Clutching the framed photos of their sons and daughters, the "Diyarbakır Mothers" sat out another day on Sunday outside the offices of a political party in southeastern Türkiye. Making it different from the 1,714 days some spent there was the occasion: Mother’s Day.

A group of women who wait solemnly in a makeshift tent are protesting the abduction of their children by the terrorist group PKK. Some were teenagers and others were minors when they were tricked to join the group as armed recruits.

"I miss the Mother’s Day of the past. My son would kiss my hand just like he did on bayrams (religious holidays)," Sevgi Çağmar, one of the women who joined the protest in the southeastern Turkish province of Diyarbakır.

Claiming to fight for Kurdish self-rule, the PKK lured many into its cause in the predominantly Kurdish southeast of Türkiye. For years, through intimidation, killings and bombings, it kept its grip on the Kurdish population. Then, in September 2019, something rarely seen in the region happened. A group of mothers who had not heard from their children for years started a protest outside the offices of the Peoples’ Democratic Party (HDP), which is known for its ties to the terrorist group. They claimed that the party staff helped the PKK to draw recruits. Under the guise of participation in "festivals" and similar events organized by the HDP, the Kurdish youth was brainwashed into joining the terrorist group.

The women’s simple protest in Diyarbakır soon grew into something larger and eventually led to a lengthy sit-in strike. "Children watch" as they themselves dubbed, drew some 375 families while fathers joined the sit-in strike. It also gave birth to similar protests in other eastern provinces and, in one case, in Germany, where a mother launched a solo sit-in against PKK’s abduction of her daughter. The solidarity of families drew nationwide praise and shed light on the dark side of the terrorist group seeking legitimacy through the HDP. In about five years, some 53 families reunited with their children. Some children, now in their twenties, fled the terrorist group when they became aware of the sit-in, while others were already planning to escape from the northern Iraqi hideouts of the group. Türkiye has remorse laws in place for surrendering terrorists. In some cases, they can walk free if they are not involved in lethal terror attacks.

But for the rest, waiting prevails, amid occasional visits by families reunited with their sons and daughters that boost their morale.

Bedriye Uslu’s son Mahmut was 18 years old when he was persuaded to join the terrorist group 14 years ago. He was "taken to the mountain," an expression used to refer to terrorists at large in mountainous regions of southeastern Türkiye and Iraq. "I will wait for him here as long as I can," Uslu told Anadolu Agency (AA). Mother’s Day is "meaningless" for Uslu without her son. "He used to love me very much. I miss him," she said.

Sevgi Çağmar’s son Yavuz was kidnapped by the PKK as a recruit nine years ago. "My son, I am longing for your sweet smell. Please return and end my sorrow," she addressed to her son in an interview with AA.