Nemanja Mitrovic with his dad in the hospital. Kosovo and Metohija
A monk from Visoki Decani told my husband and me on our recent visit to his monastery: “We used to reassure people to remain in Kosovo and Metohija – all of us, including the Vladyka, the brethren, and me, a sinner. We told them that running away from Kosovo was the same as self-betrayal. Back in my cell, I wondered what that actually meant for the Serbs – to continue living in their native land. It is easy for us, the monks: we reside in a monastery and, to the greater extent, have nowhere else to go – but how about someone who is married, has a large family, but he has no future whatsoever in terms of general life necessities? Sure, I always side with those who are staying no matter what, but I never, not even once, dared, and I never will, say anything against those who left Kosovo. I must confess: I know too well what is going on with the Serbs beyond the monastery walls, so I have no right whatsoever to blame them.”
“Yesterday, a group of Albanians violently attacked a young man who was standing at the entrance of his house in the village of Babin Most. A young man was stabbed several times with a knife. His father ran out to protect his son and he was wounded, too. Both suffered from serious injuries. The attackers were released following forty eight hour stay in the police department, while the relatives of the wounded Serbs informed of a great number of other instances of violence and attacks that took place in their village. The Serbian officials and organizations condemned this attack. The young man’s father informed that it was hardly the only incident: their attackers tried to abduct their daughter and have beaten their younger son. Similar incidents against other Orthodox Serbs are taking place all the time in their village, and everyone is aware of it.”
That’s how we start our day here in Kosovo and Metohija – by learning about the news such as this one.
So, really, what should we do? We, the mothers: holding one child by the hand and bearing another in the womb. We see how our sons are attacked with knives, – so we rush to protect and share their pain with them. Because we’ve got no help. Except from the Lord: we rely on His protection, it is His church that provides shelter to us: this is where we can find salvation. All other doors are shut before us, the words are full of lies, and the promises we hear are empty. It makes no sense to seek the truth, as we are outside the law. We are the Serbs of Kosovo and Metohija: that’s what is our transgression, and our fault is simply terrible.
… But when a Serbian child is attacked by a rabid mob, – like it happened the other day, or, how it happens almost daily, – we lock ourselves in our homes and hold on to hope that such things won’t happen to our child. But our hopes, they are all in vain. Any Serb here has become that father from Babin Most whose son has almost died outside their home, or any other Serb here in Kosovo and Metohija, – they are that Nemanja Mitrovic from the village of Babin Most, who is currently lying in the hospital with knife wounds, next to his father. He was the one who was told, and not just once: “Go away! Everything here is ours, and you can’t do anything to us. We’ll kill you.”
…Two minutes of a news report on TV, a dull voice of a news presenter, a couple of commentaries, one photo – and that’s it, that’s all for the reaction for the rest of Serbia! Forty-eight hours in the police department for the criminals. And the parents who have no idea how to go on with their life.
The unknown, the uncertainty, and fear have been the reality of our daily life for more than twenty years already. The Serbs of Kosovo and Metohija can’t simply go about “planning their day” – they will have other things to worry about when they hear of such crimes over a morning coffee: when they should be thankful they made it out alive. The life here is planned differently, totally differently. When they hear on the news about another tragedy in a nearby village or settlement, they simply gasp and then switch to another channel.
While the winds of “global politics” are blowing high above our heads, we pack our emergency go bags and leave them beside the entrance doors – in case a need arises for us to flee. What keeps us here? The inborn confidence that you reside in the sacred land. Yes, it makes up for some really strong roots. Owing to them, we are still here fighting – against our enemies we know about and those so-called clandestine “friends,” who dream and aim to reduce us, or even the memory of Christians in this land, to dust. The ones who don’t believe in Christ are laughing at some kind of a “soul” in men, and they will never understand our steadfastness and heroic deed. But those who know about God, they can be proud of us: we are still here, and we still are praying. Deprived of the right to be free, living as rogues, without our own state… But we still keep our faith in Divine truth and it is way more powerful than the truth of this world.
