Annik Keshishian
Annik Keshishian
(An offspring of Armenian Genocide survivors, who narrowly escaped death during the tragedy, has spoken of her family’s story of exile and return to Turkey)
The story, which she shared with the Turkish-Armenian publication Agos, is presented below:
“My name is Annik Keshishian. I was born in 1919 in central Civas [city in Turkey’s center]. I finished five years of school and later attended an art center for ladies.
“My mother, Akabi Terzian, struggled a lot for my education. She went to the province governor and said, ‘My daughter must receive education’.
“My mother spoke a very beautiful Armenian. She had learned dress-making at a studio. She,her brothers and sisters had gone to an Armenian school. But my younger sister and brother, Vardanush and Manuk, didn’t learn Armenian as the schools had closed down. My younger uncle and my aunt went to an American college in 1915. The children at the college’s orphanage were taken away during the massacre. My uncle Manuk, who was nine then, was lost, and my aunt Vardanush reached Greece and left for America from there.
My Aunt, Vardanush
“When we came to Istanbul in 1948, I wanted to learn Armenian. I expressed my desire to Mr. Poghos Bazezyan, and he helped me. I did everything then to find my relatives, uncle and aunt, who had got lost. After long searches, I finally found my aunt Vardanush in America, 33 years later. I wrote her a letter in Turkish. She kept the letter for two years as she hadn’t found anyone reading Turkish and didn’t understand what it said. Later, I wrote a letter in Armenian, which I had just learned. The came in no time. My aunt died in America, so I never met her.
My mom, Akabi Kyureghyan
“My mother, Akabi Kyuregyan, was one of the six children. In 1915, my two aunts, Vahagn and Harutyun, owned a restaurant. They would describe my mom as a ‘a cook by day and a professor at night’. They escaped during the massacre to reach America. My mother would always say, ‘There is no flying from fate. They escaped death to die here.’
Wedding dress hanging on wall
“In 1915, my mother was an engaged orphan girl. She and her younger sister, Aghavni, raised the brothers. Waiting for her wedding with her lacy dress hanging on the wall, my mom was sent into exile with her fiancé and the latter’s sister, who later became a sister-in-law.
“Upon being marched into exile, my mom took her diplomas with her and kept them with her passport. Her fiancé mocked her then. And my mother came to realize they weren’t going to a good place.
“After crossing a long way with the fiancés, the males were isolated, but the women walked on. The men who went away never returned.
“My mom and my aunt Flaure, who had her baby in arms, continued the way. Her sister-in-law said later she cannot walk. They left her on the way and threw the child into the river. My father would ask sometimes, “What happened to Flore?” But my mom never gave him an answer.
Ayntap
“The group reached Ayntap, having crossed mountains. My mother said, “When we go there, nobody touched us. We were quiet.
“After reaching the city’s center, the Turks said, ‘They all come from good families, decent children, so they must be taken care of.
“But each took one child to his family, as was written in the law. But her sister, Aghavni, was left in the street. The landlord said, ‘I cannot admit your sister into my house, but you can take whatever you want.’
“Every time my aunt knocked at the door, dressed like a beggar, my mom gave her bread to help her survive. My aunt later settled in one of the houses of Ayntap. Because she was skilled in carpet-making, she was given a similar job. My mother and aunt remained in Ayntap for three years and later returned to Sivas.
Return to Sivas
“My mom would always say, ‘Returning to your homeland without going to Beirut was a big mistake.’ When they were back home, they didn’t find anyone. The only familiar person was my father, the nephew of the former fiancé. My father was saved because he was a soldier in 1915.
Army desertion
“My father was still a soldier in 1919 when a law banning non-Muslims’ service was promulgated. An officer of my dad, Sahabettin, told him to take flight and hide. My father came to my mom and my aunt. There was a court ruling then for killing soldier-deserters wherever they were. Thirteen people escaped that day; twelve were found and killed. My father was the only one to remain alive. My mom and my aunt hid my father. They had dug a hole to hide him and covered it with an ash box.
“At night, when everybody was asleep, they opened the hole to feed him. One of the neighbors guessed what was going on. A woman, who lived in neighborhood, visited them quite comfortably, thinking there was no man at home. Her husband said, “Do you think there is absolutely no male there. I see [him] sometimes; ask them. and we will see who it is.
“My mom told the neighbor everything. Ali bay [the landlord] said, ‘Leave it to me, I will cope with that. Don’t be afraid I will protect you.’ He kept his promise and saved my dad.
“When my dad was out from the hole, his hair, eyebrows, beard and hair had fallen. Lonely and embarrassed, he had pulled his hair there.
New life
“Life played such trick on my mother … Learning – after her return from Ayntap – that she had no one except her sister – she married the former fiance’s cousin, with the former sister-in-law becoming her mother-in-law.
“When my father had left for Istanbul, he went to a restaurant which he liked a lot, and decided to open something like that in Sivas. Non-Muslims were prohibited then to own property and set up a business. So, he found a Turkish partner, Bekir bay. On the opening day, Bekir said the restaurant was his, and he sacked my father.
“My dad opened a new restaurant. In 15 years, we became one of the richest families in Sivas.
“Our clients were the parliament members, Nusret Cukubcu and Rifat Otken. My father’s reputation reached Ankara. But they began hating us. They would hurl stone at our house and beat my dad.
Brevity
“I was seven years old. I was walking along the street with my mother who was holding my hand. We had a priest, and there was a crazy girl in our street, whose name was Bedir. As priest was walking along the street, Bedir attacked and began beating him. My mother let my hand free, ran aside and taking a stone, threw it at Bedir.
“On another occasion, my mom had given money to a vendor neighbor, asking him to bring goods when travelling to other towns. He neither brought the goods nor returned the money. My mother quarreled with the neighbor, and the police came. The men said to the policemen, ‘I complain, Mr policeman, this woman called me a priest’. And the policeman answered, ‘This woman is an Armenian. By calling you a priest, she will not offend hers.’
My Aunt, Aghavni
“My aunt Aghavni, who had returned from exile, devoted all her life to me. I never left her, and she never left me. It was too late when I realized she was afraid of men and was never interested in them. Many bad things had happened on the way to exile. She was raped, and though remained alive, she couldn’t forget the pain.
(An offspring of Armenian Genocide survivors, who narrowly escaped death during the tragedy, has spoken of her family’s story of exile and return to Turkey)
The story, which she shared with the Turkish-Armenian publication Agos, is presented below:
“My name is Annik Keshishian. I was born in 1919 in central Civas [city in Turkey’s center]. I finished five years of school and later attended an art center for ladies.
“My mother, Akabi Terzian, struggled a lot for my education. She went to the province governor and said, ‘My daughter must receive education’.
“My mother spoke a very beautiful Armenian. She had learned dress-making at a studio. She,her brothers and sisters had gone to an Armenian school. But my younger sister and brother, Vardanush and Manuk, didn’t learn Armenian as the schools had closed down. My younger uncle and my aunt went to an American college in 1915. The children at the college’s orphanage were taken away during the massacre. My uncle Manuk, who was nine then, was lost, and my aunt Vardanush reached Greece and left for America from there.
My Aunt, Vardanush
“When we came to Istanbul in 1948, I wanted to learn Armenian. I expressed my desire to Mr. Poghos Bazezyan, and he helped me. I did everything then to find my relatives, uncle and aunt, who had got lost. After long searches, I finally found my aunt Vardanush in America, 33 years later. I wrote her a letter in Turkish. She kept the letter for two years as she hadn’t found anyone reading Turkish and didn’t understand what it said. Later, I wrote a letter in Armenian, which I had just learned. The came in no time. My aunt died in America, so I never met her.
My mom, Akabi Kyureghyan
“My mother, Akabi Kyuregyan, was one of the six children. In 1915, my two aunts, Vahagn and Harutyun, owned a restaurant. They would describe my mom as a ‘a cook by day and a professor at night’. They escaped during the massacre to reach America. My mother would always say, ‘There is no flying from fate. They escaped death to die here.’
Wedding dress hanging on wall
“In 1915, my mother was an engaged orphan girl. She and her younger sister, Aghavni, raised the brothers. Waiting for her wedding with her lacy dress hanging on the wall, my mom was sent into exile with her fiancé and the latter’s sister, who later became a sister-in-law.
“Upon being marched into exile, my mom took her diplomas with her and kept them with her passport. Her fiancé mocked her then. And my mother came to realize they weren’t going to a good place.
“After crossing a long way with the fiancés, the males were isolated, but the women walked on. The men who went away never returned.
“My mom and my aunt Flaure, who had her baby in arms, continued the way. Her sister-in-law said later she cannot walk. They left her on the way and threw the child into the river. My father would ask sometimes, “What happened to Flore?” But my mom never gave him an answer.
Ayntap
“The group reached Ayntap, having crossed mountains. My mother said, “When we go there, nobody touched us. We were quiet.
“After reaching the city’s center, the Turks said, ‘They all come from good families, decent children, so they must be taken care of.
“But each took one child to his family, as was written in the law. But her sister, Aghavni, was left in the street. The landlord said, ‘I cannot admit your sister into my house, but you can take whatever you want.’
“Every time my aunt knocked at the door, dressed like a beggar, my mom gave her bread to help her survive. My aunt later settled in one of the houses of Ayntap. Because she was skilled in carpet-making, she was given a similar job. My mother and aunt remained in Ayntap for three years and later returned to Sivas.
Return to Sivas
“My mom would always say, ‘Returning to your homeland without going to Beirut was a big mistake.’ When they were back home, they didn’t find anyone. The only familiar person was my father, the nephew of the former fiancé. My father was saved because he was a soldier in 1915.
Army desertion
“My father was still a soldier in 1919 when a law banning non-Muslims’ service was promulgated. An officer of my dad, Sahabettin, told him to take flight and hide. My father came to my mom and my aunt. There was a court ruling then for killing soldier-deserters wherever they were. Thirteen people escaped that day; twelve were found and killed. My father was the only one to remain alive. My mom and my aunt hid my father. They had dug a hole to hide him and covered it with an ash box.
“At night, when everybody was asleep, they opened the hole to feed him. One of the neighbors guessed what was going on. A woman, who lived in neighborhood, visited them quite comfortably, thinking there was no man at home. Her husband said, “Do you think there is absolutely no male there. I see [him] sometimes; ask them. and we will see who it is.
“My mom told the neighbor everything. Ali bay [the landlord] said, ‘Leave it to me, I will cope with that. Don’t be afraid I will protect you.’ He kept his promise and saved my dad.
“When my dad was out from the hole, his hair, eyebrows, beard and hair had fallen. Lonely and embarrassed, he had pulled his hair there.
New life
“Life played such trick on my mother … Learning – after her return from Ayntap – that she had no one except her sister – she married the former fiance’s cousin, with the former sister-in-law becoming her mother-in-law.
“When my father had left for Istanbul, he went to a restaurant which he liked a lot, and decided to open something like that in Sivas. Non-Muslims were prohibited then to own property and set up a business. So, he found a Turkish partner, Bekir bay. On the opening day, Bekir said the restaurant was his, and he sacked my father.
“My dad opened a new restaurant. In 15 years, we became one of the richest families in Sivas.
“Our clients were the parliament members, Nusret Cukubcu and Rifat Otken. My father’s reputation reached Ankara. But they began hating us. They would hurl stone at our house and beat my dad.
Brevity
“I was seven years old. I was walking along the street with my mother who was holding my hand. We had a priest, and there was a crazy girl in our street, whose name was Bedir. As priest was walking along the street, Bedir attacked and began beating him. My mother let my hand free, ran aside and taking a stone, threw it at Bedir.
“On another occasion, my mom had given money to a vendor neighbor, asking him to bring goods when travelling to other towns. He neither brought the goods nor returned the money. My mother quarreled with the neighbor, and the police came. The men said to the policemen, ‘I complain, Mr policeman, this woman called me a priest’. And the policeman answered, ‘This woman is an Armenian. By calling you a priest, she will not offend hers.’
My Aunt, Aghavni
“My aunt Aghavni, who had returned from exile, devoted all her life to me. I never left her, and she never left me. It was too late when I realized she was afraid of men and was never interested in them. Many bad things had happened on the way to exile. She was raped, and though remained alive, she couldn’t forget the pain.