The former Yugoslavia was created by 6 republics and 2 autonomies in 1945 by Communistic party and the leadership of Josip Broz Tito. The former republics were Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, Monte Negro and Macedonia and two autonomies -- Vojvodina and Kosovo. All vital administrative and political decisions were placed in the capital -- Belgrade, Republic Serbia. The country was fertile with natural, ethnic, cultural and social riches. In 1980, the leader of Yugoslav country, Josip Broz Tito, died. The whole nation was crying. I was a young child and I was crying.

In 1991, Slovenia and Croatia recognized its independence and democracy. This caused a military activities under leadership of Serbia republic against Croatia. The same year, the UN troops were invited to stop violations against humanity in Vukovar, the eastern Croatia and prevent the spread of conflict to the neighboring countries and territories.

In 1992, Bosnia and Herzegovina, with its three major ethnic groups Muslims 43%, Croatians or Chatolics 17% and Orthodox Christians or Serbians 33%, held referendum for its independence while Serbian population boycotted the vote.

On April 6 1992, the Bosnian independence was recognized by the European Union. The Yugoslav army, completely controlled by Serbs attacked the capital Sarajevo, while the civilians protested and sang the song of unity and undivided Bosnia and Herzegovina. In just few months of the conflict, the Serbian troops were able to establish their control in more than 50 % of Bosnian territory. The attack on this young, independent and democratic country was strategic and systematic.

On May 24, 1992, my home town, Kozarac, placed in the valley of the mountain Kozara, was surrounded and densely invaded. Before the war the population of this town was 24 000, where majority were Muslims. The town had its long history established by the Ottoman Empire.

There were 15 major mosques, one Catholic and one Orthodox church, built a 100 years ago by Muslims, Serbs and Croats to support Christian inhabitants. Two days after the attack, the Serbian soldiers entered into the town. Everything valuable would be plundered; cars, furniture, gold, food, rugs, and etc. They would search the smallest holes trying to find a host who would be hiding.

The homes, buildings, hospital, the town hole and mosques were burning down. The civilians that were taken from their homes and those who saw no chance to survive in the town, were brought to the main street. Women and children were lined up on the left side, men on the right side.

My father, who was with me the whole time during the bomb shelling, was separated now. I did not know anything about my mother and my brother, who left to visit my grandparents the day before the attack. At the end of the street our identity and personal belongings were checked and taken away.

One of the soldiers was reading the list of Muslims that they were looking for. The list contained the names of people who were politically, economically or socially active, and who were intellectuals or potential leaders in the society. My friends name was read, my cousin’s name was read, and my mother’s name was read. Men, from the list, that were recognized by our former neighbors and friends Serbs, were taken to the white house, from where we could hear men’s scream and slaughtering.

The same day I was brought to the camp Trnopolje, a few miles away from my home town. There I recognized some of my neighbors and friends. We were not aware where we were kept. A few days later, my father and my mother, along with other 3, 000 people, were brought to the camp. The camp was divided by two buildings.

Old cinema, where women and children were kept, and elementary school, where men were imprisoned. Days and nights would pass. We did not get food or water. Serbian soldiers announced to the Trnopolje Muslim population, who were still in their homes, to bring food for the prisoners. Women were trying to hand food to the starving prisoners. Some of them were successful, while others were harassed by the soldiers and forced to leave before they handed the food.

These two rooms were used to interrogate the prisoners. We knew whoever was brought to these rooms would not return alive or would die soon from damages of beatings. My close friend was brought in. The next day he was found dead and a prisoner was forced to clean the room from his blood.

One early morning the cries and screams of women woke me up. Women’s faces were filled with fear. I tried to look what was going on. My mother kept me not to. She told me to sit down and forbid me to look. I heard women’s voices describing the refrigerator trucks leaving the area of the camp and blood that was on the walls of the trucks. Later that day, we were looking for the people that were missing.

When the night would come, the death would come along. The soldiers would come to the hall where women were kept. With the light they would look for mainly young ones. The women were silent. The moment the one was chosen she would quietly ask God for help, while others were praying for missing the turn on them.

I felt the light over my body. I squeezed my mother’s skirt. I had a scarf covering my hear and hiding my face. The soldier was mistaken that I was an old traditional Muslim woman. He chose the girl next to me. She was thirteen. That night they took about 13 women.

One of them was my highschool friend. She and couple of others were returned in the morning. Raped by eight men the first day, she was in coma. Later she refused to talk.

We learned about the existence of the death camps Omarska and Ceraterm. We feared to be one day taken there.

In July, the convoys were prepared. It was the time when Serbians decided to clean the area and the Serbian territory from the “Turkish Shit”. Crowded hardly to breath we were brought to Kozarac. For two hours on sun without a fresh air, we were kept in buses and forced to watch our burning homes.

The strategy was to destroy any desire in survivals to every return. After the travel for the whole day, we were used as human shield between fighting lines. My father was kept in the camp.