While analysing archival footage, a single frame caught my attention: a three-year-old girl holding a doll with an engraved, faceless expression. The footage, captured by a woman in the early 1990s in South Kurdistan, offers more than personal memory, it holds fragments of collective history. The doll, ordinarily a symbol of innocence and play, became something else entirely: a vessel of silence, societal imprint, and inherited trauma. In my response, I created an installation using dolls with similarly engraved faces, each one stuffed with human hair. The doll in this context is no longer just an object of play, but a “thing” carrying the weight of cultural memory, gendered violence, and erasure. It reflects how facelessness becomes familiar, how absence is taught early, passed down, normalised. Through this work, I explore how such everyday materials can hold and transmit the unseen forces of patriarchy, offering a space for reflection on how identity, power, and silence are formed.