If the streets of here could speak,
they would tell about discussions, accompanied by the blue smoke of tobacco, and sit in a plastic chair with slippers.
If the streets of here could speak,
then they would tell the story of struggling projects with your voice, of self-organization and the breadth of a movement
before, during and after the “war against the virus” set out to shape life in the metropolises.
If the streets of here could speak,
then they would tell of how you took the Phoenicurus ochruros into your hands and how you united to defend this place with all your heart and both hands.
If the trees of here could speak,
then they would tell of how their leaves shone in the lurking light of the garden, while, with the love on your shoulders, in or alongside the beat of the driving music,
you called into the evening sky
If the trees of here could speak,
then they would tell of everyday life, of the enjoyment of coffee, a late night meal, and of the many doors, connecting the spaces of community with the ones of a quiet moment.
If the trees of here could speak,
then they would tell of how you took the fire extinguisher firmly in your hands with trembling hands, perhaps, but courageously.
In the courtyard – do you remember?
October 31 marks one year since the day in 2024 when our friend and comrade Kyriakos Xymitiris lost his life in the afternoon in an apartment on Arkadias Street, Athens. He died as an anarchist revolutionary, who chose armed struggle, when a bomb in his hands exploded.
The explosion seriously injured our friend and anarchist comrade Marianna Manoura. She was rescued from the rubble of the apartment, taken to the hospital, underwent multiple surgeries, and after only fifteen days—one day after another surgery—was transported to Korydallos prison. Since October, 31st 2024 she remains imprisoned by the Greek state. Our friend and anarchist comrade Dimitra Zarafeta, Dimitris, Nikos Romanos, and another person, are also arrested in the following days and weeks, imprisoned in Korydallos prison and confronted with the anti-terrorism law §187a.
On this afternoon of October 31, 2024, our lives change within seconds. In the days that follow, the news and the various emotions it triggers make their way through Berlin: shock, the flood of a thousands of thoughts, feelings, and images. Tears, gasping for air, a pain that takes over the body – not wanting to understand the incomprehensible. Friends, comrades, companions, familiar and unfamiliar faces come together. We meet and cry.
What kind of times are these when you, Kyriakos, amongst others took your life into your own hands and took the risk? When you demanded nothing less than everything?
As we ask this question, we remember that four years ago, before the attempt of Leonid Medved, the Senate and their cops to evict Rigaer94 with the help of a fire security inspection we have asked ourselves a similar question: “Why attack now, why take the risk now, why run the danger of being overrun once again?” 2020 and 2021 have been the years of the coronavirus pandemic, which was managed by governments worldwide with increasing authoritarianism. Here in Berlin, we observed how the state of emergency served the isolation within society and how the dystopian development of the necessary technological instruments boomed. At the same time, we found ourselves in a period of major and minor uprisings and revolts, both locally and, above all, globally. In this context, we saw the need to contribute our small part to the struggles worldwide for self-organization, collective spaces and against the capitalization of living space. This was put into practice with a temporary autonomous zone on June 16 and 17, 2021. Four years later – in the face of increasing homelessness and daily forced evictions, the authoritarian to fascist formations of crises, the brutality of the war waged by those in power and the rich against the dispossessed and oppressed up to the live broadcasted genocide against the Palestinian people – it sometimes seems within reach to lose perspective, reason, and meaning. So what next?
With hope, some say. With anger, others. By preserving the memory of the past, nourishing the present with it, in order to fight for the future, the next. By daring to dream. By being there for each other and forming communities. By analyzing what surrounds us, discussing, educating ourselves, and selforganizing ourselves. Here, in one of the capitalist centers of the imperial West, we carry the responsibility to stand up, to overthrow these murderous conditions – and to never stop. The methods used in these struggles are as diverse as the people themselves, with different risks and decisions. Again and again, though diverse, these different ways intertwine. Together, they form a network of paths that lead us to another place, where we can meet again. To a place where our relationships with each other are no longer shaped by oppression, exploitation, competition, or power. To a place of dignity, freedom, solidarity, and self-determination. A place in a world where not a single person has to die for reasons other than the circle of life.
Kyriakos, you took your seat next to many other people too soon, too soon you left us. Your death leaves a huge void. We dedicate these lines to you, which have grown over the last year. They attempt to put into words a small part of how we remember you. At the same time there are not enough words, to describe the grief and the loss, when someone leaves us. As our community here is constantly changing, some of us shared everyday life with you, fought, laughed, and cried, while others never had the chance to get to know you. It is our task to keep your memory alive through stories. We remember you as a tireless fighter, as a friend, as a guest, and as part of our community. You were attentive and loving. Full of humor and respect. You contributed wherever you could. We remember your late dinners, how you stood in the kitchen, and who made the salad. We remember your clearing your throat, your coughing, the next cigarette. We remember the discussions and arguments with you, your contributions to the struggle of Interkiezionale that connected the various cultural and housing projects in this city. We remember you as someone who took on the problems and thoughts of his friends and comrades and also knew how to make them his own in order to search for solutions. You brought people together instead of loosing yourself in the flow of the metropolis. Together and from each other, we learned the multifaceted anarchist struggle, with its ups and downs.
Kyriakos, we promise to you and all ourselves, we will not forget you. We promise you that our pain and tears will flow into the stream of our struggles that will one day lead us to the world we dreamed of together and for which you took the risk and gave your life.
With our deepest love, anger and a clenched fist, we shout over the walls of Korydallos:
Freedom for all prisoners!
Kyriakos Xymitiris – for ever present!
See you soon, comrade, friend.