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With our group was a young couple. During the refugee days, they knew nothing of each other, they had no telephone numbers, they had no idea how to find each other, but now, fortunately, they were rushing to find a phone to ask for their baby that they left in Kosova just for a few days – they missed him. While they were looking for telephone, my mind recalled the desperately cries of a newborn baby, whose mother couldn’t climb in a truck (ordered by Serbs) with baby in her arms. She gave the baby to other women, just to keep her, while she was getting on the truck, but the Serbs ordered the driver to drive - the young mother remained on the road, and the baby started its refugee life, without smelling her mother’s love and tenderness. The truck went quickly, creating a large cloud of dust behind it… everybody was crying, and young mother screamed once and fell on the truck’s floor unconscious... We were desperately trying to convince her that the baby would be safe and she would find her, but it was hard to convince the mother’ s heart. We were together at the same colony. She cried all the time and when we crossed the border, she started to cry, horrifying everyone, saying that her baby was the youngest refugee among the millions of refugees.
How I longed to see the face of that mother, two months after, when I saw on television the report of a woman holding an unknown child. The baby was named Flaka, meaning “Fire.” The woman, holding the baby, described in detail what the mother of the baby was wearing when they were separated.
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Sindorela Doli
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okay Antony Felix O. O. Simbowo | Dec 29th, 2004
War war war!? When will mankind ever be civilized?
Some insightful thoughts you have there.
Keep it up.
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