Horrendous end to story of human desperation
Gerard Seenan, Monday August 06 2001, The Guardian
Firsat Yildiz came to Britain in search of freedom; he was met
by the blade of a knife. At the hands of a man whose language he
had not even fully mastered, Yildiz was murdered, on the streets
of Glasgow, his 16-year-old friend by his side.
It was the horrendous end to a story of human desperation. Fuelled
by dream and fear, Yildiz had fought his escape from oppression
in Turkey to a place he believed he would be free. How quickly his
dreams soured.
Yildiz had arrived in Scotland one year previously. Initially,
he sought the help of a friend in the Ayrshire town of Irvine. But
the friend, also a refugee struggling to get by, could offer little
support. So Yildiz joined the thousands in the refugee dispersal
programme and moved to Sighthill.
Sighthill sits grey and bleak on the outskirts of Scotland's second
city. Its high rise flats are steeped in monotonous poverty: families
survive on next to nothing, heroin is a hard currency. It is where
Glaswegians do not want to live and, before the asylum seekers came,
flats lay rotting.
For a man like Yildiz - young, small, quiet - Sighthill would have
been a difficult place to live. But it was, at least, better than
life in Turkey.
"He liked life in Scotland and he was becoming happy here," said
Cobanoglu Ali, a housing worker who knew him well.
Yildiz had been out for a cheap meal in the city centre with a
16-year-old friend. They walked home, cutting across the M8. At
12.20am on Sunday two white men approached. An argument broke out.
On a scrap of wasteground, Yildiz was stabbed. A few minutes later
he died in the street. It was, said police, an unprovoked attack.
His mother still does not know her son is dead.
The death of a man so far from home leaves many questions unanswered.
He came to Britain in search of freedom; how he got here and what
he was trying to escape from are not fully certain. It seems no
one knew him well enough to be sure.
Yildiz was born 22 years ago in Gizia Antep, a tiny village buffeted
by the borders of Iraq, Syria and Turkey. It seems he became involved
with the PKK and the fight for a Kurdish homeland.
The Kurdish community in Glasgow say Yildiz fled Turkey after he
was imprisoned by the oppressive authorities. "He was put in jail
because he was involved with the PKK and wanted justice for the
Kurds," said Peri Ibrahim, a Kurdish translator.
The prison, in Diyarbakir, has the reputation of nightmare. "It
is worse than [the film] Midnight Express," said Seyhan Ozgurt,
a Kurdish community worker. "They will torture you for at least
one month until you tell them names and information. It is the worst
prison in the world."
But Yildiz is said to have had friends in Diyarbakir. His family
are not rich but they pulled together what money they had. "He paid
a bribe in Turkey to a prison guard," said Mr Ibrahim.
After that, how he got to Britain no one knows. Within Turkey there
are agents who will smuggle Kurds to Britain; $4,000 (£2,900)
is the standard price on the chance of a new life.
The Scottish Refugee Council, which assisted Yildiz, said it did
not know how he got here. His friend, Mr Cobanoglu, said he had
no knowledge of him being in prison.
Yesterday afternoon the refugee community of Glasgow made clear
he would not be forgotten. At 3.30pm, a few hundred gathered among
the Victorian buildings of the city's George Square to mount a vigil.
"We must make sure that no one else is allowed to die like Yildiz,"
said Mohammed Narveen Asif. "We do not blame the people of Sighthill,
many of them are very good people, but there are also racists responsible
for this and many other attacks.
People are scared to go out. This cannot continue. Only yesterday
someone else was hit by a bottle and had to go to hospital."
In the past 14 months, there have been 70 racist attacks in Sighthill.
"Unfortunately, it is not surprising," said Julia Allan, of the
Scottish refugee council.
"A group of extremely vulnerable people housed in an area of high
deprivation."
Poverty, more than racism, is the key. "It's difficult for folk
round here when the council does nothing for them and the asylum
seekers come and get flats laid out," said an elderly woman who
asked not to be named.
"I know these people haven't got a lot, but people round here have
got nothing and when you've got nothing it's easy to be jealous."
By yesterday afternoon, Yildiz's death had become a political issue.
Community leaders and race campaigners met council officials. Charlie
Gordon, leader of Glasgow council, held a press conference. "I would
like to see every decent Glaswegian, and indeed every decent reasonable
Scot, doing more to speak up when they are confronted by racial
behaviour," he said.
But outside the city chambers Mr Cobanoglu stroked back his hair.
"I come from the same village as Yildiz," he said. "I have tried
to get through to my mum so I can let his family know what has happened,
but nothing."
As he lies in a Glasgow morgue, even Firsat Yildiz's family, back
in their grocer's shop, do not know the full story of his life.
They do not know he is dead.
Copyright Guardian Newspapers Limited
http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,3604,533149,00.html
