“Melek Çetinkaya, a well-known figure in Turkey, is not just a mother but also a human rights activist who, in the face of the grave accusation of her son Furkan Çetinkaya, who was arrested and sentenced to life imprisonment following a coup attempt, has taken to the streets and engaged in social media campaigns to announce the innocence of 355 military cadets incarcerated on this heavy charge.
“I will never stop until all my children are released.”
Melek Çetinkaya has been a passionate human rights advocate, conducting one-person street protests and marches, standing up for numerous victims, from Kara Efe to Ayşe Özdoğan and the Furkan Foundation, in addition to her support for military students. Even after her son’s release, she made it clear by stating, “I will never stop until all my children are released,” that her commitment to defending rights remained unwavering.
With banners reading “We demand justice for military students,” “Students are not coup plotters,” and “Military students are innocent,” she became a symbol of defiance against the legal system where students received life sentences while their commanders were acquitted.
Arrested in Ankara and transferred to Istanbul within the scope of an investigation on charges of “promoting crime and criminals through the press” and “making propaganda for a terrorist organization,” Melek Çetinkaya was subsequently imprisoned by the Küçükçekmece Peace Criminal Judgeship.
Gifted a bandana with her son’s name by Harbiyeli Sena Öğütalan, another detainee in Bakırköy Prison, and the gown she wore during street protests, she was one of the interviewees at the social genocide exhibition this week in an interview conducted with Advocates of Silenced Turkey on October 11, 2023, where she said the following:
“My body is in Germany, but my mind is in Bakırköy and Silivri prisons.”
“You have known me for 3.5 years, but after my children were arrested, we used to hold weekly demonstrations with the mothers of military students. However, we couldn’t get our voices heard because we didn’t use social media. We routinely visited members of parliament every week, gathered at the Air Force Academy. After a year, the indictment was prepared, and we saw that it was almost declaring the innocence of our children. We thought the children would be released, but the opposite happened. I held my first street protest with Cemal Abi. I was detained as soon as we unveiled the banner. Some families opposed our open struggle, while others supported it, saying that we were harming our children.
“I don’t believe anyone I know from the movement is a terrorist.”
Before entering prison, I received death threats. I announced on Twitter that I would appear on any channel, and I was invited to Akit TV. I said, “I must go and tell the innocence of the children,” but Fatin Dağıstanlı didn’t let me speak and persistently asked me whether I believed the movement was a terrorist organization, to which I firmly replied, “I don’t believe anyone I know from the movement is a terrorist.”
“On such an honorable path, I wish we could sacrifice ourselves… We must not give up what we know is right. I am sacrificing myself. I am the one sacrificing myself on such an honorable path.”
The only things I heard when I first entered prison were the sound of cars passing by on the highway and the sky. I said, “Freedom is so precious.” I stayed in prison for two months and got out. I considered leaving the country. When I asked why some friends didn’t have Twitter accounts, some said they had family in Turkey. I wish we could sacrifice ourselves on such an honorable path. We must not give up what we know is right. I am sacrificing myself; I am the one sacrificing myself on such an honorable path. Everyone says, “You’re my family, my daughter, my father.” If they hadn’t, I wish they hadn’t. This process has been going on for 7.5 years. If you don’t burn, how can darkness turn to light? Everyone is waiting for someone to do something; we must all put our hands under the stone.
“We should ask ourselves, what does a mother with a baby inside the prison expect from me? If we went to the ECHR and could express ourselves without leaving its front.”
We should ask ourselves, what does a mother with a baby inside the prison expect from me? In Germany, where I live, I wish I could learn this language, visit all countries and cities as if it were my mother tongue, and say that 355 of my children are in prison, shouting their innocence. If we went to the ECHR and could express ourselves without leaving its front.
“All of them are Turkey’s brainpower, sharp as a knife; they have made their way in different fields abroad. Some have achieved great success. The country has lost. They have found their way and are building their lives.”
The bandana sent to the Genocide Exhibition by detained airforce cadet Sena Öğütalan means so much to me; it narrates the meeting of a 20-year-old girl detained for advocating for their rights and a mother in the same prison. The gown I wore became the voice of a woman asking, “What can I do for my 355 detained children?” My son’s name is the dream of military school. He spent six years in prison and is now building a different life. All of them are Turkey’s brainpower, sharp as a knife; they have made their way in different fields abroad. Some have achieved great success. The country has lost. They have found their way and are building their lives, continuing to do so. I still call out to the young people still in prison: you will all be free and achieve great things. Never lose hope.”
