Suspicious refugee suicides in Germany: Are the camps safe enough?

Hogir Alay and Gökhan Kumak were found hanging from a tree in refugee camps in Germany. Alay and Kumak are just two of the Kurdish refugees who have reportedly committed suicide in German camps in recent years. These two suicides, which occurred in 2023 and 2024, raise questions about the safety of the refugee camps. The families are awaiting justice.

A refugee camp in Germany, Photo: planet-wissen.de

Hogir Alay and Gökhan Kumak are only two of the Kurdish refugees who have lost their lives in refugee camps in Germany in recent years. Hogir went from Mardin to Germany in 2022, and Gökhan went from Şırnak in 2023 to seek asylum. On this journey, which they embarked upon due to political pressure or the goal of building a better life, they spent a long time trying to reach Germany illegally. At the end of this period, they experienced difficult days in the camps they arrived at. After a while, their bodies were found hanging from trees inside the refugee camps. Alay’s body was found 24 days later in a wooded area within the garden of the camp where he stayed.

German authorities announced that both Alay and Kumak had committed suicide. However, according to their families, there was no reason for their children to take their own lives. Despite the time that has passed, they want the causes of their children’s deaths to be investigated. They claim there was negligence on the part of relevant institutions and individuals in Germany.

Why are refugees committing suicide in Germany?

According to data reflected in the press and public opinion, dozens of Kurdish refugees have ended their lives in Germany since 2023. 17-year-old Mustafa Baki from Kobanî, Mehvan Muhammed Süleyman from Duhok, 28-year-old Fethullah Aslan in a psychiatric institution in Berlin, and Mustafa Polat in Erfurt are just a few names on this list.

According to data from the refugee counseling center Pena-Ger, 32 suicide attempts occurred in the state of Saxony in 2024 alone. However, according to Pena-Ger, the real figures are much higher, as ethnic origin records are not kept and many cases go ‘undocumented.’

Between 1993 and 2018, 288 suicide cases were documented in refugee camps in Germany. Today, it is recorded that there are approximately 30 suicides and 400 attempts per year.

Hanging, jumping from heights, or overdosing

Refugees most often commit suicide in or around the camps where they stay, while their asylum process is ongoing or under the threat of deportation. This most frequently occurs in the form of hanging oneself from a tree, jumping from a height, or overdosing. It was announced that Gökhan Kumak and Hogir Alay also committed suicide by hanging themselves.

Hogir Alay’s body was found 24 days later

Hogir Alay lost his life on October 11, 2023. His body was found on November 4 by someone else staying at the AfA-Kusel refugee camp where he resided. In other words, Alay’s body emerged 24 days later. As stated in the investigation file, the location where the body was found was the wooded area right behind the gym inside the camp.

On October 11, Alay called his father several times, as well as his brother and his brother’s wife, but could not reach them. After this attempt, which took place around 18:00 on the same day, his family could never reach Hogir’s phone again.

Screen recordings showing Şiyar Alay’s correspondence with authorities via email

According to the family’s claim, during the following days when they could not hear from their child, they wrote an email to the refugee camp where Hogir stayed through their other child, Şiyar Alay, who is a refugee in Austria. In the official email written in response to Şiyar Alay dated October 25, it was explicitly stated that the police could not establish any contact with Hogir and that attempts made through Social Services (Sozialdienst) had been inconclusive.

In the file prepared regarding Alay’s death, according to the security guards of the camp, Alay’s last entry-exit record via ID card scan was made on October 11, 2023, at 16:27. It is stated that he entered the facility at that hour. It is noted that on October 17, 2023, he was reported missing because he could not be found in the accommodation facility during patrols.

Official Investigation Document of the Kaiserslautern Police Department

Alay’s brother Rêber Alay told Niha+: “On November 4, news came to us from the camp. They saw him and said he had lost his life. They realized it was him because he had an AK-47 tattoo on his chest. He had a tattoo on his chest.” In the investigation and autopsy reports, it is stated that because the body had remained outside for a long time, it had become unrecognizable, his identity could not be determined, and identification was only possible with the tattoo on his chest. The news of Hogir Alay’s death was officially conveyed to Turkey’s Consulate General in Mainz by the police on November 6, 2023, at 11:52.

Hogir Alay before going to Germany as a refugee

Rêber Alay rebels against this situation: “His feet are touching the ground. There are photos. Also, his body is very battered. Decayed. He must have been hanging for 24 days. If he is in the camp and in a visible place, how could this child have been hanging for 24 days? Thousands of people stay in 그 camp. During this time, camp authorities did not ask if this child was missing. They notified the police after it became clear he was dead. Something striking is that they say everyone who died hanged themselves. Don’t people who commit suicide try another method? This is a question mark. They are all diagnosed as dying from heart failure. It was said that Hogir died the same way. It was written that Hogir drank a lot, and there was two per mille alcohol in his blood. It is claimed that Hogir actually fainted before hanging himself, and died not from suffocation but from heart failure.”

Hogir Alay while at the refugee camp in Germany

He went through illegal routes

Hogir Alay went from Mardin to Germany through illegal routes a year and a half before he died, in 2022. According to his family’s account, while Hogir was in Mardin, he participated in protests for Kobanî and was investigated for this. In the face of both this investigation and the difficulties he experienced due to refusing mandatory military service, he decided to go to Germany with his wife. It is claimed that before his death, Hogir repeatedly complained about poor living conditions, discrimination, and violence perpetrated by security personnel and social workers, but these complaints were not forwarded to the relevant authorities.

Investigation document showing Hogir Alay’s official date of death

His brother Rêber Alay confirmed that his brother had problems with camp authorities: “One day, in front of everyone, Hogir says, ‘if I am killed here, either they killed me or I will kill the security guard.’ They couldn’t get along.” In the report prepared by the Hogir Alay Initiative, which was established to continue the search for justice after Hogir Alay’s death, it is stated that Alay complained about constant room changes and psychological pressure during his stay at the camp. It is alleged that security personnel subjected him to systematic harassment and physical attacks.

Last location information taken from Hogir Alay’s phone

Complaints were not forwarded on the grounds of “protecting the institution’s reputation”

The claim that Alay wanted to convey these complaints to the management unit, but the translators at the camp refused to translate these statements on the grounds of “protecting the reputation of the institution,” is included in the file. In the investigation file, criminal records regarding Hogir Alay’s past and turmoils in his private life have been added by the authorities as ‘psychological factors triggering suicide.’ However, according to refugee rights defenders and the family, the personal crises an individual is in do not alleviate the camp management’s responsibility to ‘protect the right to life’; on the contrary, it increases the obligation of supervision and protection toward an individual at risk.

The case is closed quickly in Germany

It is understood from the information reflected in the investigation file that an autopsy of Hogir Alay was performed in Germany. The autopsy was conducted on November 9, 2023, at the Institute of Forensic Medicine at Saarland University in Homburg. Regarding the family’s claims that an autopsy was not performed, the Kaiserslautern Chief Public Prosecutor stated in a 2025 letter that this claim does not reflect the truth, emphasizing that comprehensive autopsy and toxicology reports are available in the file.

Despite this, the family demands an autopsy in Turkey as well: “After he came to Turkey, we didn’t think of anything at first. Then after thinking a bit, we took him out of the ground. We had an autopsy done. According to the autopsy, it is said his front teeth had fallen out. One of his bones was broken, his heart and some of his organs were decomposed, some were missing. It is said the higher board of the Forensic Medicine Institute in Turkey will give the final result. A year and a half later, after the autopsy, Germany sent its own autopsy to the prosecutor here. What do the authorities here say now? We will put Germany’s and our own autopsy side by side. Let’s see what comes out. In the end, they also made their own autopsy reports like the one in Germany. Now they also say Hogir hanged himself,” says Rêber Alay.

From the preliminary autopsy report of the Istanbul Forensic Medicine Institute regarding Hogir Alay

His father Abdülvahap Alay filed a criminal complaint with German institutions through the Kızıltepe Chief Public Prosecutor’s Office. In the complaint, he claims that there was no possibility of their child committing suicide and that he might have been a victim of murder. Despite this application, the Zweibrücken Chief Public Prosecutor’s Office stated that Hogir took his own life, claiming that he did not commit suicide under the influence of someone else, but due to his internal problems. Furthermore, it noted that there was no information or findings regarding the possibility of him being killed by others and closed the investigation it conducted on the grounds that no criminal situation was detected.

In the investigation file in question, it is stated that no direct connection could be established between Alay’s past frictions with security personnel and the death event. The German prosecutor’s office points to the fact that Hogir Alay personally declared in his statement dated August 4, 2023, that he had “made peace with the security personnel” as evidence that conflicts within the camp had no link to the suicide decision. According to the information provided by Rêber Alay, some of his brother’s personal belongings and phone have not yet been delivered to them. The investigation opened in Turkey continues.

Kumak: They will kill me

Gökhan Kumak, like Hogir Alay, committed suicide in the camp where he lived in Germany. Kumak went to Germany through illegal routes in January 2023. He was 34 years old. He was a long-haul truck driver. He used to carry cargo to and from Iran and Iraq. According to his family’s account, he decided to go to Germany saying, “I don’t have a profession, I can’t see a future, let me go to Germany, maybe I’ll get residency and build a good life for myself.” After staying in the first camp where refugees are accepted for the first 8 months, Kumak was sent to a camp called a heim where he would stay permanently. Kumak, who stayed here for 6 months, constantly called his family during this time, claiming that he would be killed. The family states that their child’s psychology deteriorated greatly due to this situation. His brother Eser Kumak told Niha+: “Before he died, he called my father. He says, ‘I’m afraid the German police will bring trouble upon me. They will kill me, they will burn me.’ Something happened to him in the heim, I don’t know that. He suffered a lot in the camp. He said the German police set Afghans upon him.”

Before losing his life, Gökhan calls his father and says that they have ruined his psychology, that it is a very serious matter, and asks them to save him.

Gökhan lost his life on April 2, 2024.

However, his family was informed on April 9: “One day we couldn’t get news. He had a friend. I called him, I told him we couldn’t reach my brother. I said, don’t you see Gökhan? He said, ‘don’t call me,’ he said, ‘I don’t know where Gökhan is.’ There was someone else next to him. He said, his voice came to me, ‘tell them the police came and took Gökhan and Gökhan died.’ The other kid said, ‘don’t involve me, don’t involve me, don’t call me,’ and after day he blocked me. He was an Afghan boy. But he was using a number from Turkey.”

Gökhan Kumak

Eser Kumak stated that official authorities from Germany did not reach them. Gökhan Kumak’s body, like Hogir Alay’s body, was seen hanging from a tree in the forest. It was sent to Turkey on April 14, 2024. In the autopsy performed, it was written that he had a heart attack. However, the family does not believe this finding. Eser Kumak states that due to the heavy situation they experienced, they could not think to request an autopsy in Turkey as well. The family provided the information that no investigation has been opened in Turkey regarding Gökhan Kumak.

Someone from Germany calls the family: Don’t go to the ECHR On April 18, 2026, someone who identified herself as Ute Classen and stated she was a social service official in the city of Bad Wildungen sent voice messages to the family via WhatsApp from Germany. In the voice recording sent in German, the person states that Gökhan had psychological problems, that everyone tried to help him, but he committed suicide nonetheless. The voice recording also says, “I would not recommend you to apply to the European Court, because here in Bad Wildungen, nothing happened to justify this.”

Gökhan Kumak

Pena-Ger: Suicide attempts of refugees are not being recorded

Pena-Ger is a non-profit non-governmental organization providing online counseling services for refugees throughout Germany. Dealing with the files of Gökhan Kumak and Hogir Alay, the organization is preparing to restart the legal process for both files. According to Pena-Ger, a series of death cases occurring among Kurdish refugees in Germany in recent years, which are mostly evaluated as suicides, are known. However, according to the organization, there is no precise statistical record specific to this group, and they argue that this lack of data points to a more fundamental problem: that suicides or suicide attempts among refugees in general are not systematically recorded in Germany.

According to DRK Rheinland-Pfalz, which operates as part of the Red Cross in the German state of Rhineland-Palatinate, a large portion of these cases remain invisible because they are not recognized or documented as a result of structural problems. This invisibility leads political decision-makers to not take the need for adequate psychosocial support for refugees seriously enough, and this situation leads to serious consequences. The organization states that despite this, structural patterns are identified through individual cases and media and civil society reports.

“Problems of Kurdish refugees remain invisible”

Pena-Ger draws attention to another point: neither the German Federal Statistical Office nor the Federal Office for Migration and Refugees makes a distinction based on ethnic origin. Therefore, the specific problems experienced by Kurdish refugees in particular remain statistically invisible. Especially collective accommodation centers, deportation detention, and similar restrictive conditions negatively affect psychological health. Isolation, lack of privacy, and constant fear of deportation deepen existing crises and increase suicidal thoughts. At the same time, the psychological problems of refugees are frequently distorted in the public eye through a security perspective.

Pena-Ger believes the causes of the suicide cases and attempts are structural. In addition to inadequate psychological support, the failure to forward complaints, insufficient protection mechanisms, and staff shortages, it is stated that living conditions within the acceptance system lead to re-traumatization. Long asylum processes, collective housing, lack of privacy, and constant uncertainty deepen existing traumas. The legal situation regarding access to health services is also thought to be a critical factor. It is stated that the Asylbewerberleistungsgesetz (AsylbLG) seriously restricts access to psychotherapy in particular. In the first 36 months, only acute illnesses are treated. This leads to many refugees being unable to access the necessary treatment.

Beybûn Şeker from Pena-Ger states that as an institution, they try to offer active support: “Every day we encounter people who experience suicidal thoughts or live in deep despair without support. In Germany, the mental health of refugees usually comes to the agenda for a short time only after sensational events. Millions of refugees are portrayed as threats by being generalized, but this is not the solution.”

Kurdish börek or “Küt” börek? A story from Frankfurt

Nearly 40 years ago, in an era where “Kurdish börek” was being rebranded as “Küt börek,” a lawsuit was filed against a baker named Yusuf in İzmit simply because he wrote “Kurdish börek” on his shop sign.

Photo: Ferid Demirel

In Frankfurt, at the intersection of Battonstrasse and Langestrasse, sits a modest establishment: Dağlayan Börekçilik. It is run by Yusuf Dağlayan, a man from Bingöl. His life offers a striking window into the ongoing debates regarding Kurds in Turkey—and even into a matter as seemingly simple as the name of a pastry.

One morning in Frankfurt, while searching for an open breakfast spot, I noticed a place with “Börekçilik” written on its sign right at the junction of two streets. I stepped inside. It was still early; the shop was empty.

Behind the counter stood a middle-aged man—balding, with a slight belly—who greeted me in German. After a brief exchange, he mentioned he was from Bingöl. I ordered a börek and sat down. Once he finished his work behind the counter, the owner came over and sat across from me.

After the usual introductions, I brought up a debate that had recently resurfaced in Turkey: I asked what he thought about the attempts to rename “Kurdish börek” as “Küt börek.”

Yusuf immediately began telling a story from his past:

“I am Yusuf Dağlayan,” he said. “I am from the hamlet of Bağkıyan, in the village of Bilece, between Kiğı and Pülümür. You can’t just call it Bingöl. Kiğı used to belong to Dersim; it was only attached to Bingöl after 1948. Pülümür and Dersim are closer to us anyway. I was detained in 1982. Tortured. This was the September 12 period. Both my father and I. Back then, it was the left-right conflict; it was before the PKK. My older brother was a student, but he fled abroad. The state put pressure on us and took us in. Because of this, at the end of 1984, I had to move to İzmit.”

Unable to find steady work, he took matters into his own hands:

“I started selling börek from a mobile cart in front of the SEKA paper factory. We had no money. Just börek. So we made Kurdish börek. On the first day, they beat me. ‘You can’t stay here, you can’t sell here,’ they said. The next day, a massive fight broke out, but eventually, we took control of that spot.”

According to Yusuf, the factory provided a constant flow of people ten thousand entering and ten thousand exiting:

“Then we expanded the business. We opened a shop. We had five mobile carts and our own production facility.”

As we spoke, an acquaintance of his entered. After exchanging greetings, he sat with us, and Yusuf continued:

“In İzmit, they used to call me ‘Kurdish Yusuf.’ This was around 1987. After I opened the shop, I received a court summons one day. I went to court. The judge asked: ‘Why did you write Kurdish börek on your sign and your menu?”

Photo: Ferid Demirel

“I said: There is a man named Mehmet from our village who went to Istanbul. Among us Kurdish Alevis, we make “perğe” every New Year for Hızır. It is an oily bread that we share with people. Muslims sacrifice animals; we do this. The judge told me, ‘You are being divisive.’”

Yusuf smiled.

“I said: There is Laz börek, Circassian, Bosnian… why shouldn’t there be Kurdish börek?”

From there, Yusuf moved into another story one he also told in court about “Kurdish Mehmet the Porter,” a figure who has since become part of the pastry’s folklore:

“Mehmet was Kurdish. He was poor. He went to Istanbul, to Kasımpaşa, by ship. He worked as a porter. He had made perğe at home and took it with him to eat near the Galata Bridge. People saw what he was eating. They liked it. They gave him money and bought the kilor (rings) from him. He ended up going hungry that day but realized he had made good money.”

So, he began making more.

“He started selling them. A hundred, two hundred a day. He saw he was earning more than he did from portering. He rented a shop in Karaköy from someone from Trabzon. That shop is still there. He built a bakery. That oven is still running. He passed away long ago. His name was Kurdish Mehmet. People called him Rengo. This was 250 years ago.”

After Yusuf told this story and made his defense, the judge took a ten-minute recess. When the session resumed, he simply said, “You may go.” The case was dropped.

However, months later, another summons arrived. “This time it was a different judge,” Yusuf said. “He said: ‘You are spreading separatism. Your cart has yellow, red, and green colors; these are separatist colors. This is PKK propaganda.’”

“I said: If these colors are separatist, then from Thrace to Kars, from Trabzon to Antalya and Izmir… is the state separatist too? The judge frowned. ‘How so?’ he asked. I told him: I see traffic lights everywhere. Those colors are beautiful. That is why I used them on my shop. If I am a separatist, then the state is a separatist too.”

The judge paused and then said: “You may go.” The file was closed.

Yusuf continued working in İzmit until 1993. Eventually, as political cases persisted and an arrest warrant was issued, he became a fugitive. He lived underground

Berlin’s “Socialists Cemetery”: The dead warn us!

In the Socialists’ Cemetery, the revolutionaries of the German Socialist Movement engraved in the history books lie side by side with nameless heroes.

Photo: Wikipedia

As you walk through the silence of a large park in Berlin’s Friedrichsfelde district, you come across three words engraved on a stone: “Die Toten mahnen uns.” In English, “The dead warn us.” With this phrase, you suddenly feel as though an entirely different era has begun, with slogans and marches echoing around you; this is Zentralfriedhof Friedrichsfelde. In other words, the Socialists’ Cemetery

When the Berlin Municipality purchased this 25-hectare site in 1880, it commissioned landscape architect Hermann Mächtig to design the area as a garden cemetery. At the time of its opening, it became the first municipal cemetery open to all Berliners, regardless of faith. No distinction was made between rich and poor… The city’s poor were buried here, with the municipality covering their funeral expenses. For this reason, it came to be known as the “Armenfriedhof,” meaning the “Cemetery of the Poor.”

On one side, the cemetery is home to the well-kept and magnificent tombs of the city’s wealthy families, while on the other lie the graves of thousands of poor Berliners, some lacking even a name… Here, those whose only possession in life was their bodies are “equalized” with the rich in death.

And it is also here that the revolutionaries of the German Socialist Movement, etched into history books, lie side by side with nameless heroes.

A red marble plaque inscribed with the names of 327 men and women who died fighting against fascism between 1933 and 1945. Photo / Wikipedia
The Funeral That Changed the Cemetery’s Fate

August 7, 1900… Wilhelm Liebknecht, one of the pioneers of the German Socialist movement, suffered a stroke while returning home after working late at the socialist newspaper Vorwärts, which he had been an editor for years, and died at the age of 74. On August 12, Berlin witnessed one of the largest funerals in its history. Tens of thousands of people joined the procession stretching from the city center to Friedrichsfelde Cemetery.

This ceremony and the crowd in attendance did not merely bid farewell to Liebknecht. They also altered the cemetery’s fate. Liebknecht’s burial here instantly transformed Friedrichsfelde into a shrine for the labor movement. His grave, standing like a monument, became a gathering point for generations of social democrats, socialists, and anti-fascists. Subsequently, other leaders of the labor movement, such as Ignaz Auer, Paul Singer, Carl Legien, and Theodor Leipart, were also laid to rest here. Thus, Friedrichsfelde took on the name “Socialists’ Cemetery” and was cemented into the symbolic map of the people’s struggle in Berlin. Thereafter, each new burial added new layers of meaning to the cemetery, accompanied by inscriptions carved into stones and newly erected statues. Each statue became a silent but screaming manifesto.

Rosa is Here: “I Was, I Am, I Shall Be”

January 1919 was a time when the streets of Berlin became the scene of the Spartacist Uprising, echoing with clashes between the Spartacists and Freikorps units (paramilitary forces). On January 15, 1919, more than a hundred revolutionaries, including Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht, were massacred by Freikorps troops. Some died in clashes, while others were executed by firing squad in extrajudicial killings…

The ceremony attended by high-ranking East German leaders to commemorate Rosa Luxemburg in January 1989. Photo / Wikipedia

The bodies of Karl Liebknecht and 33 others were buried in the Socialists’ Cemetery on January 25. Karl was now in the same cemetery as his father, Wilhelm Liebknecht. Rosa, however, was made to disappear after being killed. It took months to find her body. She was eventually found in May 1919 in the Landwehr Canal, where she had been thrown, and was buried in this cemetery. Rosa was one of the revolutionaries that the fascists feared the most, so that they wanted her body to be lost and for her to be forgotten. But they failed. Rosa is now in the Socialists’ Cemetery, and through her final article, she declares: “Tomorrow, the revolution will already rise up resoundingly and proclaim to your horror with trumpets: I was, I am, I shall be!

Destruction and Reconstruction

The year 1926 marked a new turning point for the Socialists’ Cemetery. On June 13, 1926, the “Revolutionsdenkmal” (Monument to the Revolution) was unveiled. Built as a red brick cube, it symbolized the resilience of the revolutionary movement and the revolutionaries who were lined up against a wall and executed by a firing squad. However, the Nazi regime destroyed this memorial of the revolution with dynamite in 1935.

Following the Second World War, the German Democratic Republic (GDR), established in East Berlin, sought to once again glorify the symbols of the labor movement. On January 14, 1951, a new site was opened in the center of the Socialists’ Cemetery: the “Gedenkstätte der Sozialisten” (Memorial to the Socialists). A large porphyry stone was erected right in the middle of the memorial. Only three words are inscribed on the obelisk: “Die Toten mahnen uns” (The dead warn us.) A simple, brief sentence, yet one that strikes every reader to the core…

The monument, designed by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe in 1926 and built in memory of the fallen Spartacists, was destroyed by the Third Reich after 1935. Photo / Wikipedia

During the GDR era, the monument became an indispensable venue for state ceremonies. In the final years of East Germany, while the cemetery became a burial ground for party elites and the state bureaucracy, it was closed to new burials following the fall of the Berlin Wall and reunification of Germany. The existing graves remain standing, preserving history like a stone memory.

The Call Echoing in the Silence

Although the crowds at the official ceremonies held in the Socialists’ Cemetery dwindled after the fall of the Berlin Wall, thousands of people still come here every January, braving the cold, to commemorate Rosa and Karl. The graves of the 327 anti-fascists in the outer semicircle of the cemetery, who took part in resistance networks during the Hitler era, are not forgotten either. Among them are workers, trade unionists, teachers, and ordinary people. Ordinary, but brave people…

The sentence carved in stone continues to ring in the ears of visitors leaving the cemetery: “The dead warn us!” This is not merely a reminder. It is a call that carries the lessons of the past into today and tomorrow. And everyone asks themselves this question: Do the dead in our geography warn us too?

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