My father and mom also worked with metal, so I've always been interested in this business.

After tenth grade, I was already making knives and handing them over to our Kharbuk Art Factory. That's how I started working. Someone made sickles and scythes, some made nails and horseshoes, and I was most interested in weapons. In our village, women have always worked on an equal basis with men. When men went to fight in ancient times, women made their own weapons. We even had our own cannons and supplied weapons to Shamil.

When I cut metal, I already know from the sound of a hammer what quality the metal is, good or bad. At the same time, I understand what kind of work will be done. Every master has his own secret. Sometimes I look at other artists and wonder if there are moments they do differently. If you don't know something, they'll tell you. Sometimes you can also give advice.

When working with metal, you don't need strength, but patience and skill. It takes a lot of patience: to forge, grind, sharpen, engrave.

I put my heart and soul into my work, that's why I'm proud of it. It's very interesting to me when I try one thing and move on to another: I'll make a new form, add a new pattern, new elements. This is how I work.

It is interesting to work, but it is even more interesting to teach others. For thirteen years I taught metal art to children. The girls and boys in my bands loved it, asked a lot of questions and often stayed late after school to study engraving.

Now my students are grown up, and when I go to the city, I often meet them. They always help me — they will take my bags and take me to the right place — this makes me very happy.

It's not just the process and the result that matter in my work, it's important who gets their hands on the weapons I'll make. I'll never sell it to some bully. When people order a dagger, sword or checker from me, I always talk to this person first: I ask who came from where, what they do, and who their parents work for. If a person is bad, I'll see it in the eye and say no to him.

No matter how much you try to make something for a bad person, nothing good will come of it. It breaks down once, twice, three times — the job doesn't work out, and that's it.

I have three children: two sons and a daughter. All art schools have graduated: they draw, engrave and forge. My daughter then went into medicine and works as a midwife, but she still knows how to handle metal. And the sons don't make weapons; they forge: different chandeliers, railings, flowers, and so on. I have them very capable. I believe that my children, great-grandchildren and other generations will continue our work.