I remember the Turkish coup of 1980. Now it is my nephews’ turn to see adults terrified, fearing for their lives and their country’s future.
Until I was eight years old, I had never heard the word “dawn”. Then, early one morning, I woke up to the radio playing loudly in the living room, and found my mother and father chain-smoking as they listened to the declaration of a coup. Their faces darkened as the day broke. It was 12 September 1980, the first time I saw the dawn.
New Yorker ,18 December 2017