The Last Girl, an autobiographical narrative by Nadia Murad, recounts her experience surviving enslavement and sexual violence by the Islamic State in 2014. Originally from Kocho, a Yazidi village in the Sinjar district of northern Iraq, Murad and the other women of her town were rounded up and captured, after ISIS solders murdered six of her brothers. She describes in graphic detail her life as a sabiyya, a prisoner of war who is forced into sexual slavery and exploitation. The Last Girl is a story of survival, but above all else, it’s a call to action.
Murad now lives in Germany and tells her story as an advocate for survivors of genocide and sexual violence. For this post, I’d like to primarily highlight some excerpts from the text to hopefully further Murad’s initiative in some small way. If this post means that she has to tell her story one less time to evoke change, then it’s fulfilled its purpose.
The first section of the novel describes her childhood growing up with her family in Kocho. The Yazidi community is a minority group, indigenous to Syria, Iraq and Turkey. She describes her community’s religion as:
“Yazidism is an ancient monotheistic religion, spread orally by holy men entrusted with our stories. Although it has elements in common with many religions of the Middle East, from Mithraism and Zoroastrianism to Islam and Judaism, it is truly unique and can be difficult even for holy men who memorize our stories to explain. I think of my religion as being an ancient tree with thousands of rings, each telling a story in the long history of Yazidis. Many of those stories, sadly, are tragedies.”
In the second section of the novel, Murad portrays the sexual violence and abuse she endured in captivity. Many of the scenes are horrific and incredibly difficult to read. Yet, one of the most infuriating aspects of her captivity was the passivity and even support of the general public. In several scenes, Murad is shocked that other women condone her enslavement and support the androcentric IS regime.
“Everyone thinks Yazidi women are weak, because we are poor and live outside the cities, and I have heard people say female fighters with ISIS are, in their own way, proving their strength among men. But none of them—not Morteja’s mother, not even a suicide bomber—was a fraction as strong as my mother, who overcame so many struggles and who never would have let another woman be sold into slavery, no matter her religion.”
The third and final section recounts her escape and mission to support her community. In 2018, Murad won the Nobel Peace Prize for her dedication to ending sexual violence during wartime. Much of the Yazidi community has been displaced since the 2014 genocide, and many are still missing and being held captive. Murad hopes to one day return with her community to the Sinjar region.
“Being forced to leave your home out of fear is one of the worst injustices a human being can face. Everything you love is stolen, and you risk your life to live in a place that meaning nothing to you and where, because you come from a country now known for war and terrorism, you are not really wanted. So you spend the rest of your years longing for what you left behind while praying not to be deported.”
What can you do?
Get Involved
Six years after the genocide in Sinjar, IS militants are finally being investigated and standing trial for crimes against the Yazidi community abroad. In Iraq, however, the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic has exacerbated the mental health and living conditions in the IDP Camps.
Nadia’s Initiative supports communities in crisis and advocates for resources and policy changes to secure justice for and rebuild these communities. Yazda is a project-driven organization that supports Yazidis and other vulnerable groups.
Stay Educated
“Yazidism should be taught in schools from Iraq to the United States, so that people understood the value of preserving an ancient religion and protecting the people who follow it, no matter how small the community.”
A friend from Bulgaria gave me the red and white thread bracelet, a Martenitsa, seen in the above photo, for Baba Marta Day, a Bulgarian holiday celebrated on March 1st. Wearers remove and tie the bracelet to a tree when they see a stork or the first blooming tree, celebrating rebirth, new beginnings and the coming of spring. These red and white bracelets are also common in the Yazidi community and are made on the third day of the Batzmi Festival. I now wear my Martenitsa to start a potential conversation and show solidarity in some small way with the Yazidi community. Martenitsas are removed when the wearer recognizes a new beginning, so I’ll continue to wear it until that day comes for the Yazidi community.
Stats
Title: The Last Girl: My Story of Captivity, and My Fight Against the Islamic State
Author: Nadia Murad
Publication Year: 2017
Pages: 307