I was born in 2000 in Erbil, in the Kurdistan region. A place with mountains as our only true friends. We have been opposed since our existence, but because of resistance and struggle, because of the spirit of the Peshmerga, we have never surrendered. War and loss have followed us for generations, yet today Kurdistan stands, with its nature, its people, its culture. It is a place known for tourism, for rich resources, and for open, hospitable hearts. I can’t fully describe it here. The dream of Kurdistan as a state lives in all of us, and the beauty of this land and water is beyond what words can hold, even if I wrote until my last breath.
My family comes from Akre. That city, its scenery, its water, figs, music, and culture, they run in me. I am proud of this origin. My family carried patriotism as action, not just words, and they lived in service of the land and the people. Preserving culture, language, and art became part of who we are. One piece of our pride is Akre’s archive, because my family were among the first to bring cameras into Kurdistan. That act was more than just a tool, it was a way of keeping memory alive.
I grew up with these responsibilities surrounding me. At the same time, I found myself pulled into technology. It became my world. But my way of thinking didn’t fit its strict logic. Computers deal with 0 and 1, but I leaned to 0.5. I always searched for the middle space, the balance, the half-step that others ignored.
When I was five, my father bought me my first computer. I started with games. But even then, the pull was strong. That small machine lit a path for me. Technology became more than entertainment, it became a way to build something meaningful, something that could serve my people and humanity.