The goal of the project is to remind about the importance of family values, to reveal the beauty and talents of married women.
Aigul Batyrbekova was born on February 15, 2001, in the city of Bazar-Korgon in the Jalal-Abad region. She currently lives in Moscow with her husband and youngest daughter.
Batyrbekova graduated from a legal college. However, due to life circumstances, she did not work in her field—she became more interested in handicrafts and sewing. She is currently on maternity leave. "My husband is Eleman Talaybek uulu. He was born on December 7, 1997, in the village of Ak-Suu in the Issyk-Kul region. In Moscow, he works as a motorist in the car repair sector. I can say that he is a true hard worker, a man with 'golden hands'.
Our story of how we met is also unusual. I studied at a legal college in Bishkek—I enrolled right after the 9th grade. After classes, I would go to my mom's workplace in the evening and help with packing. One day, when I arrived at the workshop, I saw a new guy who was an ironer. He looked very neat and clean. At that moment, I felt something, but I didn't pay much attention to it. He didn't work there long—less than a week—and then he left. We didn't even really talk, and I quickly forgot about it.
My father passed away from illness when my sister and I were still little, and we were raised by our maternal grandmother. Later, my mom entrusted me to my uncle and aunt and went to work in Moscow—she was in her second year of college at the time. My mom wanted us to lack for nothing, so she had to leave. One day, I received a message on social media. I looked—it was Eleman Talaybek uulu. I barely recognized him; we exchanged messages: 'How are you?'. That's how we kept in touch—once a year, sometimes less," she says.
Later, Aigul came to Moscow to see her mother and found out that Eleman also lived there. "We agreed to meet on March 8. He lived on the outskirts of the city and couldn't come himself due to document issues, so he invited me over. I wasn't shy and went. We met, talked a little, and I left. The next day, he directly said: 'I will marry you.' He didn't even ask if I would marry him. I replied: 'I just turned 18; I need to build a career,'—I flirted a bit. But he didn't back down and even managed to write to my mom—he convinced her too. In fact, I liked him as well. I might have shown a lack of sympathy outwardly, but inside I was very happy. So we first met on March 8, and we got married on March 24.
The wedding was modest. My husband spent only 10,000 rubles: 5,000 rubles for the bride's farewell, earrings, and a bouquet of flowers. He came for me only with our 'ökül ata' and one friend and took me away. Regarding the mahr, I also took into account my husband's situation: we told the mullah to decide himself. He blessed us and set the mahr at 5,000 rubles in cash or gold. That's how our family life began. At first, everything was good. But over time, misunderstandings started to arise. Once, I got offended, packed a suitcase, and 'left.' When my husband returned from work and saw that I was gone, he found a note: I left a letter on the nightstand and took off the earrings he gave me. He immediately started calling, but I didn't answer; I was stubborn. In fact, I didn't even go home—I just walked around with the suitcase near our place.
Eventually, I picked up the phone. He asked in a trembling voice: 'Where are you?'. I saw tears in his eyes, and my heart softened. I told him where I was. We searched for each other for about an hour and couldn't meet, but then we finally found each other.
At that time, my husband, out of anger, broke a glass tile near the bus stop. People called the police, and they took him away. I cried and said I was pregnant, but they didn't listen to us. I called our representative, and we began searching for the police station. Then they called us and told us where he was. Ökül ata took me home and went to get my husband. After that day, I promised myself: no matter what happens, I will never say 'I’m leaving' again. Since then, we try to understand and support each other," Batyrbekova shared.
Her two older daughters live with their grandparents in Issyk-Kul—they are growing up under their care. "When I first went to my husband's relatives, I got acquainted with the traditions. The customs themselves weren't hard for me, but I saw the 'jügünüü' ritual for the first time and was very surprised. My father-in-law immediately said: 'In our house, no one bows every day—don't bow to anyone.' So, when we lived together, I didn't do that. But when I come back after a long absence, out of respect for the elders, I bow. Today, my husband and I have three daughters. The oldest is 6 years old, the middle one is 3 years old, and the youngest will soon turn 1 year old. My husband always dreamed of having daughters and prayed to God for this. Thank God, his wish came true—our home is filled with the laughter of girls. Now I dedicate all my free time to my family, cooking, and taking care of the house," Aigul reported.
In the future, she and her husband want to return to Kyrgyzstan, build a house in their homeland, and open a small business. "Life has many difficulties, but the main thing is to understand each other, support one another, and move forward together," Aigul Batyrbekova shared.
