In the last few days I saw Liisa, our Finnish nurse in the Burns Treatment Center of the EMERGENCY Hospital in Erbil, talking for hours and hours with Nakshin, trying to communicate with her in spite of the different language they spoke.

In this Center there are many women hospitalized because of alleged "household accidents", but more than once we suspected that we were witnessing attempted suicides. We were never able to confirm these suspicions, because our patients have always denied it. But Nakshin, with the help of our Kurdish head nurse as an interpreter, told us her story.

"My name is Nakshin, and I am Kurdish. I come from Careas Claow, a village of 13 families on the Kurdish mountains near the Iranian border. Like all those who live on the mountains, we are shepherds. My father passed away when I was five. I have a brother who is six years older, and a younger sister. There was a school in my village, that I attended up to the third grade, then my brother forced me to interrupt my schooling. Since my father died, he had become the head of the family and he made decisions as far as I was concerned. He said that girls must stay at home, and they do not need an education. I married at the age of twelve: my brother sold me for six golden bracelets. My husband was a shepherd, he came from a village near mine, and he was about my age. He was handsome and we loved each other. I remained married with him for more than five years. During this time we had two children, but his family was not happy, because we had two girls. His family convinced him that he needed another wife because I was not able to have boys. Therefore we divorced, when my second daughter was only five months old. My daughters were both given to my husband’s grandmother; I wish I could have kept them with me, but my brother did not allow me. Now the girls must be about eleven years old and six years old. I have not seen them any more. I went to Sulaimaniya to stay with relatives, and I stayed there for six years. During this time many men wanted to marry me, but none of them offered enough money to my brother, who wanted about 10,000 Kurdish dinars (about US$770). Eventually a man who was much older than me started to negotiate the price. My brother accepted to sell me for 5,000 dinars. At the beginning I did not agree, but later I accepted because I needed help: women in the Kurdish villages on the mountains cannot make it without a husband. I moved to the same house where Rasul was living with three other wives. We got along when he was not around, but when he was there we had some arguments. During the first month the three wives used to ask him why he brought me home, since I was not able to have children. But could I have children? I had been married only for a month. According to our traditions, if a man has more than one wife, usually he sleeps two or three nights with one, and then he switches. But Rasul spent more time with me than with the others. On one Friday night, Rasul came home and he accused me to create problems with the other wives. "I paid for you", he told me. I felt like an animal that could be sold and bought. We argued all night. Rasul started to hit me and he kept hitting me all night. I woke up at around 4 AM. I believe I was unconscious until that time. I told him that I would set myself on fire. That morning, while all were busy working, I got some kerosene and I poured some on my clothes. I hid a box of matches in my sleeves, and I went to Rasul and told him that I would set myself on fire. And then I did it: I caught fire in front of him. He did not do anything to stop the flames. He actually started to curse me. I went near a puddle in the yard to put off the fire and to alleviate the pain. Later, Rasul and his brother took me to the Sulaimaniya public hospital. During the trip to the hospital, they kept telling me not to tell the police that I set myself on fire, because the police would ask too many questions. They threatened to kill me with a poison injection, if I had talked. Therefore I did not say anything. At the hospital I told that the gas stove had exploded. Both my legs, my hands and my abdomen were burnt. I was semi-conscious for three days. I was told that I burnt more than 50% of my body surface, therefore I was hospitalized for four months. This hospital was not free. Furthermore, at the hospital I found out that I was pregnant. Rasul decided not to stay in touch any more. I was married to him only a month. After four months of treatment at the public hospital, my brother took me to his home in Erbil, where he lived with our mother, who took care of me. She would bath me and feed me, I was carried to the bathroom in a blanket. We did not have wheelchairs at home. In spite of the good care of my mother, I felt that my brother treated me like a dog, only to be thrown the leftovers at. My legs started to contract at the level of the knee, because of the scars and my left leg contracted at the level of the hip. Also my hands contracted badly. I was not able to walk and to dress by myself any more. My family ran out of money to cover the cost of treatment. My brother kept accusing me to create problems. I lost the baby. We heard that there was a free hospital in Erbil, where they could treat burn victims. They took me to that hospital. Dr. Hussein examined me and he said that he could do something for my legs and my hands.