Plagued by nationalist-political narratives and rabble-rousing rhetoric, Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH) is facing its worst political crisis since the end of the 1992-1995 conflict. However, street art in the country’s capital points to the possibility of reconciliation and peaceful coexistence in a society still polarized by the wounds of war.
On the 27th anniversary of the crimes against Tuzla's youth, the Srebrenica Memorial Center premiered the film „Kapija '95“, produced by the Post-Conflict Research Center, the Srebrenica Memorial Center, and the British production company Pinch Media.
As part of the pre-program of Trnjanski kresovi to commemorate the liberation of Zagreb by the partisans on May 7th, the Zagreb Antifascist Network Zagreb organized Anti walks in cooperation with Documenta and researcher Tena Banjeglav.
I had heard his story before. In fact, I had read and re-read it dozens of times already. But, as I listened to Ahmed Ustić’s Death March story, there was no way of quelling the strange paralysis that I had felt when I first read the account of this young man’s horrifying six-day journey for survival.
The story could have started like this: I have one child, a son, the apple of my eye, my pride and joy. The story could also have started like this: we live our “happily ever after,” and our two kids are chasing their dreams. Life is nice, comfortable. He has a job and I take care of the kids and the house. We are happy. It even could have started like this: I have a mother and a sister. We are inseparable. We could chat over a cup of coffee for hours.
The Memorial Center in Srebrenica strives to preserve the memory of genocide and combat its denial. A young volunteer from Visoko, Amina Žiga, has been part of the team for a year, even though she is not from Srebrenica.