Genocides of azerbaijanis

Bearing Witness


Palm to palm, we sat and listened as her mother spoke, bearing witness to a narrative both familiar and new. A young woman, woken from her home in the middle of the night, forced to march through the icy woods with no idea where she was going. Wandering into a terrifying darkness with no end in sight. Pummeled by bullets, ripped apart from her family, forced to play dead.