Journey into Maraş,

EVERY building had its own tale to tell, hauntingly casting shadows down on us as the very first visitors to walk into the town.

Members of the international media were also present, who were interviewing a Palestinian student studying in the TRNC. The Estonian state television reporter asked him: “Does Varosha resemble the Gaza strip?” and “Do you think that the opening of [Maraş] will create more friction?”

I even overhead the student being asked if the move was an “act of war”.

He replied that the situation in Gaza was somewhat different because the people there are squeezed into a small area. The student then added that the town should be used for uniting Cypriots.

The reporter then turned to me and asked the same “act of war” question. Baffled by such provocative questioning, I explained, in the simplest of ways, that the Turkish Cypriots are the victims of this conflict; who fought for generations against Enosis; and who said ‘Yes’ to the Annan Plan in 2004 which was rejected by the Greek Cypriot side.

“The EU and international community supported that solution plan,” I said. “The promises made to Turkish Cypriots to end the embargoes on them, to enable them direct trade and travel . . . made by then EU Enlargement commissioner Gunter Verheugen, were never implemented.

“We made proposals for Maraş to be given to the Greek Cypriots as part of confidence building measure packages and in solution plans – only to be rejected by the Greek Cypriots.

“The Turkish Cypriots are politically and

economically isolated. What does the EU expect them to do having been let down? It is an issue of economic survival. This is an important step. Maraş will be opened to civilians, and brought under what is known as the Immovable Property Commission, where former property owners will be afforded restitution, compensation or exchange as a legal remedy that is recognised by the European Court of Human Rights . . . How can this be an act of war or friction?”

Walking among the buildings also revived my humanity. I saw a Greek Cypriot woman, probably in her 60s, crying as she walked along the street. She must have been from Maraş. She must have been reliving a trauma, I thought.

She must have been relieved at being able to visit even this stretch of the town, I thought to myself. I offered her water but she declined.