Turkey’s registered drone count has climbed to 88,000, marking a 12 percent increase over the past year, according to Transport and Infrastructure Minister Abdulkadir Uraloğlu. The surge reflects expanding adoption in agriculture, emergency response, infrastructure inspection, and even wedding photography signaling a quiet revolution in how Turks work, connect, and see their world from above.
The figures, drawn from the Civil Aviation General Directorate’s official registry, show that nearly 60% of new drone registrations in 2023 came from non-military, civilian users. “This isn’t just about technology,” the minister said at a drone safety summit in Istanbul. “It’s about empowering farmers, rescuers, and small businesses with eyes in the sky.” Official data also reveals a 27% rise in certified drone pilots, now totaling over 42,000 nationwide.
In the Aegean hills of Muğla, farmer İsmail Yılmaz guides his drone over rows of olive trees, its camera scanning for irrigation leaks. “Before, I’d walk five hours a day checking pipes,” he says, wiping sweat with a sun-bleached sleeve. “Now, I see everything in 20 minutes and save enough water to fill a small pool.” His hands, calloused from decades of labor, now tap a tablet as often as they grip a hoe.
After the 2023 earthquakes, Arslan and a team of volunteers used privately owned drones to map collapsed buildings in Kahramanmaraş when satellite imagery lagged. Their efforts helped locate 14 survivors in the first 72 hours. Now, she trains youth in disaster response through a youth initiative that turns hobbyists into humanitarian eyes in the sky.
With growth comes responsibility. Authorities have tightened no-fly zones near airports and historical sites, while mandatory registration and pilot certification aim to curb reckless use. Still, the balance between innovation and safety remains delicate especially as drones deliver medicine to remote villages or monitor wildfires in real time.
As twilight settles over Cappadocia, a lone drone hovers above fairy chimneys, capturing footage for a documentary on erosion. Below, a shepherd watches it pass, then turns back to his flock. In that moment, ancient and modern coexist not in conflict, but in quiet conversation. The sky, once reserved for birds and dreams, now carries the hum of progress and the hope that it will be used wisely.
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