Amina Mekić je mlada djevojka čiji su roditelji doživjeli strahote tokom genocida u Bosni i Hercegovini . “U ratu smo izgubili mnogo članova najuže porodice. Nedavno smo pronašli ostatke mog djeda i daiđe. Mi ne znamo kako i gdje su ubijeni. Još uvijek niko nije odgovarao za njihovu smrt iako je je od toga prošlo više od 25 godina. Mnogi od nas su raseljeni širom svijeta. Moja porodica je tokom rata došlu u Birmingham u Velikoj Britaniji. Genocid vidim bilo kuda da krenem, u mojim roditeljima, mojoj majci prilikom gledanja vatrometa, mom ocu kroz priče koje dijeli sa mladim generacijama, u bh. zajednici u Velikoj Britaniji te Bosni i Hercegovini. Ne bi trebalo postojati porodica u svijetu koja će za trepezarijskim stolom pričati o preživljavanju i genocidu. Ali, uprkos svemu ja vidim NADU, kroz obrazovanje novih generacija koje će saznati šta se desilo i ne ponoviti ovakva zvjerstva.”, izjavila je Amina.

 

 

Home is where the heart is
Where the food is
Where your family is
Sitting in front of their houses at the crack of dawn ready to greet you as you step out onto your balcony
Breathe in the crisp air
It’s been 25 years since you’ve left
and the grass has never looked greener
Here, we have a talent for picking ourselves up
Turning tears into blue skies and sighs into symphonies

Look out onto the city in front of you and the hills and mountaintops and the pink hues that serve as their backdrop (not like the red you were forced to leave without)
Where nature and nurture hold hands and promise to give you the best that they can no matter the price

Home
Where crickets and birds lead an orchestra that lasts all day long and then deep into the night like mini cellists in the middle of Sarajevo
Where the mosquitos leave love bites for you to wake up to in the heat
Claiming that you’re just too tasty to resist
And not in the sweet way but in the kind of way where it’s a place where everyone eats meat and not like chicken but rich red meat and that’s why everyone looks so well fed these days
This is no place for vegans
that would just be silly
Because this land is home to the richest meats and the heartiest of vegetables
There is fine dining and even finer drinking and all emotions come from the bottom of the stomach
All of the hearty laughs and cheers
This is also no place for anyone with sensitive ears

Home
Where it’s not quite third world but it’s also definitely not first world
Nothing like the countries that took us in
Where the diaspora have to slow down their Mercedes on account of the cows standing on the edge of the road 
This is a different type of unique
maybe because there’s a truck full of freshly cut pine trees that stretch up into the clouds
Big blue clear skies in the middle of the day where you can actually see the stars and the moon and the clouds and the birds and the bats and all the other goings on that happen in the small moments of the day
Like that time we saw two black squirrels chasing each other around the forest
Or the kittens that turned up unannounced at our front door as if they lived there all their lives

Home
Where your history is
Not the one forced upon you by the English curriculum but the real, raw, rubble left behind by all the natural disasters and otherwise
Where the cars weave through mountains to get to the next city rather than the m5
And tumbling rocks are held back by silver wires
And on top of those mountains there are great stone castles
Left behind by the Ottomans because there was more than enough to go around
And there is history in these streets
Bustling markets where old ladies wear scarves over their heads to protect themselves from promaha 
And younger generations dance age old routines at modern parties and upload them to instagram for their friends to see

And on the way there
You will trace your country’s scars with your fingertips
When you walk through town and step on unexpected red craters
The damage left by Bomb shells filled with red cement as a reminder of the fallen
People who’ve risked their lives for this beautiful place we call home
There is a tunnel that stretches through citites like our backbone
The same tunnel used to deliver supplies during the darker times
Coursing through its veins and pulsing hope through its bloodstream even when the mere idea of home was just about ripped away from us all
It’s been 25 years since you left
And it’s still thriving
Exactly where you left it

Home
Where we are resilient
Where we pick ourselves back up and grow from past experiences
choosing not to dwell, but rather to remember
and to honour those roots
The history
The patriotism, the culture that runs deep through your veins
Those who fought and those who continue to fight every single day for rememberance
For recognition
For change
For those who build bridges
Bringing up our history so it will never repeat itself

Home
Where there is love
And there is life
And there’s new family waiting for you every time you go back
And there is fallen family watching over you every step of the way
Where this circle of love and life and hope only seems to grow more and more as the days go on
And there will be scorching summers and darker days
Humbling thunderstorms and beautiful springs
And even when that sun has set
And the sky is dipping from pink to blue
25 years later
This will always be a place for you to call home.

Amina Mekić – Mimi