Women for justice
A Tree for Remembrance, a Tree for the Future
There are stories that take your breath away. Stories for which words are never quite enough, because the suffering they describe is almost impossible to comprehend. For me, this project is one of those stories.
In August 2014, a genocide against the Yazidi religious community took place in the Sinjar Mountains in northern Iraq. It was not the first genocide this community had suffered in its history—but the atrocities committed by the so-called Islamic State (Daesh) at that time rank among the worst crimes of our time.
Men and elderly women were murdered. Boys were abducted and indoctrinated. Hundreds of women and girls were enslaved, sold, and deprived of their freedom. To this day, people are still listed as missing. Entire villages were wiped out, cultural sites destroyed, and even nature was not spared from the violence.
My connection to “Women for Justice” dates back to 2015. At that time, we founded Flamingo e.V. as a network for refugee women and children. Our goal was to provide a platform for dedicated activists so they could act quickly, even if they did not yet have their own organizational structures.
In this way, Flamingo was able to support the courageous women—who initially called themselves the “Platform for Abducted Yazidi Women”—with the organizational structure we had established.
It was here that I met Dr. Leyla Ferman, the founder of the organization. She traveled to Iraq time and again to meet with survivors of captivity and document their accounts.
This documentation is invaluable, as it lays the groundwork for the crimes to one day be addressed through the legal system and for the perpetrators to be held accountable.
In the village of Koço, Najlaa Matto—a woman who was freed from captivity—tells me that all the women and children were abducted by ISIS. And all the men, except for three who survived by sheer luck, were killed. To this day, there is no trace of many of them.
Najlaa takes the stage, tells her story, and advocates for visibility and justice with a quiet yet powerful strength.
The second village, Sîba, also symbolizes the courage and resistance of the people who tried to help others escape—often knowing that they themselves would pay for this effort with their lives.
The women of “Women for Justice” are fighting from Germany with tireless dedication for justice, remembrance, and the reconstruction of the Yazidi regions, and have established the
Projects that, through the planting of memorial trees, preserve stories of violence and resistance, with the aim of preventing those who were murdered and deported from being forgotten. Projects that promote ecological balance and demonstrate a significant act of solidarity, as connecting with and working in nature can help survivors process their trauma.
The planting of memorial trees holds special significance.
Every tree planted commemorates the dead, those who were deported, and those who remain missing to this day. At the same time, it breathes new life into the devastated landscape. For the genocide was not directed solely against people; it also struck at their homes, their culture, and their natural environment.
New life shall grow once more from the devastated earth.
Its roots reach deep into the earth—to the place where stories are preserved. Its branches reach toward the light—to the place where hope begins.
Where devastation once reigned, shade-giving trees shall grow once more.
Where pain remains, hope may take root.
Perhaps that is precisely the greatest response to violence:
that life returns.
A tree for Koço.
A tree for Sîba.
So that memory does not fade.
And so that the future can grow.