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My Journey to Israel: A Story of Dreams, Struggles, and Resilience


Turku Avci


Coming to Israel from Turkey was not just a geographical journey—it was also a journey of thought and identity. When I first took that step, I had no idea what awaited me. But sometimes, a single step can change everything. For me, coming to Israel was exactly that kind of turning point.


I grew up in a secular, opposition-leaning family in Turkey. Yet even in my home, there was not a particularly positive view of Israel. At the same time, I could see how the issue of “Palestine” was being used by those in power to radicalize society and silence dissent. I felt uneasy about this direction. That’s why I began reading Israeli writers, trying to understand the story from Israel’s side. By the time I was 21, I realized with absolute clarity that I wanted to study politics in Israel.


Since childhood, I had dreamed of becoming a modern, strong Turkish woman who could make an impact—especially for the children and women of the Middle East. But my family could not afford to support my studies abroad. So I turned to close family friends, people who had been part of my life since childhood, and with their help, I was able to raise enough to finally pursue my dream and study in Israel.


From the moment I arrived, I encountered a reality very different from what I had been told. There was another Israel—one that much of the world does not see. It reflected the same struggle for freedom that so many women in the Middle East are fighting for.


On October 7, 2023, I was in Jerusalem. I woke up in fear, watching the horrific images unfold. That day I told myself: “This will be the war that unites the world behind Israel.” After everything we had witnessed, I could not imagine otherwise. But what I saw in the days that followed shocked me deeply—not only on Turkish media channels but also in international outlets: antisemitic narratives and distorted news that ignored reality.


After that, silence was no longer an option for me. I began speaking out as a Turkish woman in Israel, sharing what I witnessed and correcting misinformation. As a result, I was targeted by Turkish media. I lost all my scholarships and financial support. I received death threats. Today, I don’t even know if I could return to Turkey without facing arrest.


I lost almost everything—my financial security, my ability to see my family, even my housing when I couldn’t pay my dorm fees during the war with Iran. Yet despite all of this, I refuse to give up on my dreams, and I refuse to stay silent about the truth I have seen.


I grew up reading books about the struggles of Middle Eastern women. I always imagined myself as a hero who could help rescue them from oppression. Now, I feel as though I am living those stories myself—not in a distant, symbolic way, but in the reality of being targeted for speaking the truth. The Turkish media has turned me into a villain, I have lost scholarships and financial support, and I face threats that make it impossible to return home safely. Like the women I once read about, I am paying a price simply for raising my voice and refusing to remain silent.


My greatest dream is to touch and transform even one woman’s life. For me, this begins with understanding Israel and sharing its story. Israel’s very existence is our greatest hope. Israel’s very existence is, I believe, the greatest hope for a freer and more secure future in the Middle East. Israel is the only living example and true supporter of freedom struggles in our region.


When I graduate, I plan to dedicate my career in journalism to this mission: to give voice to women, to shed light on the truth, and to show that hope can survive even in the darkest corners of the Middle East. Living in Israel as a Turkish woman has shown me that this hope is not a dream but a reality—Israel proves every day that democracy, diversity, and freedom can exist in our region.



 
 
 

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