Translation for BabelFAmily: Caroline Williamson and Emrecan Özeler

I was born in Eregli, Konya, on 5 August 1973. I suffer from Friedreich’s ataxia. I'm the first born child of my family. I also have a brother and a sister.
I attended Süme Elementary School in Eregli for three years. We then moved to Etimesgut, Ankara, due to my father's work. In 1988 I attended the private Yükselis Middle School (I was there for four years, including prep year). I graduated from Aktas Vocational High School in 1991, going on to gain a place at the Industrial Electronics Department of the Trade Academy of Selçuk University in 1993.
During our time in Etimesgut, we lived in a shanty. We shared one bathroom, which was in the only bedroom. The front door opened directly onto the kitchen and sitting area, and in this single living room we, the three children of the family, would sleep. Our toilet was outside the house. We lived there for seven years. We were living in the shanty when I went to Yükselis College. My classmates were all children of rich, stylish and sophisticated people. I'm ashamed now to accept the fact that in those days, I felt embarrassed by our house: my father being a villager, my mother wearing a headscarf... I was a naive boy; I thought the world would never end. As if the old would stay old and the children would stay young for eternity. No one is immortal in this cruel world.

One day at the school, our art teacher told us to draw our houses' layouts. I drew a friend's house. I understood much later that good morals make human beings valuable - not the house you own, whether you are a villager or wear a headscarf.

Now we live in an apartment. We don't have a garden; we don't have apricot or plum trees. The sincere neighbours from our days in the shanty district are so hard to find nowadays. There are no shanties in Etimesgut. There are tall buildings everywhere… apartment blocks. May God save us all!

My illness showed itself while I was a senior student at college. I started swaying while walking. After that came the spasms and speaking difficulties. In fact, I was aware of these problems but I thought they would end some day and I told no one about them. I had felt a lack of balance since I was a kid. I would take several straight steps, and then would sway a little. I could never walk while my eyes were closed. I could maintain my balance while running fast, but would get tired very soon. I thought everyone was like me. But then I realized that everyone could walk on a straight line without swaying. I never rebelled, I dreamt every night. I kept my hopes up.

I fell in love with a girl when I was 15. That summer, we had gone to the house in the village on vacation. She was a distant cousin. She also came to the village from Iskenderun on holiday. I was dreaming about walking in a straight line and carrying a cup of tea without spilling any. I’m perfectly serious! My dream wasn't a car or anything like that. All I wanted was to be with the girl I loved; holding her, feeling confident of my power and feeling her adoring eyes on me while in public...

We used to go to the village cafe with my cousins in the summer evenings. Since there were no street lights in the village, the roads would be pitch-dark. I started to sway more while walking. My cousins used to ask me, “Are you drunk? Why are you walking this way?” I would ignore their questions, start singing loudly and hold on to one of them for support.

The girl I loved and I used to write letters to each other while I was in college. It was so nice to write a letter and wait for a response. One day I received a letter. She told me that she wanted to break up with me in order to study without me distracting her, but that she would never forget me. She didn't answer any of my calls for days. I was devastated. I started smoking. Sleepless nights followed. I thought the reason she wanted to break up with me was  my unbalanced walking. Once we went to Iskenderun from Konya and walked hand in hand at the seaside. I believed it was the most beautiful city then: just because she lived there. I couldn’t stop myself missing her, even if she was sitting right in front of me in some cafe on the coast, drinking tea. I now understand that the love in me was divine. But the love I felt for her was just a rehearsal for me. I haven't seen that girl for 15 years. She's become a teacher. She's married and has a son. I wish her happiness.

After that distressful period, my illness got worse. I could only walk by using someone - or the wall – for support, and I was walking like somebody who was drunk. I was heavily depressed. My exams at school, finding a job, military service, marriage, heartbreaks and all that stress led to my illness.

I was admitted to hospital when I was 19. After a series of tests, they told me the name of my illness: “Spinocerebellar degeneration”. I stayed at SSK Diskapi Hospital for a month. I could take care of myself, so my father didn't stay with me at night. One day, the doctor came to me and said, “You will never get better. Your illness will only get worse. These are your best days. You may be permanently bedridden.” I was so young. I pulled the blanket over my head and cried all night. My father came and lifted the blanket in the morning and saw my red eyes. “The patient has a right to know,” the doctor told my father. My tears weren't any rebellion against God; I was just so young and feeling sorry for myself. I thought I would be sick forever.

I checked out of the hospital and was called for military service. My biggest dream was to serve my country as a commando. I was examined at the military hospital and the doctors decided that my condition made me unfit for military service. I was getting up early at the military hospital. I felt like I somehow did my service by eating a soldier's meal every evening.

SSK Hospital gave my father a report which made it clear that I was his responsibility from then on. My father didn't accept this and we applied to the Employment Office. They sent us to the hospital in order to get a disablement report. The hospital gave a report which stated that I was 40% disabled and could work in light duty jobs. They didn't ask me my profession. I registered with the Employment Office and stated I would only work in government facilities. A couple of weeks later, while out walking with my father, we passed by the Employment Office. My father suggested I add private companies to my list of possible employers. We went inside and told them we would like to add private companies also. The clerk asked me if I had a profession or not. “I'm an electrician,” I told him. “Okay,” he said. “There's a company named Karel. We had already sent them several disabled workers. They weren't satisfied, so they sent them all back. Would you try?”

The address was in Çankaya. But we lived in Sincan. We moved to an apartment in Sincan in 1989 because all of us children were growing up fast. Çankaya was 40 kilometres away. We went to Karel. The officer liked me and told me, “This is the head office. The factory and Research & Development department are in Sincan. Go to the factory in Sincan tomorrow and talk to them.” I felt lots of different things when I went to the factory. First, I took an electronics test, and then we talked about my illness. I told them I could speak English well at the end of the meeting. After this remark, they wanted me to talk to the boss. He asked me to read a page from a technical book and translate it. I did, and since they liked my performance, they asked me to come again the next morning. An engineer had left the R&D Department and they thought I could fill his place. I started working at the R&D Department. God bless them. I graduated from college but it took two more years for me to learn the job and get experienced.

I understood later that God loved me and this was my destiny. There was a reason I had learnt English. God knows everything; and there is a reason for everything that God does. I was working as an engineer and my house was only six kilometres away from my work. Thank God.

I started working at Karel in 1994. In the first few years, I could walk and go to work even if I did walk like someone who was drunk. My father continued his drilling job in various cities in Turkey. He was only able to come home for a few days each month. Work life was very stressful. I had no one to share my work-related stress with, and  depressions caused by illness and loneliness made my condition worse. I started to use a wheelchair in 1998. The first few years were so hard. I didn't know how my parents coped; maybe they talked and shared their thoughts at nights. I was so depressed; I seemed to have no one around me. My sister was a high school student by then and she was preparing for college exams. She loved me a lot and felt really sorry for me. “I would have no problem with failing the test if only my brother got better,” she told mum one day. God must be so content with her. She's been a teacher for four years now.

My illness got worse each day. My father bought a second-hand car. He would take me to work and help me to sit behind my desk every day and after that, he would go to his work at Etimesgut Sugar Factory. In the evenings he would come and take me back home. My father's boss was an understanding man, he knew my situation and he didn't have any problem with him doing this. But my father wasn't happy because he couldn't go out of the city and do his job properly because of me. He continued to work for three more years and then retired. In the summer of the same year, my brother got married. A year later, my beloved niece Irem was born.

Deep in my heart, I always felt God was with me, all the way. I couldn't overcome my depression and start asking questions about life and worldly beings. We would fast throughout the month of Ramadan, but we did it as a cultural habit. I even attended Friday prayers with some of my friends when I was in college. But thank God, I never rebelled for not being able to walk.

It was September, 2002. I got an email during a stressful work morning. There were some questions in it, and it said that the answers could be found in the Quran. “What is the purpose of life? Where do people go when they die? Who goes to heaven or hell, how? The worthlessness of worldly life, how can one start their life over with a simple repentance?” and so on. There was a week until Ramadan. I decided to repent and start reading the Quran. I had already quit smoking in August, 2002. I fasted only for God's consent during Ramadan. Thank God, God showed me the way of Islam. I finished reading the Quran in less than seven months; the Turkish translation of the Quran, yes. Every evening after I got home, I would read several verses and start thinking about them and applying them to my life. For example, after I read the verse about faithful men protecting their eyes from that which is forbidden, I decided to avert my eyes from any nakedness I see on TV or outside home and change the channel. I liked watching movies and most of them had obscene scenes in them. When I was watching them with my family, I started to close my eyes during those scenes and I could still understand the film.

May God bless my parents and grant them both long lives. They tried very hard to make me feel less disabled. If anyone asks me who I think are closest to heaven, I will say their names without missing a beat. Taking me to the toilet, helping me to put my clothes on, helping me to take a bath, taking me to work and back home every day are only a few of the things my father does for me. I didn't choose them when I was born but I feel thankful that I have them and I pray for my family. I know they're worried about me and they wonder what will happen to me after they're gone. We will see… God is great.

I decided to perform the Namaz five times a day in 2005. I had a problem with ablution before prayers. My father couldn't take me to the bathroom every day because of my weight. Our neighbour, who is a theology teacher, taught me how to ablute without water. I perform the Namaz on my wheelchair or at the place I sit. I started to perform more excitedly, even in tears at times. As I mentioned before, this world is mortal and we are sent to it in order to know and love God and to be a loving servant to God. God is so merciful that God sent a prophet and the Quran to guide us. I believe with all my heart that God made me ill because God loved me and God gave me a chance to find my path with my own will. And I'm sure God will heal me some day. God tested my patience with illness, will continue to test me, and after I'm healed, my will shall be put to test. Isn't the world a place for tests? Why not?

I have told the milestones of my 34 years. I skipped a lot of details and events. I owe so much, to so many of my friends and my family. May God bless you and grant you a thousand fold of your good deeds and helps to me. Please give me your blessings.