. Like something is going to happen.” Rolling my eyes, I said, “Don’t be paranoid. What could possibly happen?” “But—” she started. “Please, Mizgin. I already dealt with my mom. I can’t deal with you too.” She just nodded. I slung my bag over my shoulder and said, “Alright, I’m heading out. I need to prepare. You never know—maybe I’ll actually find a tribal lord,” I laughed. Mizgin sighed. “Girl, people in Mardin run away from tribal leaders, and you’re looking for one. Real tribal leaders aren’t like the ones in books. Every mistake has a price. And when it comes to honor, the end is death.” My blood ran cold. “I once heard my parents talking,” she continued. “Two kids from rival tribes ran away together 25 or 30 years ago. They were never found. The tribes are still enemies—like fire and gunpowder. Nobody talks about it anymore, but I think they’re still searching.” Her words chilled me. Who were those people? How could loving someone lead to death? “Oh come on,” I said. “It’s been so long. They probably have grown kids by now. What could they do?” “You’re still saying what could they do? You’re studying law, Hicran. But their justice is nothing like yours. Here, families make peace after a few days. There? If a girl runs away, the tribe gathers. A verdict is given. Either the couple is killed—or they force a berdel marriage.” I was stunned. I couldn’t respond—my phone rang. After speaking in Kurdish, Mizgin turned to me. “Hicran, get ready. We’re leaving for Mardin today. My dad called—it’s urgent.” I was surprised that we were leaving immediately, but I just nodded. Today or tomorrow—it didn’t matter. We were going to Mardin anyway.