The fire and explosion at the Ravive Kozmetik perfume workshop in the Dilovası district of Kocaeli, which killed six women workers, three of them children, continues to reverberate.
Despite complaints filed with the Presidential Communications Centre regarding safety negligence, the perfume workshop, which was found to be operating illegally and had never been inspected, caught fire after a static discharge or an electrical contact occurred during the transfer of alcohol into the production tank, according to the investigation report.
As part of the inquiry into the workplace killing, eleven people were taken into custody. The workshop owner Kurtuluş Oransal, along with İsmail Oransal, Altay Ali Oransal, Aleyna Oransal and Gökberk Güngör, were arrested on charges of “possible intent to cause death”, while Ali Osman Akat and Onay Yürüklü were jailed on charges of “aiding a suspect.”
Hilal Yılmaz, who worked at the perfume workshop six months earlier and is grieving the loss of her co-workers, Şengül Yılmaz, Tuğba Taşdemir, Nisa Taşdemir, Cansu Esatoğlu, Esma Dikan and Hanım Gülek, spoke to ANF.
Yılmaz pointed out that the workshop had previously suffered problems due to electrical wiring and said, “Kurtuluş Oransal essentially left a live bomb right in the middle of Dilovası.”
We went to work with our lives in our hands
Hilal Yılmaz, who worked at the Ravive Kozmetik perfume workshop for a month and a half six months ago, said she knew all six women, three of them children, who were killed in what she described as a foreseeable workplace massacre. Yılmaz emphasised that the tragedy “did not come out of nowhere,” explained that during her time at the workshop, electrical wiring repeatedly caused problems, and the filling machine where materials were placed frequently malfunctioned, yet no safety measures were taken.
Yılmaz said the malfunction had frightened her so much that she moved from filling to packaging: “We went to work with our lives in our hands. Either the machine would break down because of the electrical cables, or we would get shocked. They said we were producing perfume, but I’m not even sure it was perfume. What I saw was someone bringing the liquid, adding water to it, and making us do the filling. One day the cables connected to the filling machine failed, flames came out. I was terrified, and I told the boss openly. After that, I switched to packaging. There was no proper exit, no fire escape, no fire extinguisher. We used to talk among ourselves as workers: ‘There are no windows, no ventilation… if something happens, how will we get out of here?’ There was only one storage door, and that was opened only when trucks brought in materials and then the entire area was piled with boxes.”
Syrians were also working illegally; some may have died too
Hilal Yılmaz described the harsh conditions at the workshop and said: “We were working in a tiny, airless space, practically under the stairs. At that time there were nine of us. We started at 8 a.m. and worked late into the evening. We had no insurance. We weren’t even given food. We had to bring our own bread from home. The workshop only had a small kitchenette, no chairs, no tables. We sat on the floor to eat. They didn’t even give us tea. Our young co-workers who later died had argued twice over tea. There was a kettle to heat water, but because of the wiring, we kept getting shocked. I used to make tea at home and bring it in a thermos. That’s why I argued with the boss, Kurtuluş Oransal. When I told him, ‘If you’re employing this many people, you have to provide food,’ he snapped back at me: ‘If you’re not happy, the door is right there. As if there are no Syrians… You need me, I don’t need you.’ He was hiring Syrians illegally too. Maybe they also burned to death in this massacre, I don’t know. I left my job after that argument.”
He was paying us only 500 liras a month at first
Hilal Yılmaz said that many girls such as Nisa, Tuğba and Cansu, who could not attend school because of financial hardship, were working at the workshop. Yılmaz said, “Most of the workers there were women, so their families allowed them to work. In the neighbourhood, women working outside the home is generally frowned upon, so some women came to the workshop secretly. There were never any inspections. When municipal officers came, they simply took boxes of perfume and left. And despite all this, he shamelessly paid us only 500 liras a month. We protested, and only then did he increase it to 800 liras.”
They worked there out of poverty and desperation
Hilal Yılmaz said she would not remain silent about the women and girls who “disappeared before everyone’s eyes,” and added that she refuses to accept that their deaths go unanswered.
Yılmaz also said: “I sat with all of them, I ate with all of them. I even went to Şengül’s daughter’s wedding. If I had still been working there, I would have died too and my five innocent children would have been left alone. After this massacre, my children’s mental health collapsed. When I leave for work now, they cry, ‘Mama, don’t go.’ They are terrified. I don’t want my friends’ lives to be left on the ground like this. They burned alive. Those girls, those women ended up there because of poverty and desperation. Have you ever seen a wealthy child die like this? They were all poor, and most of them women. It is always women who face violence, who are killed, exploited, belittled. If our women and young girls had better living conditions, believe me, not one of them would have worked there. If their lives had been different, they might have become doctors, teachers. I grieve deeply for those young saplings. In the morning I saw flames rising from the workshop. I saw Ayten, who survived, and immediately asked about Şengül. That is when I received heartbreaking news. I condemn Dilovası as well. After such a massacre, everyone should have shown their outrage. The shopkeepers should have shut their shutters. But some said, ‘Let my restaurant stay open, I need to earn money.’ But that was not a day to worry about bread. Our young girls burned alive, they turned to ash in the name of someone’s daily bread. Those young girls carried heavy packages on pallets. They did work that even men could not do. They were so determined, so hardworking, so dignified. And just to fill their stomachs, they came to work with nothing but a packet of biscuits, a piece of cake and a juice box in their hands.”
Do not let this massacre be covered up
Yılmaz concluded her remarks as follows: “I will never forget there was a young girl named Ayşe. She forgot to bring bread from home one day and worked the whole shift hungry without saying a word. When we found out, we were devastated. Şengül said to her, ‘Ayşe, why didn’t you tell us? We would have shared our bread with you.’ I saw the girls a week before this workplace massacre. They ran to me and hugged my neck. Instead of me comforting them, they comforted me. Nisa always wore a puffer jacket. I used to tease her, ‘Why are you wearing that puffer jacket?’ And she would laugh, ‘Hilal, you’re starting again.’ She even defended me once, saying, ‘No one can talk to Hilal. I’m here. I’m her girl.’ They were all just waiting to grow up so they could work somewhere else. When I think of them, I fall apart. The boss quite literally left a live bomb in Dilovası. When a drop of hot water touches us, we scream what did they say in those final moments? Did they cry out for their mothers? I cannot digest this. Do not let this be forgotten. Do not let this massacre be covered up.”