When the Homeland Burns and Nature Weeps, Memory Speaks Through the Ashes — It's Not Losses, It's Lives

Two souls lost in the most horrific way.

They are not just "two dead" — they are people who were burned alive, trapped in a fiery nightmare.

Have we ever thought about what it means to be burned alive?

To feel the fire approaching, to see the light turn to smoke, and to know that no one is coming?

Thousands of animals died a martyr's death, silent witnesses to a merciless destruction.

Houses were reduced to ashes. Villages were devastated.

The stone walls that held the memories of generations now stand blackened by the flames.

Images of loss everywhere.

Children's toys buried under ashes.

Centuries-old trees collapsed to the ground, as if bent over with grief.

A huge ecological disaster that is not measured only in burned acres, but in a changing future.

And tomorrow? What will happen tomorrow?

Who will tell us about the future health effects of the residents?

For the children who will breathe the smoke of this tragedy for years?

For the soil that has been poisoned, the water that has been contaminated, the air that no longer smells of life?

This is not just a fire.

It is a wound. It is a shame. It is resounding proof that when the state is absent, people burn – literally.

But their names will not be erased.

Neither will the cry of those who lived through this hell, nor the responsibility that weighs on those who remained silent.