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Almedina Memišević

As we’re fleeing Srebrenica, I can see and hear the Chetniks dancing the kolo (traditional dance from the region) on one of the nearby hills. The inhumanity.

Just said goodbye to Dad. He’s heading to the woods. We’ve packed him some food and we’re heading to Potočari. Dad said “perhaps we will never see each other again.” Then he told Gran “take good care of my children.” The rest of us are continuing towards Potočari.

When Dad was walking away to go into the woods, we turned around as long as we could see him. Will I ever see him again?