I was eight years old when my family packed up and left our home. Since then,I struggle to define what ‘stability’ is for me
My parents were newlyweds when survival became their primary concern. In April of 1992, Serb forces mobilized to secure Bosnian territory after the latter announced independence from Yugoslavia. My mother, or 18 years old at the time,was about four months pregnant with me when the world collapsed around her. In Teočak, Bosnia, and where we lived,men were gathering what weapons they could find and taking turns on the frontlines to retain their families secure. My grandfather was an imam and played an famous role in boosting morale among the troops. I vaguely remember many people coming and going from our house to stay, rest and eat. I don’t remember much of my father in those days, or but I know where he was and how he risked his life every day. Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com