Sticks and Stones to Break Your Bones

Nani and Agi were at home one evening discussing the unrest in the next town called Bujanovac. There was an Albanian speaking school there and the Serbian authorities had informed them that the curriculum of the school would be changed overnight. The school was no longer to take lessons in Albanian and that only Serbian should be spoken. I remember thinking that wasn’t so bad as everyone spoke the two languages anyway, even the children. But my parents and especially Agi was furious saying that it was a human right to be able to speak in whatever tongue they wanted and the Albanian speaking schools had been in existence for over a hundred years.

Bujanovac was only ten minutes drive away and was what was known as a mixed town. Serbs lived side by side with Albanian speaking people who made up a large portion of the residents. Fifty per cent of the town were Orthodox Christian and fifty per cent Muslim. The tension at the school simmered for many weeks and the Serbian Army were often in attendance to keep control. It was said that behind closed doors the teachers continued to give lessons in Albanian but over time, gangs of young Serb men formed and began to taunt and abuse the children and teachers alike as they made their way to lessons. As the abuse and the crowds and the violence grew (while the Serb Army stood and watched) many of the teachers and the pupils stayed at home. They were genuinely too scared to walk the daily gauntlet of abuse and even the Headmaster resigned.

The school was slowly dying and it appeared there was nothing anyone could do to stop it from closing. It seemed the rule of the mob had won through in Bujanovac, that is until a document was leaked detailing that the Serbian Army would take over the premises once the last pupil and teacher had vacated the building. That seemed to galvanise the Albanian speaking population and in particular my parents who offered unwavering support for the school at Bujanovac.

One night Nani announced that she would take a job at the school. My father looked concerned but she was having none of it. She explained that she was a very good teacher and the school needed teachers and therefore she would apply for a position at the town and the children would be taught in the language they had always been taught in. I looked at Agi when Nani came out with this and although he certainly wasn’t happy that his wife was putting herself in the line of fire, I’m sure I caught a flicker of a smile of admiration and of course we both knew he would back her all the way. Whatever people said of my parents I did not look upon them as rebels. A little militant perhaps, but they were pacifists too and tolerant of everything and everyone with an unwavering determination that no one could change.

So some weeks later a letter arrived telling Nani she could start work at the school whenever she was ready. She was grinning broadly as she announced she would be there first thing on Monday morning. I confess, that weekend I was absolutely petrified and didn’t want Monday morning to come.

By this time there were very few teachers and pupils at the school and it became known in the town that a new teacher would be joining their ranks. The mob was out in force that day including whole families who ridiculed and taunted my mother as she walked through the gates. She was having none of it as she walked towards the school gates with her head held high. As she reached the entrance of the school one or two stones were thrown and a glass bottle but the perpetrators aim was poor and they missed their intended target. When she came out of school the mob had swelled in numbers and she noticed one or two of her old friends in their ranks too.

My father looked on proudly as Nani explained her working day over dinner that evening. She said there had only been three pupils in the class and the school had resembled a ghost town. As I sat and listened I thought my mother was fighting a losing battle and yet as her and Agi spoke there was a determined positive vibe as we sat cross-legged around a low table eating dinner. Despite the hostility and the abuse Nani suffered there was no doubt about it... she was more than happy in what she was doing and confidant that people would eventually see sense.

As the weeks passed something strange happened. The mob became smaller and the pupil numbers grew. It appeared that Nani and the other teachers had turned the tide and Nani was all grins one evening as she announced proudly that the pupils now outnumbered the mob. The protesters and antagonizers were growing bored it seemed and had turned their anger and hostility elsewhere. One of the mothers who had stood and shouted at the teachers in the early days even came to Nani and apologised. She said that she had been caught up in something she knew very little about and now realised that the teachers wanted nothing more than to be able to teach the children.

A few days later the Serbian Army were conspicuous by their absence at the school and eventually it returned to normal. We were all so relieved and happy and I can remember a celebration dinner of sorts when Nani came home that afternoon.

I lay on the sofa that evening and thought things through. Common sense would always prevail I whispered to myself, good would always triumph over evil. Soon these little hostilities would come to an end and we could all get back to normal.

But it didn’t happen. The victory for the school at Bujanovac and for common sense was soon forgotten. We were watching more and more killings and unrest on TV and there was open fighting between Serbian forces and the Kosovo Liberation Army. Every day, every week seemed to propel us closer and closer to a Yugoslav Armageddon and massacres in towns and villages and indiscriminate killings were commonplace. It appeared there were agitators everywhere, men in particular, who looked as if they were happy for the war to continue, happy to agitate and escalate the violence. It was plainly obvious to everyone that a major Kosovo war with Serbia was inevitable.

But there was still a little hope and I reminded myself of my wonderful parents and their outlook on life and how Nani and Agi always tried to take a positive stand, no matter what was going on around us. Agi said that stabilisation forces and NATO peacekeepers were on the ground and we just had to hope and pray that people would see sense and the peacekeepers would bring about a permanent ceasefire. And while there had been some small-scale violence in Veliki Trnovac, no one had been shot on our streets.