For fifty years they live alone, together with the Turkish conquerors, in Agios Andronikos. In the village where they grew up and lived their most beautiful years. But also the most difficult, when after the invasion they had to forget what they knew and find a way to coexist with the conquerors. They are 97-year-old Andreas and 85-year-old Milia Christofi.
Mr. Andreas and Ms. Milia are the two remaining stranded residents of the village of Karpasia, Agios Andronikos. It is the trademark of the village, since they did not leave their home for so many years. They lived through the invasion, the occupation, and are still experiencing its consequences, when twice a month they receive food from the United Nations and not from their daughter, like all the old people in the free zones.
The two of them are always willing to open their home and talk to anyone who passes by. This is what they did to us when we visited them, together with the Head of Humanitarian Issues for Missing and Imprisoned Persons, Anna Aristotelous.
They welcomed us with a smile, with good conversation and with love in their eyes. We sat down to chat and Mr. Andreas, who was the most talkative, told us about life, as it was before the invasion, how he himself experienced captivity in Turkey and how much life changed after that summer of 1974.
Life before 1974
Mr. Andreas began to describe life before the war of 1974 and his mind was filled with memories, of a different life, which did not resemble the life after the invasion. Back when Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots lived peacefully.
“I was married. My wife became pregnant and at eight months she gave birth to my daughter, but she died of bleeding during the birth. I reunited with Milia in 1969. Before the war, our life was quiet. We used to eat, we had sitarka jiai colocasia. Agios Andronikos, as far as the eye could see, was full of green jiai and it was colocasia. Jiai respect each other. We entered the cafe and each got up to offer the chair to the other. Now they don't talk to each other. We had our fields, we plowed and we sowed and we reaped. Alone, with a pair of skins, we didn't have machines then. Now the machine came to the field. Then he was with our sierkas.
Life was much different then, we were with the Turkish Cypriots and lived peacefully. They graced each other in marriages. I remember one incident, I was ten years old. My mother and my daughters-in-law took us to a mahalla where they had a wedding. When we finished, the girls came in, but they didn't let my mother in. A giame told her “you can come in, but the baby is not good enough”. My mother answers him “should I listen to him?” Jiai called out to my harps “ate korues efiame”. They sing “thkeia Yallourou en ne fyeis?” yay my mom told them they wouldn't let her come in with me yay finally they told her to put me on top of her. Life then was night and day. Much different than today. Much different”.
-block-key=”co1jg”>Invasion and Captivity in Turkey
The invasion of the Turks in 1974 changed life drastically for Mr. Andreas and Ms. Apple tree. In the area of Karpasia there were no battles, the soldiers did not fight with the invaders to stop them. Instead, the Turks entered the villages and rounded up the unarmed citizens and all men up to 45 years of age. Mr. Andreas, then 45 years old, was among those taken prisoner.
“I was in my house when the invasion took place, I didn't even leave my house. The Turks came in and forced us. They took us men to the school and then they put us in a car and they took us to Nicosia. They put us in a warehouse and left us there for several days. Then, they dressed us in our uniforms and our sierkas and took us to the ships to take us to Turkey.
While they were taking us away, I told a Turkish soldier, who was a good man, that my jiay spoon had poisoned me. When we got on the ship, a giame officer said to us “let's cut your kelle”. I, who only understood Turkish, told the others and they were stressed. We entered the ship, they were carrying us. Poji, we've been through a lot. We were in a long narrow corridor. They brought us water that they don't drink, because I knew Turkish, they asked where they brought it from, and I understood that it was not good.
One day they brought us a handkerchief. I told one of my friends to catch her, because we were poor people, and we were fighting for the scarf, and that's how it happened. One of them was washing Jiai, the other caught her snoring, and finally they settled on sierka. I stepped into the middle and stopped them. This was it. At night the one came jia told me to sit on my bed jia he sat down, he said to me “thank you best man Andreas for stopping me jia I found out it was a heart attack jia if I hit him I was going to mess up” jia I told him “in jia it was only you who was going to mess up , in our teeth”.
In interrogations it was like the Court. They were the Turtzians and one who spoke Greek. They asked us where we were from, if he had Turks, how was life. I told him that we were fine, then he asked me if I knew Turkish. I told him to let me talk. They were. Then he told me not to turn us to our country, because we were not soldiers”.
The return to the village
“In October 1974 they brought us to Nicosia. When we got up we asked if we have a guarantee if they won't bother us to go to our country. They told us “so we can't give you a guarantee”. I had my baby here, my mother, I said, I'm not going, let them kill me. We were the only ones left. When they sat down to talk, we sat down to blow. However, things remained in the cassias. We stayed together until today. We were coming, we were coming. We made the application to go to jiai en efiame. It was our country, we stayed in our place.
Dame life in Agios Andronikos was different. One night they came to catch me the alleters of the tract jiai I was forced into the sierkas with three nomads. I arrived at night outside by accident and I saw them. They saw me jiai left the jiai efyan. I caught a masairi jiai ekkika poko. He came at me, he grabbed me by the neck, then I grabbed him by the neck, shouting “rather than a jinn drowning me, let me drown him”.
The wish for fifty years
“We want a mercy to be found, for the Jains who are legal residents to return home so that this country can live happily”.
