12/07/1995 | Page 10 of 14 | Voices from the Drina

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We’re being deported out of Potočari by Serb forces. Men are being separated from their families before we board the bus.

I’ve just hugged by brother, my Muhamed, for the last time. My parents are both going with him to the selection.

The bus has stopped in Hranča. A Chetnik soldier has boarded the bus. He says Tuzla (free territory) doesn’t want us. He says the Bosnian President doesn’t want us.

I’ve just watched @nuhanovićhasan hug his younger brother for the last time. I was just staring at their backs, until their figures got lost in the semi-darkness of the unlit factory hall.

I’m on one of the buses of women and children being deported out of Potočari. Chetnik soldiers have stopped our bus several times. They take people off the bus to search them for gold or money. (1/2)

When we were stopped at Kravica, our Serb bus driver said to the soldier, “What more do you want from these people?”. The soldier warned him “be careful otherwise you will join them.” As we drove off I could see the driver crying. (2/2)

🧵 I’ve just seen my son, Mustafa, out of the bus window, tied up by Serb soldiers by the river.

A few mins ago a Serb soldier stopped the bus near Kasaba and entered the bus. He said to us, “Look at your sons and your husbands”. I looked out the window onto a meadow. There our men were.

There, wearing just shorts and some in T-shirts, men were standing and squatting. And finally I recognised my Mustafa. I saw him and he saw me.When he saw me looking, he dropped his head. I do not know if he was crying.

I feel all over the place. I can’t really gather myself right now.