The Journey of a Woman from Serekaniye: Between Detention, Displacement, and
Najla Suleiman, a Syrian refugee from Ras al-Ain/Serekaniye (now under Turkish occupation), has endured detention, displacement, and deep psychological suffering. She calls for a safe return—one that is conditional upon the withdrawal of the Turkish.

Sorkel Sheikho
Zarkan — Women’s stories never end, especially during times of war and crisis. Each woman stands as a voice of resistance, capable of raising countless cases against the Turkish occupation and the crimes and violations it has committed—demanding fair trials and true justice.
Najla Suleiman, a 26-year-old woman from the village of Bab al-Khair near the city of Ras al-Ain/Serekaniye—now occupied by Turkey and its mercenaries—chose, driven by her patriotic spirit, to be part of the revolution and to actively participate in defending her people’s cause. For the past two years, she has worked in traffic control in the city of Zarkan, in the Jazira region.
Najla Suleiman Tells Her Story of Suffering
Najla and her family were forced to flee their village due to attacks by the Turkish occupation and its armed groups. They left their land and homes behind, beginning a new chapter of challenges, carrying only their determination and sense of belonging.
She said, “I had to leave my home with whatever I could carry. The Turkish occupation burned our house, looted everything, and destroyed what remained.”
With no houses available for rent, Najla’s family was forced to live in schools for an entire year under harsh conditions. During that time, her cousin proposed to her, and her father accepted the marriage, seeing it as a “gift” in the face of the difficult circumstances imposed by war and displacement.
The wedding took place under extraordinary conditions—no traditional dress, no guests, no home to move into—reflecting the harsh reality of life under war and forced migration. Just 28 days after her wedding, Najla had to travel to Turkey because of ongoing attacks in her region. There, she worked as a saleswoman in a shop, trying to adapt to the new reality imposed by war.
However, it didn’t take long before she faced direct danger again. One day, three armed Turkish police officers stormed the house where she was staying, reviving the same scenes of violence and intimidation she thought she had left behind.
She was taken to Izmir Prison, where she spent three days without seeing daylight. On the last night, at midnight, her trial session began, and the judge eventually declared her innocent.
Najla filed a lawsuit against a member of the Turkish National Intelligence Organization (MIT) for submitting a false report against her. However, the agency responded that the case would be closed for lack of evidence. As a result, she was detained again and forced to sign documents written in Turkish—a language she could not understand.
She said, “I had no idea what was written in those papers. They placed me in strange facilities, which I later discovered were detention centers for foreigners in Izmir. The room was so cramped that even children could barely live there.”
After a long period of waiting—torn between returning to Syria or remaining in these facilities until she gave birth and joined her husband—Najla finally decided to return to Syria.
But when she reached Amed (Diyarbakir), she was shocked to learn that her name was listed as a terrorist. She said with sorrow, “I could neither return to Syria nor go back to my husband’s home in Turkey.”
She was detained again, and during her imprisonment she developed severe psychological distress. The authorities referred her to a psychiatrist, who confirmed that her mental health had severely deteriorated. Based on that report, Turkish authorities released her. She was then deported to Syria through the Bab al-Hawa border crossing in Idlib, thus closing a painful chapter of detention and suffering.
Najla criticized the violations committed in Turkish prisons, describing them as crimes against humanity. “How can they exert such pressure on a simple woman working as a saleswoman, then fabricate terrorism charges against her?”
She realized she could never have imagined being uprooted from her land so brutally, nor that displacement would last this long. Six years have passed since she left the place of her birth, her childhood memories. Returning home is no longer just a wish—it has become a dream shared by every woman, every child, and every elder.
Between Pain and Hope — A Struggle for Safe Return
Najla Suleiman called for the implementation of the March 10 Agreement, which guarantees the right of refugees to return to their homes—on the condition that the occupied areas return to the control of the Autonomous Administration. She emphasized that Turkish-backed mercenaries must withdraw from the towns and villages they occupy to ensure a safe and stable return for the original residents.
She said, “Our return depends on the withdrawal of the Turkish occupation. If they don’t withdraw, there can be no safe return. We cannot go back to Serekaniye while those who displaced us are still there, building settlements on the ruins of our cities.”
Najla added, “Life under Turkish-backed mercenaries lacks dignity. Returning under their rule would mean selling our souls for money. As long as there is a single Turkish soldier in Serekaniye, I will not return.”
She explained that “women’s freedom is being crushed, their dignity violated, and even their most basic bodily rights are denied. They are subjected to harsh restrictions and forced marriages imposed by Turkish-backed mercenaries who interfere in the smallest details of their lives.”
“They practice terrorism under the guise of Islam,” she added. “If they truly understood the essence of Islam, they would never build military bases over the graves of our martyrs.”
Najla concluded by saying that the mercenaries spread across Serekaniye and other parts of Syria are directly linked to the Turkish occupation. They reinforce policies that marginalize women and undermine community security—policies similar to those practiced by the jihadists of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham—reflecting a deliberate strategy to exclude women and dismantle the social fabric in occupied regions.