For Myvedete the war is still not over
Within one day nearly all women from the Kosovo village of Krushe e Madhe lost their husbands, brothers and sons. Responsible for the massacre of 206 people will remain unpunished and unaccounted for.
Kosovo is waiting to become independent, but Myvedete Hoti is yearning for news about Halil, her son. She saw him for the last time on March 26, 1999, two days after the launch of Nato's air raids against the then Yugoslavian Serbia.
Bombings and air strikes were to end the ongoing war and prevent Belgrade from the displacement of Albanian Kosovars. The nineteen-year-old Halil was standing by the wall where
Serbian policemen and members of paramilitary squads gathered men from Krushe e Madhe (Krusa Velika) situated at the south of Kosovo. They ordered the Albanians to form two rows and put their hands up. They searched all of them.
In the Halil's pocket they found a picture. The young boy and his friends took a picture with a symbol of the Kosovo Liberation Army (UÇK). The emblems with the two-head black eagle, the symbol of Albania, were then carried by numerous
supporters of guerillas groups made of Albanian Kosovars in the province being a part of Yugoslavia. Guerilla groups fought against Serbians for the independence of the region since the mid of 90s. The south of the province was reputed to be a bastion of UÇK.
In the March morning Halil and his friends from the picture were called to step out of the line. Serbian policemen began to kick and beat them brutally. This is the last picture his mother has before her very eyes. Then she lost consciousness.
Halil, alike about 2.3 thousands of other Albanian Kosovars, were officially included in the missing list. His remains have never been found.
The 39-year-old Hamza, husband of Mrs. Hoti stood with his hands raised above his head by the same wall: 'I completely cannot remember how he looked like. As if I hadn't seen him. I was so deep in thoughts about my son.'
Three years ago it came to light what happened to Hamza. Together with 63 other men Hamza was shot and killed with a machine gun and then burnt by Serbs in one of the houses in Krushe e Madhe.
During three March days 206 people in total were murdered in the village. The remains of Hamza were found several hundred kilometres away from his home village, in a mass grave near Belgrade - Serbians used to take the bodies away from the place of the crime to cover up tracks. The remains were identified through the DNA tests.
Segregation
They don't cry anymore. They do not call Serbs murders but they cannot imagine common future within one country - Serbia. Over 8 years ago, on March 24, in the evening Serbs surrounded the village. - On the hills around we saw tanks, their engines were running. Every now and then they moved a few meters forward and back to frighten us. In the morning we wanted to escape but because of the encirclement and road blockades there was no way out. We gathered in the mosque and around it. Then snipers started to fire at the crowd to disperse it. They didn't want to kill, not yet. Grenades were flying all over the place with shrapnel digging into people's skin, says Mrs. Hoti. - After a few hours we decided to flee into the mountains, it was the only way out - recalls Kimete, who lost her husband Haxhi and brother-in-law in Krushe e Madhe. - My brother's wife hold a six-month-baby in her arms. It was pouring and was very cold. The baby started to cry. We couldn't hide out as the crying threatened other people's life. On March 26 in the morning, we decided to come back to the village - me, my husband, our three-year-old son, four-year-old daughter, my brother's wife, brother-in-law, their baby and mother-in-law, says Kimete.
They sheltered at the house near the mosque, where other neighbours were already waiting. The building was located on the hill. They hoped, if the offensive had been launched, Serbs will attack only houses situated below.
- When we got inside we saw crowds of people. There were a few hundred people squeezed in two chambers. In one of them there were women with children, in another one - men. When my little boy wanted to pee, he couldn't get outside - remembers Kimete.
Over 100 people were crowded in an area of 12 square metres. There was no air to breathe. People were screaming: "Open the door!". They were not aware that it had been long since open.
Kimete got outside through the window with a small Rinor. Then she noticed Serbian paramilitary squads in the greenhouse in the backyard: 'Startled I dropped my baby. Even today I cannot understand how I could do it. We jumped back inside quickly.'
A few minutes later the house was surrounded. 'Serbs started to drive us out of the house to the backyard. I handed Rinor over to my husband. I thought if he had a baby in his arms, they would leave him alone. My brother's wife did the same with her six-month-old son.
Then they began to segregate women from men. My husband felt that something wrong would happen. He gave our son back to me, took off the watch and told me to hide it in the underwear. When men were standing by the wall, one of the soldiers said to us: 'It's your last chance to look at them'.
That was the cruel truth, says Kimete.
Women with children were gathered in the mosque. Serbian policemen guarded them inside, out of the balcony. Every now and then they reloaded their guns just to frighten the crowd. They demanded jewellery and money. They promised that in return they would let our men free.
'They lied. When we handed over our family mementoes to them, they didn't even ask for names, says Kimete.
She only left a wedding ring on her finger. Her hands swelled up and she coul'dt take it off. But the policeman was stronger, he managed to tear it off with the skin and even tore out earrings from her ears.
'We were not afraid of death but when they started picking young girls out of the crowd we feared a mass rape is going to take place in front of our eyes. For us it would be worse than death, stresses Myvedete, mother of a missing Halil. After six hours, about five p.m. Serbian police entered the mosque.
The war is still going on
'We went outside. The whole village below was alight. Going down the hill we passed burning cows, sheep and hens. They were all ablaze. All around we heard screams of people, cry of children and howling of animals, but all the time I was thinking about my son, says Mrs. Hoti. She had never taken any tranquilizers, after March 26 she began smoking. Her cousin Kimete can remember that day minute after minute: - I didn't believe that we would survive. Serbs told us: do you want NATO, we will take you to NATO, to Dakovica! The city of Dakovica was bombed 236 times during 78 days of air raids. They changed however their mind and told women with children to march to a nearby Rogovo under escort. 'It wasn't even 10 km away but we were marching 24 hours without food and drink. On the way we were passing electric cables cut, animals killed and shops burnt down. We were escorted by Serbian policemen on both sides. We didn't know what happened to our husbands, brothers and older sons, says Kimete.'
Boys under the age of 15 and men over 60 marched with us to Rogovo. Other inhabitants of Krushe e Madhe vanished into the blue. 24 hours later women, children and the elderly crossed the border with Albania as refugees from Kosovo. There they waited until the end of air raids.
And also there in a local newspaper mother of a missing Halil read that Serbs burnt people in Krusa.
'I couldn't believe it. On June 18, I came back home. I will never forget German experts in protective clothing and masks visiting a house where men were burnt. It was at this moment that I realized that they were all dead, says Myvedete.
64 charred bodies were identified, seven of them as inhabitants of Krushe e Madhe. The rest were refugees living in other parts of Kosovo who happened to be in the village during the massacre. Nobody knew anything about Kimete's husband and Myvedete's husband and son.
Three years ago, just before the next anniversary of the massacre a list of another 100 identified bodies reached the village. - Perhaps it's better not to go? Not to check? - Kimete thought for a short while when she learned about the list.
But she did. She found Haxhi. 'I was asked two questions: if I wanted to know how he died and what remained of him. I asked only for the remains.'
In a little bag with a number on I found two parts of bones: of the right arm and left knee, and in the attached report information where the remains were found.
All that is left by the carpenter Haxhi are a watch and photographs that decorated with flowers are now hanging on the wall of the rebuild house. The list included also the name of his brother - Myvedete's husband.
The remains of the left part of his body were found at the same place near Belgrade.
After the war - it doesn't look better
The tragedy of widows of Krushe e Madhe didn't pass with the end of the war. Having come back to the village, Kimete lived in a tent until winter, then moved to the cellar at her family's. Recently she managed to rebuild her house completely ruined after the war. If it weren't her another brother-in-law from Switzerland, she wouldn't have anything to live on. The unemployment rate in Kosovo reached 70 percent. But widows, often very young, don't await any donations or aid. They fight for their families, for children, who survived. Thanks to non-governmental organizations a 36-year-old Kimete passed a driving test, finished courses, learnt English. But these are the pickles that turned out to be the best idea. Members of one of the NGOs persuaded widows to open a small seasonal business - production of pepper preserves. For the time being five women work in a small company. 'There is a saying that a man is harder than a rock, says a 48-year-old Myvedete. 'I only regret that the war is still not over for me as I still have no news about my son. Women from Krushe e Madhe do not expect that justice will be done. ,Serbs who came here were not locals. We didn't know them, nobody recognized them, no documents are available. Most important witnesses have been burnt. There is no chance to bring anybody to the Court, assesses Kimete. The only person charged with the massacre was Slobodan Miloszević, the former president of Serbia. Inhabitants of Krushe e Madhe were questioned by the Hague Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia during his trial. However, Miloszević died last year not having heard the sentence. A monument commemorating the victims was recently erected near the school in Krushe e Madhe. No details regarding the murder and the victims are to be found on it. Only a date. March 26, 1999.
AGNIESZKA SKIETERSKA, Krushe e Madhe
Gazeta Wyborcza, 12th December 2007r.
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