“The Overlooked Florist: Neriman’s World”

Istanbul / Beylikdüzü Tüyap – Born in Adana in 1968, 57 years old “I don’t just sell flowers. There is sweat in every bunch, a memory in every leaf.” That woman we pass by every day, sometimes without even looking at her... Her name is Neriman.Her surname is Topçu.Maybe you know her from her beautifully prepared tulip bouquets and fragrant daisies. Maybe you just passed by her saying “florist lady”.But this story is the story of the woman behind those bouquets. A Life That Started in Adana. Neriman Topçu was born in Adana in 1968. She was the oldest daughter of a large Romani family. Her school years were short. She started working in the flower business when she was only 8 years old due to financial difficulties to support her family. When she wiped the petal of the first carnation she held in her hand as a child, she was actually erasing the trace of her destiny. Until she was 15, she would go to the wholesaler early in the morning, sort the flowers, package them, and help her mother. Of course she had dreams. But at that age, even dreaming was a luxury.

“The Overlooked Florist: Neriman’s World”

She was married off at the age of 17. “What I Wanted They didn’t even ask,” she says. She spent her youth selling flowers on the streets. On the sides of highways, at subway exits, in front of hospitals, at bus stops… Wherever there was an empty space, she waited with her flowers. “The sun scorches in the summer, and I freeze to the bone in the winter,” she says. But she never gave up. She had two children from her marriage. Now she has a grandchild. They live in a two-room shanty house with a leaky roof in Esenyurt. When it rains, the dripping water fills the bucket. “The sound of that bucket is like a lullaby to me now,” she says with a bitter smile.

A Life Growing with Flowers, Years Kneaded with Hardship. Neriman has been a florist for 49 years. She gets up early every morning and goes to the wholesaler. She tries to choose the freshest flowers. Because the lifespan of flowers is short. If she can’t sell one day, those flowers rot and her labor goes to waste. “If there is no sale one day, there is no income that day,” she says. Most of the time, her income is not even half of the minimum wage It doesn’t. But on special days it can reach 20-25 thousand liras. That’s maybe 5 days a year. And the police… Her biggest fear. “I don’t have a stall. I don’t have anywhere to run. Sometimes they take my flowers away. I can’t shout or object...”

A Woman Ignored and Excluded Because She Is a Roman.According to Neriman, the heaviest burden is not the cold. It’s not the hunger either. It’s people’s stares. “When they see me on the bus, there are people who hold their bags tightly. I’m not a thief. I sell flowers with my labor and the sweat of my brow. But because I’m a Roma, they belittle me by calling me a ‘gypsy’. They look down on me.”When she goes to the tea garden with her granddaughter, they look at her as if they won’t pay for her. “Sometimes they don’t even bring the order because they think we won’t make any money,” she says.If her granddaughter plays with a child on the street, she is immediately warned. “They don’t like us. No matter what we do, we are always second-class citizens in their eyes.”

"I wish I could study..." He had to leave primary school unfinished. But he always had a regret. “If I had studied, I would have wanted to be a teacher. I would have wanted to teach children love and humanity. Because teaching is a sacred profession. Maybe then they wouldn’t have treated me like this.” Those hands that are thought to be selling flowers…Actually, they carry the traces of a lifetime, cold, tiredness and hope. That woman that most of us pass by every day at the Tüyap metrobus stop and don’t notice: Neriman Topçu. You may know her from her fragrant daisies and beautifully tied tulip bouquets. But what she sells is not just a flower; it is the reflection of morning sleeplessness, the redness on her face in the cold of winter, and the sweat flowing in the summer heat.

Her flowers are cheaper than those sold in stores. If a chrysanthemum is 500 TL in a shop, she sells it for 200 TL. But she is still not preferred. Because she doesn’t have a shop. Because her card won’t work. Because people don’t see her. She loves her job; because it is the only profession she has known throughout her life. But she still doesn’t recommend it to anyone. Because she knows that people who don’t go to school are not respected. She couldn’t send her children to school, but her grandchild goes to school proud. Neriman is not just someone who sells flowers... She is a huge struggle that a society ignores, but hides among its flowers. A strong woman who lives with a bunch of life, a pinch of honor.