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
[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]
Everything in Kosovo has turned into a scene of displacement and purification. We did not desire this scene and have tried to defy it, but Serbian forces have entered our homes, door to door, giving ultimatums to leave. Even in the face of ultimatums and the risk of abduction, the risk of execution, there are many examples of people attempting to resist, to not leave their homes, and then to venture out briefly and return to their yards and homes. Some have tried to relocate from one place to another. Some, unwilling to leave their homes in any way, have been kidnapped or shot right at their doorstep. Even now, the mountains and valleys of Kosovo are filled with thousands of people of different ages who did not want to abandon their homes. They have chosen the mountains, valleys, and caves as a refuge to hide from Serbian forces.
(Supplementary note: Nevertheless, Kosovo is not entirely empty. In its midst, Kosovo still has many liberation armed forces fighting against the Serbian occupiers. This force (KLA), together with NATO, is challenging the Serbian octopus. And in every way, we must believe, with deep conviction in ourselves, in the Almighty, in our friends who are supporting us greatly, that tomorrow (the future) will bring us our share of freedom on this earth. We must not be discouraged, disoriented, or surrender, but we must act as best we can according to the circumstances imposed by the war. Order or no order, each of us must fulfill some task, some work, etc. We must strengthen our physical and spiritual strength, and we must dedicate ourselves to the cause. We must, without a doubt, contribute in our own way to Kosovo, which is in great danger: some with weapons in hand, some with pens in hand, some with logistical means, some with material-financial means, etc. The darkest side of the missing freedom, its defeat, is despair and neglect. Meanwhile, the most tragic aspect of the war for freedom is opposition to it in denigrating, divisive, extortionate, obstructive, sabotaging, and treacherous forms. But in terms of change, none of us (in Kosovo and beyond) will ever be who we were until yesterday. The consequences cannot be calculated by anyone. Each of us will carry the pain and testimony of this difficult time in our hearts and souls (as long as we live), and the events of which can never be fully described.)
10th, may
On May 10th, these ongoing notes, written in a circular and repetitive manner, sometimes in thick lines, I am attempting to organize, systematize, and layer from the perspective of my profession as a creator and journalist. But, to be honest, I feel completely crushed and as if I have an inexplicable lump in my throat. The events that have no end, their tragic echoes, yesterday’s and today’s images, come to me every hour and moment, even when I eat bread, even when I have a coffee, even in meetings and conversations, even when I flip through and read newspapers, at night when I go to sleep, in the morning when the first rays of light appear, etc. Kosovo is crumbling and burning from criminality. I simply think: there can’t be a perfect language, among the thousands of languages spoken in the world, with which the word “crime” could be fully explained and described in the case of Kosovo. I think that not even the Chinese alphabet, composed of thousands of characters, is sufficient to describe all the layers of crime happening in Kosovo.
The news coming from Kosovo is no different from murmurs. Kosovo in this season ties my life, and undoubtedly, the lives of millions of Albanians in the Balkans and beyond. Kosovo has turned into an island of fire and blood, towards which the eyes of humanity have turned. “Crime is triumphing once again,” our great writer Ismail Kadare wrote in an editorial published on May 4th, 1999, in the French daily “Le Monde.” The ethnogenesis of Serbian crime in Kosovo exposes the true face of past and present Serbia. Crime and displacement, especially since March 24th, have appeared directly as an explosion of crime that has been ongoing for years and decades in Kosovo, and around Kosovo. Before the displacement, in fact, the bloody road of displacement, memory, the structure and practices of past and present crime, massacres, burnings, and chaos are the manifestations of the universal explosion of Serbian malice in Kosovo. Our challenge, therefore, in reality, our necessary effort and mobilization against this explosion, is not only necessary but also mythical.
Oh, what should I do? What should the other person do, what should they do? Should we kneel, bow down? Or should we permanently turn our backs on Kosovo? Should we turn our backs on Kosovo forever and in this way, close it in the national memory, the homeland of the past? Thus, should we fall to the ground and never rise again like rotten leaves? No! We must defy this situation in which we find ourselves. We must not surrender at any cost. Will we allow ourselves to become a people without a homeland one day, or will we return to where we were? Kosovo is alive. It is alive, even though it struggles for breath, as they say. The deranged Serbs are trying to put it in the archive, to read later, the obituary of the final depopulation.
11th, may
On May 11th, Here, where I am (in Veleshtë), around 1300 people have now been settled (mostly from Pristina and its surrounding areas). Being here is a true rehabilitation for us. The conditions are comfortable, the food is plentiful, and the treatment is genuinely brotherly. We have found a hospitality that cannot be described in words. But, I don’t think any of us feels at ease. How to bear the burdens on our shoulders, my time flows away. I want to say that dreams are drowning me, the anxiety, the lethargy of long, endless nights without sleep. I endure a torturous sleep.
The essence of dreams makes my breath, spirit, and being terrifying. Like a column of monks, dreams bring to me at night the “apparitions” of people I know but haven’t seen for years, the apparitions of those whom I not only have forgotten for many years and have no idea where they are, but whom I haven’t even thought of for many years. The “apparitions” of those I don’t know but who seem familiar like distant relatives. These “apparitions,” half alive, bewildering, poetic, bring to me, amid cries and tears, messages, signs, lessons, wounds, smiles, courage, bravery, and struggles. Oh, great God!
Then, I am haunted by circles and swirls, the apparitions of the dead, the chimneys of extinguished hearths for ages, the fragments of fires engulfing fields and mountains, houses, hills, etc. So that the sad dreams don’t end in my head, even the columns of barbarians and satraps, the apparitions of known and unknown criminals, threatening, burning, and killing everything that comes before them, appear as if by magic. Some of the murderers from the mad Serbian columns are our immediate neighbors, with whom we have shared land, light, water, air, rain, roads, schools, markets, town squares, greetings, etc., for generations. Others are from the steppe regions of the north. Strange feelings seize me, endless melancholy. Despite all the reading I have done for years, despite all my writing experience, when I write these lines, I need so much to find proper expressions, the power of writing, comparisons, writing forms, figuration, analogy, the function of words, logical-artistic flow, textual power for the message, for the text in general…
A weariness like in legends, an emptiness of memory, spiritual sorrow, physical depressing anxiety, all together, are stealing from me the required energy to structure and weave with taste, in fact, to bring to completion the nature and form of this book I want to write and publish one day. If it weren’t for these good people of Veleshtë, these brothers and sisters who stay with us day and night and care for us more than for themselves, what would we do? If it weren’t for these good people of Veleshtë, whom we didn’t know until yesterday and who didn’t know us, these people who have been waiting for us since day one, with open hearts and, as they say, with all the goodness in the world, what would we do…?
2nd, June
June 2nd. Write a bit every day. Not all of these writings are exclusively diary entries. They are fragments of narratives, some are almost journalistic and essay-like writings. Well, they are a mosaic of narratives connected with each other and intertwined in their descriptive-documentary essence. But amid all of them, I feel physically and spiritually worn out, as if I’ve been beaten with a cudgel. Oh, Kosovo, Kosovo… Only God knows how many ordinary people have been killed, how many have fallen on the field of honor and glory, including many fighters and commanders. Almighty, help those who are there in the battle, protect them from death. Give them strength and spirit!
Kosovo is burning! A people, or half of it, no longer resides there. The other half lives in the valleys and mountains, while thousands are being massacred and killed. The land, stained with blood, has taken the dead. The shadow of Kosovo follows me every moment and everywhere. Not just me. I want to return there: to my beloved Kosovo, from which we were forcibly expelled, with knives and bullets. This feeling that envelops me like a snake is not only indescribable but also difficult to challenge. We have entered the month of June, or the month of cherries. Two days now. In the Balkans, June comes with warm sunshine. The warmth causes the earth’s power to explode, nature comes to life. This month ripens the cherries and finally awakens the flora and fauna. The weather becomes very hot.
Veleshta and the entire region of Struga have entered June. But in our beloved Kosovo, June has come with horror. They (the Serbs) are killing and massacring everything that is alive (people, animals, birds), burning everything that stands in their way (houses, institutions, schools, libraries, religious sites), looting and destroying our history, economy, culture, identity. They (the Serbs) have launched a campaign of depopulation and destruction of everything Albanian. It’s clear: they want to erase the Albanian presence in Kosovo, and then Serbize everything, including the land, water, air, if possible. The chimneys of smoke rise up to the skies. Bodies of dead and massacred people lie for days in the fields and groves, at crossroads, in courtyards… Thickets, rivers, mountains, all resist against the bodies of people and animals cut down by automatic weapons. There is no one there to savor the warm scent of summer, the dazzling rays of the sun, and no one to pick the cherries. Even the birds have been driven away. Only the dogs and cats roam within the burned walls, in the courtyards of abandoned houses. They don’t want to leave. These two living beings are witnesses to the Holocaust happening in Kosovo.
On the other hand, in Kosovo, a fierce war is raging. The Kosovo Liberation Army is fighting in the midst of hell and glory. The war is getting fiercer by the day. The ranks of the KLA are growing rapidly. The fighters of the Kosovo Liberation Army are proud to fight the Serbian occupiers with weapons in hand. A young woman in uniform, Shkodra Zeneli, says, “We are fighting for the liberation of Kosovo. But we are also fighting to break the border and unite Kosovo with Albania.” In his account, a KLA soldier with the pseudonym “Shkupi” says, among other things, “You can’t understand the feeling when we broke the border stones (in Koshare), which have separated Albanians for almost a century.” (Daily newspaper “Flaka,” issue 6215, May 26, page 7, Skopje 1999). Well, more than ever before, during this time, the famous saying will not seem relevant to each of us: “Albanians come from wars and go into wars.”
(Continues)
Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3, Part-4, Part-5, Part-6, Part-7, Part-8, Part-9, Part-10, Part-11, Part-12, Part-13, Part-14, Part-15, Part-16, Part-17, Part-18, Part-19, Part-20, Part-21, Part-22, Part-23, Part-24, Part-25, Part-26, Part-27, Part-28, Part-29, Part-30, Part-31, Part-32,
______________________
[The book ‘In the Kingdom of Death’ is being reproduced in episodes with the consent of the author]
