Razed but not forgotten – 32 year old rubble
Razed but not forgotten – 32 year old rubble
21.11.2008
By Marion Stuart
Until 1976 these piles of rubble in the south of Cyprus were houses, fifty-five of them, housing Turkish Cypriot families who worked mainly on the land and at the end of their days were then buried in the cemetery in the village. The families fled in 1974 to safety leaving the houses to be occupied by Greek Cypriot refugees from the north.
One of these refugees was ‘Costas’, who, together with his wife ‘Theodora’, moved in with their children. They were happy to be in a village which had been the home of Turkish Cypriots. This meant a lot to him as, in his former village a group of Greek Cypriots had come to take his life because of his political views, and he had been saved by Turkish Cypriots.
‘Costas’ is a man of strong opinions and when he was told to leave his ‘new’ home in the south - a village halfway between Larnaca and Limassol - he refused and stayed there with his ten children while all the other houses were razed to the ground, and the other Greek Cypriots rehoused. Many had new homes built for them outside the old village and are still there today.
‘Costas’ was saddened to see not only former homes destroyed but that the cemetery, which housed the remains of loved ones of earlier years, was also erased as all the village had disappeared into piles of rubble. These piles remain to this day as a reminder of unnecessary spiteful destruction, a fate suffered by many villages in the south, one of which, Yagmuralan, is fighting back. Last week the Cyprus Observer told how the people of Yagmuralan have gone to the European Court of Human Rights in an effort to make the point that it is not only the Greek Cypriots who have suffered losses. Unfortunately, for ‘Costa’s’ current village there is, at the moment, no one who will follow the lead taken by Yagmuralan.
The reason this village is not being named here is because ‘Costa’s’ life is always under threat following his love for Turkish Cypriots and all they have done for him.
‘Costas’ of course is not his real name, and it is only right and proper that he is protected as much as possible so that he can see out his days in the house that is his home.
Sad memories meet happy new life
Since the border opened, ‘Costas’ has met the original owner of the humble property in which he lives and they have become friends, as have others who lived in the village prior to 1974. One of these men, ‘Ahmet’ (another pseudonym), speaks of the days he lived there as a boy, when he witnessed an old man burnt to death in his bed, and another young boy shot for no reason other than hatred.
On a recent visit ‘Ahmet’ and ‘Costas’ shared tales of the 1950s, 60s and 70s when life in Cyprus seemed to be full of bloodshed and fear. ‘Costas’ told of how Turkish Cypriots in his old village hid him and his family, giving them food and shelter for 16 days in 1967. He had been working in the fields when he heard that men had come to kill all Makarios’ supporters, and he recalled that he banged his head against a tree in sheer despair as to what he could do.
‘Costas’ is now in his 80s, with his wife being a little younger, and he is proud of his ten children, 32 grandchildren and 7 great grandchildren. He is equally proud of the certificate he has on the wall of his home which tells of his service in the British Army in 1942, but he is not proud of what his fellow countrymen did to the village in 1976. His heart is so full of sadness at what was done that all his sympathy and support is for the Turkish Cypriots. This was clearly indicated as he went into his bedroom and produced an armful of shirts and trousers given to him by his generous children and grandchildren. With a gentle smile on his face and a warm tone in his voice, he gave them to ‘Ahmet’ saying “My children are too generous. I can only wear a few clothes. Please take them and give them to the poor people of your village. I would burn them before I gave them to the Greek Cypriots.” These gifts of clothing were accompanied by fresh figs taken from the few trees that ‘Costas’ tends on the land behind his home. For, in spite of his advancing years, his wiry frame is fit, kept so with hard work on the land and still doing a little building work which was his trade.
The piles of rubble which surround his home are a reminder to ‘Costas’ of unhappy days and of the needless destruction. They are also reminders of the lives of families now long gone. Whether any living members of those families will join those of Yagmuralan in protesting at the ECHR remains to be seen, but the presence of ‘Costas’ and his family in the area helps to preserve the memory of how Cypriots can work and live together in love and friendship.
Sadly, in the heart of ‘Costas’ there is little hope of any reconciliation, for the tears that almost flow as he talks of the good and kindness of Turkish Cypriots are also present as he shares his own personal feelings for the future as the piles of rubble that surround him indicate a destruction that can never be undone.