On March 10th, Azerbaijani
citizens came together to protest the deaths of military conscripts. Many held
the photographs of a deceased young soldier, an 18-year-old conscript Ceyhun
Gubadov whose initial death report said the young man died of a heart failure. The
young man however was the victim of physical mistreatment. Gubadov wasn’t the
first, nor is he the last conscript to lose a life in suspicious, undefined
circumstances (most often hazing and abuse), which usually are covered by fake
medical reports.
Police ordered demonstrators to disperse
given the rally was unsanctioned. Men in uniforms and plain clothed police
however resorted to violence quickly using water cannons, rubber bullets and force in an attempt to scare the protestors.
The poem below is about my emotions and feelings- what came out as a result of recent events at home.
"suits and uniforms"
Making up your mind
Waking up to the reality
Slowing down the pace
Of life, of yet another sanity
I’m suffocating
These men in suits and uniforms
They mutilate me
Not physically but mentally
My body aches
From mental wounds
From their insanity
They are killing me
Gradually
They are suffocating me
Slowly
They mutilate me
Reducing living cells
Of my lucidity
I reach the point
In my life
When questioning the “suits” and
“uniforms”
Makes no more sense
As they are senseless
They are still
Not physically but mentally
They hurt, they suffocate
Both physically and mentally
They say it’ll pass
But when and how
And will my body, mind and soul
Keep up the fight
The struggle
And find the strength
To see the light and day
When men in suits and uniforms no longer
there
To mutilate and suffocate
To let me go
To let us go
To live a life
No longer scared,
No longer hurt
But that’s a dream,
Too far from the reality
And as I wake up
And see reality
My body aches
Not physically but mentally
And once again
I start to lose my sanity
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