plaintiffs' movement; Saturday mothers

Saturday mothers are a group of women that was formed in 1995 at the invitation of Amine Ojak. Amina, who spent 55 days searching for her son, Hassan Ojak, finally found his tortured body in the cemetery of unidentified people. These women gathered every Saturday afternoon for half an hour in Galatasaray Square, Turkey. This gathering is a protest against forced disappearances and political murders in Turkey during the military coup of the 80s and 90s. Since 2019, gathering of these women in Galatasaray has been banned for “security” reasons.

The song “My mother is Saturday” by the band “Bandista” has become one of the symbols of these demanding mothers in the music field. In this song, the narrator sings to his mother about the days of the week. A mother who is a normal mother from Sunday to Friday but gets yelled at on Saturdays. A voice that searches for its lost child everywhere. A mother who, along with other mothers, regardless of geography, language and culture, is a petitioner for a child.

This narrative encourages the audience to search and accompany. Because the path of the child of “My mother is Saturday” is not separate from the mothers of Mayo Square, Ramallah, Gaza and Italy. Wherever a government has oppressed a child, mothers gather. The full text of the song “My mother is Saturday”:

My mother does not wake up her child on Sundays

My mother has tea leaves in the teapot on Mondays

My mother is on a mourning or wedding tour on Tuesdays

My mother is on Wednesday, if you haven’t seen her, don’t be fooled

My mother is Thursday, she knows what torture is

On Fridays, my mother goes to all the hidden corners

My mother is Saturday, and she screams in every language

My mother is Saturday, a faded image in her hands

My mother is Saturday, her anger is suing

Find me at the bottom of a well

Find me, naked on the beach

On the torture boat, conscious from the electric shock

Lost in a barracks

Mother, on the side of the street

Nameless, voiceless, on an empty grave

Find me, under the stone that says “We have lost the absent.”

Mother, find me among Argentine mothers

In Mayo Square

Mother, find me in Galatasaray Square

Among the mothers of Ramallah

The mothers of Gaza

Find us in the ghettos of Warsaw, mother

In the eyes of Nicola and Bart’s mothers

find my mother

find me

Find me in the street, mother, when my companions are still shouting

Mother, find me, find me, in a morning

In the eyes of a man who sings “one morning”

Among the words of women who read Quran

Help me mother, in the eyes of Ahmad Kaya

find me mother

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