Fehmi Ajvazi, an eminent author from Kosovo, has shared his book ‘In the Kingdom of Death’ published in Albanian in 2012 in Pristina, and in Romanian in 2019, and was translated from Albanian to English 

Fehmi Ajvazi author

[In March 1999, the Serbian regime blanketed Kosovo with a contingent of 120,000 regular police, military, and civilian paramilitary forces. Just about two weeks before NATO’s intervention in Kosovo began, the region was surrounded on all sides, while pockets of the interior (villages and towns) were hit with arrests, liquidations, and massacres. Kosovo became a reservation. A kingdom called the “Kingdom of Death” established authority everywhere! However, some areas were controlled by insurgent liberation forces, and in some places, Serbian forces couldn’t penetrate. Well, the hatred between Serbs and Albanians was the same, but the bullets were the same too: they brought death to everyone, and it was no problem for the “bullet” whether the target was Albanian or Serbian. I mean, the forces of the Kosovo Liberation Army held some territory and kept it free! But about ten days before NATO planes launched their attack in their battle for Kosovo, Albanian insurgents managed to have the world’s most powerful force as their ally: the NATO alliance. However, no one had managed to master a pact with death. Just a few days before March 24th, the “Lady of Death” was the ruler of Kosovo, in reality, she was the ruler of the Albanian citizens of this extremely small territory! And for the third time in history, the state of Serbia wanted nothing more and nothing less than: the ethnic cleansing of Kosovo. Over 1 million residents before March 24, 1999, challenged “this kingdom” by saying, “Here we are, your power is not the power of God!” I had decided to stay, not to leave. I was a journalist, but also a creator. And so, I had no idea what dilemmas lay in this direction, despite the open threats from the Serbs, and I knew well that they would try to wash their hands of us like Pontius Pilate! Regardless of every situation and circumstance, I sacrificed to be a witness to a time and a history without parallel! Yes, a witness…! And everything I have said and written about literary-historical conditions is in this book – a testimony. Therefore, this book is a source and my personal experience of a time I pray will never be repeated – anywhere. Just as I pray for the souls of those who did not come out alive in this “kingdom of death” in the third millennium! Read the truth about Kosovo…  Author]

Photo courtesy: UNHCR

THE MIRACLE OF RETURN

The farewell meeting

Morning in Veleshta appears very lively, cheerful, dazzling. The streets are filled with people, some of them from Kosovo. The village is organizing a farewell concert. This symbolic concert gathers the displaced people for the last time, but also the residents of the village-town. The concert mainly contains festive farewell messages. This concert, in its content, in its rhythm, in every aspect, carries the sweet scent of freedom. Men, women, children, elderly, gathered in a school hall to listen to war verses, to listen to patriotic songs, always greeting each other, always sharing special greetings. Most of them shed tears in silence. No one hides their tears. Ah, they were tears mixed with smiles of joy. They were hundreds and hundreds of people of language and blood who, for the first time in their lives, gathered like this, here, in a southern geographical corner, a little further from the point where the three Balkan borders meet, right at the corner of the ancient Illyrian-Roman road “Via Egnatia.” The June sun, along with the long applause and the echo of beautiful Albanian songs, comes in with the warmth of the season and enters without fear through the open windows side by side, inside the large hall of the school.

UNHCR Photo

In the name of the village, Kadri Shehu welcomes. In the name of the displaced people, Professor Dervish Qerreti welcomes. In this atmosphere, there are no others, only brothers and sisters celebrating the “Time of Kosovo.” From the atmosphere that ignites and ignites like a flame, we all believe that we are somewhere in the middle of Kosovo; we all believe that we have known each other for years and that day by day, we come together even more despite deep political and territorial divisions centuries old.

“Kosova, Kosova,” “UÇK, UÇK,” everyone shouts, both from Veleshta and from Kosovo. The verses and songs don’t stop. The power of a farewell meeting, in essence, the power of a brotherly-artistic meeting, unites the people here, in this Veleshta environment, right next to the heavy chains of slavery.

Well, “leaving freedom,” seems like the ugliest thing at this moment. Especially leaving that freedom given by nature, given by God! Ah, the historical wound and the stupor of slavery make me sad, different from the brilliance of this festive meeting. I think to myself: sometimes, misfortune also has its good sides! Albanians, ah, the suffering and divided Albanians for centuries, in general, in the “case of Kosovo,” showed a biblical solidarity. “From Kosovo to Preveza,” the rhapsodist cries, exhilarated by the festive rhythms, exalted by the power of the song and freedom, and continues with a shout: “Oh, come on, brother, let’s sing together!” The time of Kosovo united the sons of Albania, made them unique like no other, made them recognize each other, made them share pain and joy together, made them fight together, die together, forge dear friendships together, made them exchange unknown and broken pieces of lives. Together…

Here, in Veleshta, where I have found shelter for more than two months, together with my wife and my son Etnik, the rain of recognition and the plant of memory will always remain alive among the furrows of our lives and the unforgettable pages of history. During all this time spent here in Velesht, and especially, during all the moments spent at “Dy Rrapet,” as the locals call the center of the village-town, I have met and gotten to know many brothers from Struga and its surroundings, from Librazhd, from Pogradec, and so on.

Veleshta, which some call “Kanton,” has symbolized for me the structure of a brotherly oasis. We have been warmly welcomed and treated by ordinary people, by men and women, by young people, by the elderly, by children. Here, in Veleshta, and everywhere in the Struga region, I have truly spent unforgettable days with good friends, with good people, whom I will always cherish in my heart, regardless of where I am, and regardless of the fact that I may never see some of them again. I have truly spent unforgettable moments with poet Vahid Nasufi, with the young poet Xheladin Muça, with the political prisoner Sylejman Hani, then with Shefi Reçi, a distinguished karate athlete, with Sadiku, a worker from Librazhd, with the well-known writer and professor Agim Vinca, and so on.

Yes, there is no doubt: I have spent unforgettable moments with many other Veleshtans, with many people from Struga, Livadhja, Dollogozhda, Ladorishti, and so on. Passing through these difficult and inconvenient days, as they say, I (just like hundreds of thousands of displaced people from Kosovo) have so many memories in my heart, such good memories that I will never allow time to erase them from my mind and memory. Veleshtans, especially, have been with us day and night: with everything we needed and everything we needed. How can one forget the fact that, besides in Velesht, during this time, more than 17 children were born to displaced pregnant mothers? These children will always be the memory and the most sublime sign of love and solidarity among brothers, in a difficult time for our nation and for Kosovo.

(The concert ends. People hug each other again. They take photos. They exchange addresses once more. Amidst the chaos of tears and joy, I hug Uncle Behxhet. Nik doesn’t understand what’s happening while smiling lightly and running his fingers through my hair. Hope tries to hide the tears. She seems quite disoriented! Maybe because of pain, joy, or the dawn of freedom…)

DW Photo

See you all to Free Kosovo

The days are passing quickly. The early days of freedom have kindled the displaced (as a mother kindles her bees) to return to their lands and homes. Just as they were expelled in waves, they are returning in waves. In fact, no one heeds the calls for a careful return under dangerous conditions. No one listens, not even to the appeal of Dennis McNamara (the UN Special Envoy for the return of Albanians to Kosovo), who signals the many risks of immediate return. The truth is, the first victims of this massive return have already fallen. But, as if the biblical bells had rung, columns of people voluntarily returning number in the hundreds of thousands. Even here, where I still am, hundreds of people have already left the Struga region and are on their way to Kosovo. They left without waiting for the organized way of return, as has been said and appealed for incessantly…

Today is the final day of the deadline for the complete withdrawal of Serbian forces from Kosovo. As announced, Serbian forces withdrew 12 hours before the deadline. Two buses, organized accordingly, will depart from Veleshta tomorrow (June 21st). All the displaced people traveling on these buses are anxious. The comet of joy in departure has enveloped them from head to toe. Everyone wants to see Kosovo as soon as possible. They want to go to Kosovo for sure, to their homes. I want to go too! Oh, as soon as possible. To travel over the mountains and fields of Kosovo, the martyr. The castle of joy and longing fills my heart, just as the sun fills the Sahara’s earth with warmth.

Tomorrow, I will also go with Hope and Nik. We will stay in Veleshta for another 12 hours, no more. But, we are leaving behind the locals. We are leaving behind their love and their sorrow, together. Both sides, we are leaving behind a time as painful as it is unforgettable—historic. Both sides, we are leaving somewhere in the corners of time and history, our physical separation, with tears and hugs. We are leaving behind the days and months we have spent together, the days and months that will mark the most unforgettable chapter in our shared history.

We will start, we will start tomorrow, even though the locals have welcomed us fraternally. The people of Veleshta, inevitably, bid farewell to everyone with their familiar greeting: “Welcome to Free Kosovo!” Inevitably, they will say this greeting to me as well. But how will I return this greeting to them? Oh God, how frustrated I am! Well, this is how farewells, departures, and irreversible departures are. While the dawn of freedom draws us displaced people like an endless constellation, there is still something that weighs on the heart, like a stone mixed with metal. Something sad! Is it the separation…? No, I don’t know, I don’t know…?

However it may be, it will never be like it was yesterday. Never! Everything will be different…

Summer of 1999

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Published under International Cooperation with "Sindh Courier"