Many guests once visited us at the autonomous women’s village called Jinwar in northern Syria: journalists, politicians, friends from all over the world. They got to know us, our village and our daily lives. They saw the houses of clay in which we lived together; the school where our children studied Kurdish; the center for natural medicine, which was supposed to open soon; our communal bakery; our chickens, peacocks and dogs; the trees we planted in our garden.

Now all of this is under direct threat from Turkey. Our village sits less than three miles from the border. The bombs are drawing close. Military planes and drones have been crisscrossing the region. Turkish-backed jihadist groups are reportedly being positioned just across the border, threatening to kill the “infidels” on the other side. These forces continue to advance toward Jinwar from the west, ignoring the cease-fire.

Our daily life together has been interrupted. Everything we have built up is in danger of being destroyed. We were forced to leave our homes, not knowing whether we would be back in a few days, or whether we would never return. We don’t know what will come next or when our life will be able to return to normal. But even though we have had to find another safe place because of the ongoing attacks, we will never give up on Jinwar.

Before the Turkish invasion, Jinwar offered a sanctuary to women from all over northeast Syria and beyond — Kurds, Arabs, Yezidis. Some of our husbands were killed by ISIS; others of us left abusive relationships to live in Jinwar. Here was a place where women were able to live communally and autonomously, to raise and educate our children free of male influence. Jinwar was just one small part of the societal revolution taking place across northeast Syria — known to us as Rojava — where women are organizing autonomously in every city, creating alternative ways of life based on the principles of communal living, ecological thinking and a cooperative economy.