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Authors: Zlata Filipovic

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Your Zlata
Saturday, May 30, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
The City Maternity Hospital has burned down. I was born there. Hundreds of thousands of new babies, new residents of Sarajevo, won't have the luck to be born in this maternity hospital now. It was new. The fire devoured everything. The mothers and babies were saved. When the fire broke out two women were giving birth. The babies are alive. God, people get killed here, they die here, they disappear, things go up in flames here, and out of the flames, new lives are born.
Your Zlata
Monday, June 1, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
Today is Maja's birthday. She's eighteen. She's an adult now. She's a grown-up. It's an important day in her life, but, what can you do, she's celebrating it in wartime. We all did our best to make this day special for her, but she was sad and moody. Why did this war have to ruin everything for her? Maja isn't even having her senior prom, or an evening gown. All there is here is war, war and more war.
Fortunately, there wasn't too much shooting, so we could sit in peace. Auntie Boda made a special lunch (how special can it be in wartime???). Mommy used the last walnuts in the house to make a cake (Maja and her eighteen years deserve it). We gave her a necklace and bracelet made of Ohrid pearls. She got a lot of valuable presents made of gold. Well, you're only eighteen once in your life. Happy birthday to you Maja on this big day, may all your other birthdays be celebrated in peace.
Zlata
Friday, June 5, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
There's been no electricity for quite some time and we keep thinking about the food in the freezer. There's not much left as it is. It would be a pity for all of it to go bad. There's meat and vegetables and fruit. How can we save it?
Daddy found an old wood-burning stove in the attic. It's so old it looks funny. In the cellar we found some wood, put the stove outside in the yard, lit it and are trying to save the food from the refrigerator. We cooked everything, and joining forces with the Bobars, enjoyed ourselves. There was veal and chicken, squid, cherry strudel, meat and potato pies. All sorts of things. It's a pity, though, that we had to eat everything so quickly. We even overate. WE HAD A MEAT STROKE.
We washed down our refrigerators and freezers. Who knows when we'll be able to cook like this again. Food is becoming a big problem in Sarajevo. There's nothing to buy, and even cigarettes and coffee are becoming a problem for grown-ups. The last reserves are being used up. God, are we going to go hungry to boot???
Zlata
Wednesday, June 10, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
At about eleven o'clock last night it started to thunder again. No, not the weather, the shells. We ran over to Nedo's. I fell asleep there, but Mommy and Daddy went back home.
There's no electricity. We're cooking on the wood stove in the yard. Everybody is. The whole neighborhood. What luck to have this old stove.
Daddy and Žika keep fiddling with the radio, listening to the news. They found RFI (Radio France Internationale) in our language. That's at nine o'clock in the evening and they listen to it regularly. Bojana and I usually play cards, word games or draw something.
Love,
Zlata
Sunday, June 14, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
There's still no electricity, so we're still cooking on the stove in the yard. Around 2:00, when we were doing something around the stove, a shell fell on the opposite corner of the street, destroying Zoka's wonderful jewelry shop. We ran straight to the cellar, waiting for the barrage. Luckily there was only that one shell, so we went back at around 4:00. Your Zlata
Tuesday, June 16, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
Our windows are broken. All of them except the ones in my room. That's the result of the revolting shell that fell again on Zoka's jewelry shop, across the way from us. I was alone in the house at the time. Mommy and Daddy were down in the yard, getting lunch ready, and I had gone upstairs to set the table. Suddenly I heard a terrible bang and glass breaking. I was terrified and ran toward the hall. That same moment, Mommy and Daddy were at the door. Out of breath, worried, sweating and pale they hugged me and we ran to the cellar, because the shells usually come one after the other. When I realized what had happened, I started to cry and shake. Everybody tried to calm me down, but I was very upset. I barely managed to pull myself together.
We returned to the apartment to find the rooms full of glass and the windows broken. We cleared away the glass and put plastic sheeting over the windows. We had had a close shave with that shell and shrapnel. I picked up a piece of shrapnel and the tail end of a grenade, put them in a box and thanked God I had been in the kitchen, because I could have been hit ... HORRIBLE! I don't know how often I've written that word. HORRIBLE. We've had too much horror. The days here are full of horror. Maybe we in Sarajevo could rename the day and call it horror, because that's really what it's like.
 
Love,
Zlata
Thursday, June 18, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
Today we heard some more sad, sad news. Our country house in Crnotina, a tower that's about 150 years old, has burned down. Like the post office, it disappeared in the flames. I loved it so much. We spent last summer there. I had a wonderful time. I always looked forward to going there. We had redone it so nicely, bought new furniture, new rugs, put in new windows, given it all our love and warmth, and its beauty was our reward. It lived through so many wars, so many years and now it's gone. It has burned down to the ground. Our neighbors Ziga, Meho and Bečir were killed. That's even sadder. Vildana's house also burned down. All the houses burned down. Lots of people were killed. It's terribly sad news.
I keep asking why? What for? Who's to blame? I ask, but there's no answer. All I know is that we are living in misery. Yes, I know, politics is to blame for it all. I said I wasn't interested in politics, but in order to find out the answer I have to know something about it. They tell me only a few things. I'll probably find out and understand much more one day. Mommy and Daddy don't discuss politics with me. They probably think I'm too young or maybe they themselves don't know anything. They just keep telling me: This will pass—“it has to pass”????????
Your Zlata
Saturday, June 20, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
Auntie Radmila (Mommy's friend from work) came today. She came from Vojničko polje (a new housing complex). Her apartment has been completely destroyed. Wiped out in the shelling. Everything in it has been destroyed. All that's left is a useless pile of furniture, clothes, pictures and all the other things that go into an apartment. She's sad, because her daughters Sunčica and Mirna aren't there (they're in Zagreb), but she's glad they didn't have to live through the hell of Vojničko polje. Today we heard that Narmin Tulič, the actor at the Experimental Theater, lost both his legs. Awful! Awful! Awful!
Saša went to stay with his grandmother. But he'll probably be coming back.
Your Zlata
Monday, June 22, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
More blood on the streets of Sarajevo. Another massacre. In Tito Street. Three people killed, thirty-five wounded. Shells fell on Radič, Miss Irbin and Šenoa streets. About fifteen people were killed in the three streets. I'm worried that something may have happened to Marina', Marijana's or Ivana's parents.
These people just go on killing. MURDERS!
I pity them for being so very, very stupid, so servile, for humiliating themselves so much in front of certain people. Terrible!!!!!!
Your Zlata
Tuesday, June 23, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
Cicko could have been killed today. He fell out of the kitchen window onto a tin roof. We ran downstairs into the yard and brought him in. He just lay there in the corner of his cage, blinking madly. I tried to cheer him up with a leaf of lettuce. Fortunately he survived.
A shell fell on the central market and the cathedral today.
The electricity went out at eight o'clock last night. It's now 11:30 and it's still not back.
HORRIBLE
Zlata
Wednesday, June 24, 1992
Dear Mimmy, 9:45—the water is back on. Still no electricity. 10:30—we've still got water. 12:00—no water, but we've got electricity.
YESSS!
Mimmy, I've just realized that all my friends have left: Oga, Martina, Matea, Dejan, Vanja and Andrej.
OHHHH!
They're shooting outside. Bojana and I aren't allowed to go out into the yard, so we're rollerskating in the lobby of their building. It's not bad!
These are the books I've read so far:
Mommy I
Love You, Eagles Fly Early, and the next book I'm going to read is Little Toto.
Your Zlata
Monday, June 29, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
BOREDOM!!! SHOOTING!!! SHELLING!!! PEOPLE BEING KILLED!!! DESPAIR!!! HUNGER!!! MISERY!!! FEAR!!!
That's my life! The life of an innocent eleven-year-old schoolgirl!! A schoolgirl without a school, without the fun and excitement of school. A child without games, without friends, without the sun, without birds, without nature, without fruit, without chocolate or sweets, with just a little powdered milk. In short, a child without a childhood. A wartime child. I now realize that I am really living through a war, I am witnessing an ugly, disgusting war. I and thousands of other children in this town that is being destroyed, that is crying, weeping, seeking help, but getting none. God, will this ever stop, will I ever be a schoolgirl again, will I ever enjoy my childhood again? I once heard that childhood is the most wonderful time of your life. And it is. I loved it, and now an ugly war is taking it all away from me. Why? I feel sad. I feel like crying. I am crying.
Your Zlata
Thursday, July 2, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
We gave ourselves a treat today. We picked the cherries off the tree in the yard and ate them all up. We had watched it blossom and its small green fruits slowly turn red and now here we were eating them. Oh, you're a wonderful cherry tree! The plum tree hasn't gotten any fruit so we won't even get to try it! I miss fruit a lot. In these days of war in Sarajevo, there is no basic food or any of the other things a person needs, and there is no fruit. But now I can say that I ate myself silly on cherries.
Braco, Mommy's brother, is getting better. He's even walking a bit now.
Zlata
Friday, July 3, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
Mommy goes to work at her new office. She goes if there's no shooting, but we never know when the shelling will start. It's dangerous to walk around town. It's especially dangerous to cross our bridge, because snipers shoot at you. You have to run across. Every time she goes out, Daddy and I go to the window to watch her run. Mommy says: “I didn't know the Miljacka (our river) was so wide. You run, and you run, and you run, and there's no end to the bridge.” That's fear, Mimmy, fear that you'll be hit by something.
Daddy doesn't go to work. The two of us stay at home, waiting for Mommy. When the sirens go off we worry about how and when and if she'll get home. Oh, the relief when she walks in!
Neda came for lunch today. Afterward we played cards. Neda said something about going to Zagreb. It made Mommy sad, because they've been friends since childhood. They grew up together, spent their whole lives together. I was sad too because I love her and I know she loves me.
Zlata
Sunday, July 5, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
I don't remember when I last left the house. It must be almost two months ago now. I really miss Grandma and Granddad. I used to go there every day, and now I haven't seen them for such a long time.
I spend my days in the house and in the cellar. That's my wartime childhood. And it's summer. Other children are vacationing on the seaside, in the mountains, swimming, sunbathing, enjoying themselves. God, what did I do to deserve being in a war, spending my days in a way that no child should. I feel caged. All I can see through the broken windows is the park in front of my house. Empty, deserted, no children, no joy. I hear the sound of shells, and everything around me smells of war. War is now my life. OOHHH, I can't stand it anymore! I want to scream and cry. I wish I could play the piano at least, but I can't even do that because it's in “the dangerous room,” where I'm not allowed. How long is this going to go on???
Zlata
Tuesday, July 7, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
There was no water yesterday, the day before or the day before that. It came at around 8:30 this morning and now, at 10:30, it's slowly disappearing again.
We filled whatever we could find with water and now have to save on the precious liquid. You have to save on everything in this war, including water and food.
Mommy is at work, Daddy is reading something and I'm going to Bojana's because there's no shooting.
Saturday, July 11, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
Nedo brought us a little visitor today. A kitten. It followed him and he couldn't just leave it in the street so he picked it up and brought it home. We'll call it Skinny Lanky, Kitty, Mikana, Persa, Cici ... ???? It's orange, has white socks and a white patch on its chest. It's cute, but a little wild.
Zlata
Tuesday, July 14, 1992
Dear Mimmy,
On July 8 we got a UN package. Humanitarian aid. Inside were 6 cans of beef, 5 cans of fish, 2 boxes of cheese, 3 kilos of detergent, 5 bars of soap, 2 kilos of sugar and 5 liters of cooking oil. All in all, a super package. But Daddy had to stand in line for four hours to get it.
BOOK: Zlata's Diary
13.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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