On September 6, Turkish-American human rights activist Ayşenur Ezgi Eygi was shot in the head by an Israel Defense Forces (IDF) sniper during a peaceful protest against illegal Israeli settlements in Beita, Nablus, in the West Bank. She was rushed to Rafidia Surgical Hospital in Nablus, where she was treated for severe head injuries, but died shortly after arriving.
Ayşenur was twenty-six years old when she was killed.
Raised in Seattle, Ayşenur attended the University of Washington, from which she had recently graduated with a major in psychology and a minor in Middle Eastern languages and cultures.
In the wake of her death, the UW School of Middle Eastern Languages and Cultures posted the following tribute:
All of Ayşenur’s teachers, mentors, friends, and community are devastated by news of her tragic death. Ayşenur was a bright light in our community of learning—a gentle, generous, and powerful spirit. We remember her profound, unwavering commitment to justice and her staunch belief in the power of peaceful protest. She was a student leader in the Popular University for Gaza Liberated Zone on the UW campus, raising her voice in solidarity with the people of Gaza. Her activism was anchored in values informed by her education in UW classrooms, namely the unqualified and universal human right to equality and dignity.
We offer our deepest sympathies to Ayşenur’s family and loved ones. We are exploring ways we can honor her legacy and memory, so that we and our students will always remember her name and her courage.
Two of Ayşenur’s classmates, with whom she collaborated on a project translating Turkish poems and songs into English, reached out to Lit Hub to share a remembrance of their slain friend. We’re proud to share that tribute, as well as their translations, below.
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As we sat down to write this note to Ayșenur we started to think of all the memories we shared: laughing on the phone, talking together in class, and swapping stories. We remember the enthusiasm of graduation being right around the corner. We remember walking across that stage, our faces full of excitement about our accomplishments with a hint of nervousness for the future. We remember hugging and telling each other “We did it! See you soon.” We did not know there would be no “soon” and that that would be the last time we would see each other.
While we were working on this translation project, Ayșenur was our glue. She was not afraid to take the initiative, and offer up unique and fresh ideas when everything felt stale. Her kindness was embedded in every part of the project and group communication. She would always check in on us—whether about the project or just to see how we were doing—providing emotional support when we needed it most. We could not have asked for a better teammate. She was the heart of our writing, and her influence will stay with us long after its completion. She cared so deeply: about people, education, the world—everything.
Ayșenur was a classmate, friend, and hero to many. She was always dedicated to her work, to learning, and to the people in her community. The world lost a sweet soul and an extraordinarily intelligent woman that day. You will be missed more than words can express.
Ayșenur, we forever thank you for your infectious energy and desire to tell the stories of those some see as invisible. Thank you for your dedication to the people of Palestine.
To writing together in another life,
Burcu & Beyza
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“Gurbet” by Özdemir Erdoğan
Translated by Burcu
To whom should I tell my sorrow to, clouds?
Those we called our friends hurt us deeply
And there is a homesickness which hurts deeper than all
Tell me, is there news from my homeland?
Or is this rain the tears of my beloved?
I am burning inside, my wound is deep
Bring me news from my delicate beloved,
please
Clouds, say hello to my love
Tell her that the day of our reunion is near
If fate has has separated us
What can I do alone in this foreign land?
Tell me, is it possible to live this far from my
beloved?
I am burning inside, my wound is deep
Bring me news from my delicate beloved,
please
“İstanbul’da Sonbahar” by Teoman
Translated by Beyza
The seasonal winds
Whenever they blow
That’s when I remember
My childhood dreams My devil kites
My mother kisses me
On my cheeks
In a beautiful dream
It’s like the things I loved
Are still alive
If the rain lessens when night falls
Maiden’s Tower and Islands
Ah, if you were here, it’s still beautiful
Autumn in Istanbul
It’s not easy all the time
To make love without being loved
To know a body
To slowly learn
To get used to and to lose
Istanbul is tired today
She’s sad and has become old
She’s gained a bit of weight
She’s cried anew
Her mascara is flowing
“Yalan Dünya” by Neşet Ertaş
Translated by Ayşenur Ezgi Eygi
Did you always cry, did you always burn?
I couldn’t smile; in this deceitful world
Did you think you made me happy as I
wished?
In a world that stole my life for nothing
Ah, this deceitful world, this deceitful world
In a world that smiles at me with deceit
You cried, my dear, and I burned
I thought the world would be as I wished
I was deceived in vain, I was fooled in vain
In a world where its color faded from my eyes
Ah, this deceitful world, this deceitful world
In a world that smiles at me with deceit
I know, my love, you had no fault
My feelings towards you were indeed too
strong
Fate became a cloud, and it poured down on
me
Tears filled my eyes in this world
Fate became a cloud, and it poured down on me
Tears filled my eyes in this world
Ah, this deceitful world, this deceitful world
In a world that smiles at me with deceit
