Der Hevrîn Xelef Heilkräutergarten
In 2015, a network of diverse supporters emerged in Berlin, united by a shared commitment to the rights of refugee women* and children. Over several years, the activists ran a self-organised housing project for single pregnant refugees. Here, babies were able to be born in a calm and protected environment – far removed from overcrowded and precarious accommodation.
At the same time, the activists trained in asylum and immigration law through a Refugee Law Clinic, and have since provided weekly, intensive and free legal advice in rotating constellations. Yet within the cramped office spaces and in the absence of state support – and therefore also of professional care structures – it gradually became clear that something essential was missing: access to healing.
The legal status of many women* is insecure. Traumatic experiences from their countries of origin, from war and displacement, accompany them – often present in every breath they take.
In conversations with the women*, it became evident that almost all of them had been prescribed strong antidepressants and painkillers – frequently without fully understanding what they were taking. There was little to no explanation of side effects, nor access to alternative forms of treatment or therapeutic support.
What might a place look like where healing could, at least temporarily, become possible – a place where women* can breathe freely?
What is needed is a protected space with access to nature, a place where plants and their healing properties are present: a medicinal herb garden.
Since the establishment of the Hevrîn Xelef Community Garden, the projects and the site have developed organically. The focus has remained on responding to the needs of refugee women*. It soon became clear how essential – and at the same time how rare – spaces are where grief can be given room.
There is a need for a space in which loss can be acknowledged and mourned: the loss of home, of a secure future, of family members – as well as experiences of violence and the feeling of being left alone with pain and memory.
Step by step, the garden developed into a place of remembrance. A first deliberate act took place shortly before its inauguration in October 2019, when the garden was named after the murdered Kurdish politician Hevrîn Xelef from northern Syria. It commemorates a woman who fought for the rights of women* and minorities – and was killed in an ambush because of it.
For many people fleeing war and violence, death is ever-present. In the garden, this presence is further intensified by its very location: it is situated on the grounds of a former cemetery.
Yet here, death does not appear in the form of cold memorial stones, but in a living way – through plants and trees planted in ceremonial rituals. In 2022, the Kurdish woman Jina Amini was killed in Iran. Her death sparks a wave of protests – the Kurdish cry for freedom, “Jin, Jiyan, Azadî” (Woman, Life, Freedom), connects activists around the world.
At the centre of the garden, a black mulberry tree is planted in memory of Jina Amini. On the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women*, mourners gather to place the earth around the tree with their own hands. The singer Hani Mojtahedy performs a song, inspiring other Kurdish and Iranian musicians to sing at this site.
Gradually, more trees are planted, and a medicinal herb pharmacy begins to emerge in and around the garden. Volunteer doctors share their knowledge, people garden, grieve, and sing. Feminist groups gather here to exchange, and to continue.
Yet here we do not encounter it in the form of cold memorial stones, but in living form – in plants and trees that were planted as part of ceremonial rituals.
