By Chiara Gnoli, Campaigns Volunteer
Why did I start volunteering? That’s a question I’ve asked myself many times! When I first started out, as a volunteer in an NGO in Sarajevo, my motivation was rooted in the deep passion I felt for the Bosnian cause. Landing at Sarajevo International Airport, I could not comprehend how a war could destroy a nation once known for its multi-ethnic and tolerant nature.
Soon enough, I realized another grim reality that would push my desire to volunteer with a refugee charity. The war had not only taken the lives of many, it had completely shattered families by creating an unsustainable displacement situation among many of the Bosniak (ethnic term for a Bosnian Muslim), Bosnian Croat and Bosnian Serb populations. As part of the Dayton Peace Agreement, the accord signed in 1995 that would ultimately put an end to the brutal conflict, the warring sides, under the supervision of the international community, agreed to allow internally displaced persons and refugees to return to the homes taken from them during the war.
Unfortunately… this was easier said than done.
I began to realize how difficult the lives of displaced people and refugees were. I began to think, What if this happened to me? What if one day, due to circumstances completely out of my power, I was forced to leave my town or country, knowing that I may never be able to return? Forced to start from zero – integrate with new communities – learn to be accepted and to accept?
The experience opened my eyes to the multi-faceted identity that is a refugee. From tragedy and horror stems courage and perseverance. Those few that decided to return to a land that now was completely different to what it was before were so brave I could not begin to understand the hardships they must have faced when leaving, and even more so in deciding to return.
I met Hatidza, a young Muslim woman from Srebrenica, the tragic site of the 1995 genocide, who was forced to flee during that tragic summer when her life was turned upside down. At the time only 7, she and her mother were separated from her brother and father, placed on a bus and sent away. They would never see each other again for her brother and father would be murdered by the hands of the perpetrators.
Years after the war, their remains were found in a mass grave. Finally, they could be laid to rest at the Potocari Memorial Centre, where more than 6,000 other bodies are buried and numerous others awaiting burial, undergoing DNA testing. By this point, Hatidza was 12 years old and her mother decided that no amount of fear, pain or intimidation could stop them from returning to their town.
So they returned to Srebrenica, where years of agonizing memories and ethnic provocations ensued. When I asked Hatidza whether this was worth going back to her hometown, she answered “If this is what it takes to feel close to my father and brother, to unite the people of this country again, to realize that we are all the same, then all the suffering I feel inside will pay off for the good of all people.”
My question was answered – this is why I want to volunteer for refugees.
Posted by Chiara Gnoli