FOR LIFE

I was drawn to this story not because of its political context, but because of the quiet determination of the women at its center. Like women everywhere, the wives of Palestinian prisoners dream of motherhood. What sets their experience apart is the extraordinary cost of pursuing such an ordinary desire.

From the beginning, the greatest challenge was building trust. As a male director, accessing such intimate stories required time and patience. For a long period, I chose not to turn on the camera at all. I listened, spent time with the women, and allowed relationships to develop naturally. Gradually, I was no longer perceived as a "director," but as someone present in their everyday lives. The film became possible through this trust.

The women agreed to participate not because they wanted to expose themselves, but because making their experience visible carried both human and political meaning for them. They did not see what they were living through as merely personal, but as part of a collective reality shared by many women. Allowing the camera into such a private — and even illegal — process was a risk, but one they chose to take in order to leave a testimony, a trace, a memory.

I followed Hind over several years, intermittently but consistently. It was important for me to respect the natural rhythm of her life and to allow events to unfold on their own terms. I did not want to turn her into a symbol or a spokesperson. Instead, I stayed close to the life she was actually living — through waiting, repeated attempts, moments of hope, and the quiet resolve required simply to continue. The film emerged from the accumulation of this time.

Choosing an observational approach was central to the film's form. I wanted a non-intrusive camera, because life itself was already dramatic enough. I deliberately avoided interviews, voice-over, or explanatory commentary, and chose not to use music to guide emotion. My intention was to allow meaning to arise from actions, silences, and lived dialogue, and for the audience to witness events directly rather than be told how to interpret them.

Filming in the West Bank and East Jerusalem brought constant challenges. Restrictions on movement, uncertainty, and security concerns often shaped when and how we could film. Working with a very small crew and remaining as invisible as possible was essential, both for safety and for protecting intimacy. These conditions ultimately reinforced the film's restrained and intimate cinematic language.

In For Life, motherhood is not framed as an achievement or a resolution, but as a fragile hope — shaped by power, control, and enforced absence. Refusing easy answers or closure, the film creates a shared space of witnessing, leaving the audience with a lived reality that extends beyond the frame.

— Ahmet Seven