15/07/1992 | Voices from the Drina

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The most difficult time is the afternoon. Hunger turns into a pain, similar to a stomach cramp, a pain that cannot be banished.

🧵 Today I was attacked by Serb soldiers. Dragoljub “Žaga” Kunarac entered my friend’s apartment, while I was visiting. He accused me of transmitting radio messages, which he claimed resulted in the death of his men. One of his soldiers grabbed me and took me to their car.

They drove to the Ćehotina river (tributary of the Drina), near a small forest. Dragoljub Kunarac threatened me. He took 100,000 dinars from me and asked me how many Deutschmarks I had. If I lied, he said he’d cut my head off and kill my son.

He then ordered me to undress and forced me to do things… he said I should enjoy being “fucked by a Serb”. I put my hands over my eyes but he ordered me to look at him. The other soldiers sat in the car, watching and laughing.

When he had finished, another soldier arrived and did the same thing to me. He told me I would carry a Serb baby. A third soldier did the same thing.

Dragoljub Kunarac told me that if I did not tell the truth about what money I had, I would be forced to drink the blood of my son. I was taken back to my friend’s apartment and was forced to give all my valuables to them.

I’m writing this for no reason other than to ensure the world knows what Serb forces have done to the women of Bosnia. The world has to know.

Today Dragoljub “Žaga” Kunarac and his Serb forces terrorised myself and my neighbours, including @foča183. They took all our valuables, threatened our sons and committed horrors against some of us.

I’m really sick. I spotted a spring earlier today. Knelt down and drank from it. Now my throat is sore and full of mucus. Mama has given me a penicillin tablet from her purse. I’ve drunk the penicillin directly from the ampoule. It tasted like poison.

I’m losing hope that this war will end any time soon.