I - Am Sam Kurdish

— Sam Enjoyed this post? Share it with someone who’s ever asked you “Kurdish… is that a language?” Let’s start a conversation, one cup of tea at a time.

Let me start with something simple: my name is Sam. I drink coffee in the morning, scroll through my phone too much, and get annoyed when it rains on my commute. On paper, I’m just another guy trying to get through the week.

It means laughing harder than anywhere else. Kurdish humor is sharp, self-deprecating, and often involves someone’s uncle doing something ridiculous. We’ve survived so much that we’ve learned not to take ourselves too seriously. i am sam kurdish

But I’m also Kurdish.

It means music that makes you feel a thousand years old. The sound of the tembûr, the slow ache in a Dengbêj’s voice, singing stories that were never written down because writing wasn’t safe, but memory was. — Sam Enjoyed this post

It means Newroz. The fire. The dancing. The feeling that spring is not just a season but a political act — a celebration of resistance, of new beginnings, of a people who refused to disappear. I’m Sam. I work a normal job, argue about sports, and have a plant I keep forgetting to water.

It means a language that is ancient and beautiful and, until recently, illegal to speak in schools in some of the countries we call home. I drink coffee in the morning, scroll through

And I’m Kurdish. I come from a people without a state but with an unshakable soul. A people whose anthem is called “Ey Reqîb” — “O, Enemy” — because even our love songs have a little defiance in them.