Nar­in is caught in a des­per­ate strug­gle for sur­vival in the harsh land­scape sur­round­ing Sin­jar Moun­tain, an area deeply sacred to the Yazi­di peo­ple. The moun­tain, long con­sid­ered a liv­ing enti­ty in ancient Mesopotami­an cul­ture, is more than just a phys­i­cal fea­ture to the Yazidis; it is a sym­bol of their con­nec­tion to the divine and their refuge from dan­ger. The belief in the mountain’s sacred­ness stems from its role as a bridge between earth and the heav­ens, a place of shel­ter dur­ing times of great dis­tress. The Shar­fadin Tem­ple, perched upon this hal­lowed ground, is a tes­ta­ment to cen­turies of devo­tion, its pale yel­low stone struc­ture stand­ing resilient amidst the tur­moil. Yet, as the Yazi­di fam­i­lies climb the moun­tain to escape vio­lence, they are met with over­whelm­ing adver­si­ty, includ­ing the relent­less heat and the fear that the sanc­tu­ary they seek may be slip­ping fur­ther out of reach.

As Nar­in and her fam­i­ly ascend the moun­tain, the weight of their sit­u­a­tion becomes unbear­able. The swel­ter­ing sun beats down on them, drain­ing their ener­gy and hope, as they car­ry the heavy bur­den of their loss and uncer­tain­ty. Nar­in’s grand­moth­er, a pil­lar of strength, offers com­fort and love, but even her resolve begins to waver under the pres­sure of the dire cir­cum­stances. She tends to Nar­in and the oth­ers, pro­vid­ing the last few drops of water, but knows that the hours ahead are uncer­tain. The elder­ly, already weak­ened from the oppres­sive heat and lack of nour­ish­ment, are the first to fall, suc­cumb­ing to the ele­ments in the harsh­est of ways. This scene, paint­ed with sor­row and dev­as­ta­tion, sym­bol­izes the pro­found real­i­ty of the family’s sit­u­a­tion. The toll of the jour­ney weighs heav­i­ly on the entire group, yet despite it all, they cling to the hope that sur­vival is pos­si­ble.

As night falls, the tem­per­a­ture drops, offer­ing a fleet­ing moment of relief from the oppres­sive heat. The fam­i­ly gath­ers close­ly, try­ing to find warmth and com­fort in the pres­ence of one anoth­er. In this vul­ner­a­ble moment, Narin’s grand­moth­er imparts one final piece of wisdom—teaching her to con­nect her emo­tions with water, view­ing it as a form of heal­ing and release. Yet even as hope flick­ers with the pos­si­bil­i­ty of aid, the fam­i­lies are left to fend for them­selves. News of Amer­i­can sup­port begins to spread through the air, but the real­i­ty of receiv­ing help becomes increas­ing­ly remote. The grand­moth­er, unwill­ing to let despair over­whelm her, sends young boys to retrieve water from a near­by foun­tain, but their trag­ic deaths at the hands of ISIS mil­i­tants mark a turn­ing point in their already dire sit­u­a­tion. The loss of the boys only serves to high­light the unre­lent­ing vio­lence that sur­rounds them, push­ing the fam­i­ly into fur­ther iso­la­tion and despair.

The grand­moth­er, unde­terred by the loss­es she has wit­nessed, takes it upon her­self to search for water, believ­ing that despite the bar­ren land­scape, there may still be hope beneath the earth. With a forked branch in hand, she begins her search, dri­ven by love and des­per­a­tion, deter­mined to secure life for those who depend on her. But the harsh­ness of the world she faces is made stark­ly clear as ISIS mil­i­tants observe her every move, mock­ing her efforts and belit­tling the belief that water could still be found in such an unfor­giv­ing place. In a moment of fear, Nar­in appears, hav­ing fol­lowed her grand­moth­er in an act of love and sol­i­dar­i­ty, deter­mined to share the bur­den of sur­vival. The two women now face not only the ever-present threat of vio­lence but also the emo­tion­al and phys­i­cal toll of their jour­ney. Their lives hang in the bal­ance as they con­front the stark real­i­ty of their sit­u­a­tion, but through their shared vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty, a bond of strength and deter­mi­na­tion is forged. Togeth­er, they con­tin­ue to hope, to fight, and to endure the seem­ing­ly insur­mount­able odds that threat­en to over­whelm them.