The border is a lived experience for me. I grew up in a border city in Kurdistan, where the presence of the border was part of everyday life. It was not only a line on a map, but a physical and political presence that shaped movement, identity and the way the surrounding land was understood.

For me, the border is a constructed line imposed onto a continuous territory, often through colonial and political power: a line that divides what was once connected, produces different names and identities on each side, and determines who and what can pass through it. It is also a structure of control, maintained through surveillance, restriction and force.