I am God's beloved servant: I pay no taxes! I don't tell the truth! What does working hard mean?

Dear readers, last sunday I wrote an article titled "In Our Country, Those Who Pay Taxes Are Considered Fools," which sparked numerous emails. But what I had requested was for opposition MPs and parties to hold meetings and explain to our esteemed public who exactly isn’t paying taxes. Our MPs are either lounging in their summer houses, vacationing at seven-star hotels, or watching the Olympics in France. And here I was, naively believing that opposition parties would oppose something. I've come to realize that in this country, everyone finds their way and gets by just fine. I've also learned not to be surprised by scenes like this: A man walks into a bank with a trash bag, and when it's his turn, he dumps 10 million TL into the bank's open safe. The tellers simply count the money in the machine—no one asks, "Where did you get this money?" Even if you brought in 10 billion, no one would question it!**

Turkiye is an open heaven for black money. But it’s not just black money; it’s a paradise for tax evaders too! Take, for example, a jeweler in the Grand Bazaar—how much tax has he paid? Just 16,000 TL. Applauses. And guess what? Ülker (one of the richest owners) hasn’t paid taxes either. The taxes of companies like Limak, Cengiz Holding, Sabancı Holding, and many construction firms have either been forgiven by Tayyip Erdoğan or they’ve claimed losses to avoid paying. What’s odd is that we have this national oath, "I am Turkish, honest, and hardworking"

We love our oath, but are our actions in line with it? This is what I’m curious about. In a country where those who pay taxes are considered fools, are we truly living up to the oath? We resemble ourselves; no one should be offended by that! 

Years ago, curses flew around in Parliament—remember that? The Parliament’s imam thought this couldn’t go on and decided to warn MPs and Parliament staff about swearing during Friday prayers. He said, “Cursing is a great sin in Islam,” and our elected MPs listened to him like lambs. I caught the moment when the MPs were approached by microphones as they left the mosque. “The imam is right, cursing is one of the greatest sins. When you curse, you’re essentially cursing your mother. We’re grateful to the imam.” And this is where I lost it. If we elect MPs who need lessons from an imam, something must be wrong with us. 

Let’s continue. In İzmir and Bodrum, it rained, and the whole place was flooded. Shopkeepers were sweeping water out of their stores. One woman shopkeeper, whose store was underwater, cried out: “It’s been like this for ten years! Whenever it rains, we’re submerged!” If you’ve kept the mayor who hasn’t installed a proper drainage system for ten years, then you’ve made a habit of playing the victim! So stop complaining!

It snowed in Istanbul—a national disaster! Warnings were issued: Don’t go out without snow tires! A minibus driver passionately exclaimed, “I’m stuck on the road! What’s going on?” The interviewer asked, “Did you have snow tires?” “No, but the state should take care of this!” Now, this is a private vehicle; it belongs to a company, which means the company should spend a little to ensure the safety of the people it transports by fitting snow tires. Why should the state intervene? But the driver, instead of telling his boss, “I can’t drive today without snow tires, I can’t risk the lives of the people I’m transporting,” immediately found the culprit: the state! Such an easy excuse. 

We’re so hardworking—take a village in the east, for example. To reach the village, you drive until the main road ends, then there’s a five-kilometer dirt road. When it rains, cars can’t pass. The villagers are in the coffeehouse playing cards; no one says, “Let’s get together and fix this road.” “Forget it, let the state do it!”

For example, Alevi citizens oppose compulsory religious education classes, and they’re right. But how many Alevi parents have applied for their children to be exempt from these classes or taken the issue to court? I wonder. If even 1,000 people had done this, the problem of compulsory religious education would have been solved. But Alevi citizens didn’t do this. Their children quietly attend these compulsory classes. So, stop complaining!

Where I live, construction madness continues at full speed. Those who don’t have a building project are practically in mourning. Let’s hope for the best.

Now, a question: Why was Instagram banned? Supposedly, a key Hamas figure was killed in Tehran. We mourned. But the mourning is just rubbish —the real reason is that companies, holdings, and individuals who don’t pay taxes are being exposed. They don’t want it to spread! In the past, books were banned; now it’s Instagram! I wonder what’s next?

Meanwhile, our country is facing a severe drought. Farmers are blocking roads with their tractors. In Çukurova, producers have received notices: “We can’t provide water; don’t plant crops!”

These are our good days!