Featured Authors

Featured Authors

Hasan Nuhanović

Mirza and I have had a huge argument. I managed to convince her that we should both leave our dorms in Sarajevo and head home. Even if it means being separated. She’s on her way to the Sandžak in Serbia. I’m on my way home to Vlasenica. I don’t know when I’ll see her again.

I’m home. I find myself glued to the news. Mum and Braco won’t talk about what’s going on.

I’ve tried to convince Dad that we should all leave for Sweden. He’s not having it. He won’t leave without paying his workers at the timber yard.

On our way to Zvornik to celebrate Eid with grandparents. I’m terrified. Serb forces have said this Bajram will be a “bloody one”. We’ve heard about the massacres in Bijeljina. We know about Arkan. And we have to pass through Serb villages to get to Zvornik. What if they stop us?

We’re in Zvornik. I’m still terrified.

I’ve been to two kiosks in Zvornik, looking for a hunting knife. I need a weapon to protect myself. Both kiosks were out of knives. Luckily the second one had one left. I can’t be the first Muslim who’s thought of arming themselves.

We’re back in Vlasenica. My Serb neighbours are leaving en masse. Their entire families leave in the morning, then their men return wearing uniform and carrying automatic rifles. I’m terrified.

Mum answered the phone to her sister screaming & crying that Chetniks were coming down the hill twds my grandparents’ house (Zvornik), and that they were banging on the door. The telephone connection cut. Mum went into a meltdown that I have never seen from her before. (1/2)

She was shaking all over, crying and screaming, ‘Leave my children alone, leave my children alone!’ By ‘children’ she meant my brother and I. (2/2)

About fifteen Bosniaks from three or four families have gathered at my dad’s nephew’s place. We all agree that in the event of an attack, our chances of survival are better if we stick together.

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