![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/26e82c_5090610b39e84b73b72381334f32337df000.jpg/v1/fill/w_1920,h_1080,al_c,q_90,enc_auto/26e82c_5090610b39e84b73b72381334f32337df000.jpg)
Banaz Heme Jezza
![Soura](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/26e82c_f92f9eca8ecf4d9887418d4b78b293f7~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_891,h_808,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/Soura_MG_1174.jpg)
If you know the language and make an effort, you will feel at ease. When my children were small, I joined the mothers’ group of a Christian church, so that they and I could familiarise ourselves with the Danish culture. I have tried to motivate them to do sports and to become part of so many communities and networks as possible, so they wouldn’t feel like foreigners in Denmark.
My life and my destiny is intertwined with that of the Kurdish people’s battle for an independent Kurdistan. My parents were partisans, but although their absence filled my childhood with fear and distress, their fight gave meaning to my life. My father wrote political songs in which he portrayed the human costs of partisan life, while also emphasising the importance of the continued fight. I was proud to be the daughter of someone who tirelessly set his own life on stand-by in the battle for the future. This has made me strong, and I thought I could withstand everything, but when I lost him some years ago, I felt like I lost my life. I felt like an abandoned child.
I had lived through my father, the things he did, the battles he fought, and suddenly my life seemed meaningless and trivial. It has taken me a long time to get back to life. I can’t be my dad, because he was so strong, but I can be a small part of him. Through my studies I attempt to create a new meaning in life, so perhaps I can continue his fight by returning to Kurdistan and teach pedagogy.
44 years / female / in a relationship / children / pedagogy student / Herlev / from Iraq / Kurdish background / came to Denmark in 1990 / residence permit in 1991