By Maksim Rakipaj
The third part
Memorie.al / Maksim Rakipaj, originally from Përmet, whose family had helped and supported the Anti-Fascist National Liberation War, after graduating from the Navy School in Vlora, in 1972 he was appointed an officer in the Merchant Navy, where he served with dedication until in 1977, on the “Durrësi” steamer, he was arrested and sentenced to 15 years in political prison, as part of a “group”, which also included his colleague, Aladin Kapo, the son of Hysni Kapo’s brother. Family biography was also the reason for his punishment. After the end of the war, two of his uncles were sentenced to political prison, his grandfather was declared a kulak and in 1976, his father was expelled from the party. Maksi began serving his sentence in the Ballsh camp and in 1979, he was transferred to the Spaçi camp and then to the Qafë Bari camp. He was released on September 12, 1984, benefiting from a reduced sentence, from an amnesty. After being unemployed for a long time, with many hardships, he got a job as a miner in the Mzezet mine, he worked until 1991. After the 1991s, he started working in the administration of the Municipality of Durrës, he served until 1997 and after that, he returned to the Merchant Navy (the last captain of the transoceanic ship “Vlora”), until he left Albania for Italy, (illegally on a dinghy), where he currently lives for many years. Since the 90s, in addition to various jobs, Maksim Rakipaj has also devoted himself to writing, such as; poetry, prose, fiction or documentary, translations, etc., publishing several books, such as: ‘Prophet – Khalil Gibran’, (translation from English ‘Toena’ 2003), ’20 love poems and a song of sadness’, (translation from Spanish, ‘Toena’ 2003), ‘Alive after the shipwreck’, (published by ISKK, 2014), ‘Bukowski – poetry’, (translation from English, ‘ENEAS’, 2015), ‘Trilusa m’Tirône’, ( translation from Italian, ‘UEGEN’, 2015), ‘Anthology of Arabic-Persian Poetry’ (English translations, ‘UEGEN’, 2015), ‘The Complete Sonnets of Shakespeare’, (English translation, ‘ADA’ 2016′) , ‘Survivor’ (autobiographical novel, ‘2 East, 2 West’ 2018), ‘Nobelists – poetic anthology, (UEGEN 2019), ‘Hymn of happiness’ (‘JOZEF’ 2023), etc. From the creativity of Mr. Rakipaj, Memorie.al is publishing the book “Survivor”, (published in 2022 by “JOZEF” Publishing House in Durrës, directed by Mr. Aurel Kaçulini), where he has described his life chronologically, where the part the main one is that of serving the sentence in camps and prisons, as well as various characters, his co-sufferers that he met in the communist hell, etc.
Continues from last issue
My father
In March 1974, I was assigned as an IV officer on the steamship “Durresi”, nearly five thousand tons, the largest after the ship “Vlora”. I became friends with almost everyone, right from the start. Most were wonderful people, the few spies who were part of the crew were known and guarded by everyone.
Im the one who was very pleased with me. He was waiting for me on the day of our return and escorted me on the last day. He treated me as a friend, or as a little brother in those years…we had a drink together at the “Ylli” buffet, before I left, and often in those escorts or receptions, the good, unforgettable Hilmi Hoxha, one of his closest friends, as well as any other. Hilmiu, always cheerful, teased the father: “Leave the boy alone, Xhafer, because he has friends and girlfriends to meet…”! Dad was waiting for him: “They know, Hilmi, they know… the first day and the last day are mine.”
And they laughed. I always remember those moments fondly. I felt good, protected, in their company. I had something to learn from them. I remember them fondly, because they were also my friends, Hilmi Hoxha, Eng. Ilia Plasa, Hiqmet Mullaj, Hasan Kuqi from Mamurrasi, Ndoc Deda, Serxho Margariti and many others. They did a lot for each other.
If they found out that you had a problem, it was not necessary to ask them for help. It wasn’t just my friends; it was my friends too. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he said to me before I was arrested, “what kind of work can you do when you grow up… when I come to wait and see you on the deck of the ship… what can I say! you’re in the work it does for you”.
“…that’s how you cut the figs with all the shavings, my dad…”
…Besides the company of the officers, with whom I was connected by age and profession, I also remember with great affection the mechanics of the ship. One of them, Riza Ceka, an old man and a kind soul, often came to my cabin and I always returned his visits. He was very close to me, especially during 1976, when my father was expelled from the party; “for alleviating the class war and helping the class enemy”! The good Xake once told me: “This story was told to me by the old man, who is from Shijak’s villages…!
It was August 1944 in the morning, the time of figs, when the partisans were passing through the village, dressed in English clothes. We all went outside, I didn’t see that there was so much noise here, we didn’t have any money…! When I entered the wall through my trunk, I breathed a few breaths, they were painted… well, I said, my figs were seeded, there’s a seed here, there’s not even a leaf on the branches… when, however, I saw the old man, who stretched out his hand and picked a couple of seeds… I snorted: – ‘don’t wash the figs on Monday…’!
They left the cuckoo in their arms, remember that they will put in naughty nanji, we don’t want to. Naloj group of partisans. Here comes the old man: – ‘Your fig tree’? – ‘Yes’, – I told him. “But don’t beg them for two figs, because they didn’t grow, I barely got enough of them…”!
– ” He decided that the court divides”, this mu…!
– “What’s the trial, Mr. Dad, a trial for two figs, isn’t it…”?!
“It’s half an hour…’ – I’m going to shoot that partisan’, – you tell me, take me to the neighbor…”!
– “Go away, you fool”, – I said, – Don’t make fun of me…- when I heard the drum, papapap”
I took my shoe and cut the fig tree…! Today, aunts say; ” partisan fig tree “, you eat figs from the fig tree. “These partisans, flowers will take their place “, – we used to say at that time, this one kills his own slave, for a grain of salt he extinguishes ours, when they have the power, they have to give thanks, they think this is only for our good, you know how they say, don’t you… “I want to come with a spoonful of gold”, hey, thank God that we made it to this day! for finger-to-mouth gasp…! How did we desert people know that they picked the figs for themselves, Dad, with all the shavings, why, only the figs?! All, with all the soul….”!
Threshold of arrest
In the years 1974-77, I was an IV or III officer on the ship “Durrësi”. We had captain F. K., who attended a naval school in Bulgaria. All four officers are young, average age 26 years. We all get along well with each other. There is harmony throughout the crew. The payment in dollars that we are given when we travel abroad is very small, on average less than $20, for a trip to Poland, which lasts over a month and sometimes two or more.
Most of the crew secure some dollars or gold coins through acquaintances to supplement the income. This is dangerous, if you are dictated to by customs or spies. In 1975-’76, several arrests were made on the ship “Teuta” and “Mati” for these actions, which are called; “qualified contraband”, according to the criminal code. At the beginning of 1976, a sailor of our ship F. Z., from the city of Vlora, told me in confidence:
– Makso, Skender Gj., who is a Security Operative and I have mine, told me that now, it is the turn of the ship “Durrësi” and they intend to “burn our ship completely”…! What are we going to do?! I told Aladdin too, but he didn’t break his head, he has warm shoulders.
Even the captain, who is an expert like me and knows me, after 6 months of working with him, tells me: “Open your eyes, don’t hang out with that Aladdin Capo, because he not only deals in smuggling, but also he’s full of other flaws…! If his mind lies to him, that there is someone to protect him, don’t forget: You are not Hysni Kapo’s grandson, there is no one to protect you”!
As Aladdin’s close friend, I immediately inform him of the captain’s words. You don’t give it much importance…! “I know, our captain hangs out with Security people, I also know that he doesn’t like me and I’m very impressed by his open, hostile behavior towards me. It doesn’t matter to me.” Even a sailor of our ship, H. K., was removed from the ship and transferred to the internal transport, for a case of smuggling.
In the middle of ’76, a ship’s mechanic, Huluz Sh., comes worriedly to the ship and meets me when I am with Aladdin, in his cabin: “Chuna, how good I found you together. Listen, you know that a cousin of mine, works in Dega. He told me that H.K. has denounced everything, what he knows about the state of our ship, with names, facts, dates. I saw them with my own eyes, my names, for God’s sake I tell you …! He didn’t say anything about me, that I’m always on his guard, I don’t trust him. Whatever you have to do, do it before it’s too late. I’m in your debt”! What about this one!? This is what a good guy looks like, that you can trust…or is it a provocation by those from the Security?
I feel eavesdropped. In the “Volga” bar in Durrës, every time I enter, a guy with a black mustache immediately sits down in front of me. I don’t know his name, but I know he’s a Branch spy. This one has the duty to follow me from “Vollga” to the City Hall. It changes there. From there, to the Shkozeti bus station, a Shkozeti guy started following me. They call him E. G. and his peers know him by the nickname “shurrsi”, because he used to pee in his panties until he was 15 years old.
A girl I know tells me: “You’re lucky, you go out and you don’t feel like breathing, here in Albania. You don’t dare to wear what you like, you have to turn the radio down to a minimum, because the neighbor spies on you, because she is listening to foreign music”! She was 16 years old, in ’75. When I told him that he shouldn’t talk to everyone like that, he answered me seriously: “Why, I’m small”?!
I put the thought of escape out of my mind, even though I had my mother’s uncle’s address in America. When I thought how they could take revenge against my family, my sisters, my brother, my parents, in case I escaped, my blood froze. I couldn’t do that. I would never be happy if my people were to suffer. Let them arrest me. I decided, I will not run away. No matter what, how much will they punish me for a few dollars…?!
INTERMEXO I
War time, war game
1 – I cry, the commissioner cries…!
On November 28, 2012, all of us Albanians celebrated, as we could, inside and outside the country, the 100th anniversary of Independence. A day later, the 29th comes and discussions about this date bring more fights…! For many years in communist Albania, it has been celebrated with great pomp and fanfare, as the day of liberation, as the biggest holiday since the world was created…! My friend, Islam Spahiu, used to say in Spaç, in those years…: “How well they found it, they told me the day of liberation… do you mean they don’t know that in the Albanian language, the prefix “ç” gives the opposite meaning to the name”?!
…And really, what worst “liberation” has this country ever seen…?! Another wise Vlonjat, (who started the war as a partisan; ended it as a ballist and birder; he escaped in ’45; he returned willingly in ’62, after an amnesty; he was imprisoned a short time later pas), I can’t remember his name, he used to say: – “I have only respect for the simple partisan, the ballista and the birdman. When the homeland needed it, they didn’t hide like rats, but grabbed their weapons…! They are not to blame, for their bosses, who shook him like whores…”!
Very nice. But what was our fault when Roosevelt, Churchill, de Gaulle sold us to Stalin’s mustache?!
The Communist Party was very strong in Greece, but Greece was saved by the old whore, Europe, and Stalin ordered the Greek partisans to surrender their weapons; He ordered Enver to close the border with Greece. That’s how it happened and the Greek partisans were slaughtered just like the Chams…! Leave us comfortable with that; “Glory to the day of liberation”, by God…! I remember one time, when my grandmother was alive and a former partisan, began to talk about the liberation of Korça: “We fought a war, we fought a war, until we drove the Germans out of Korça!
– “But why are you lying, your black man!” – said my grandmother, – yes, I myself was in Korça at that time…! Germany, what do you say, it was a week or so ago that you left, but you didn’t know anything? How stupid I heard, that the German had no foot in the city, the Llahtaris of the world, the Llahtaris attacked, boom and boom, with rifles and bombs”.
I met another former Pogradec partisan in Spaç. We had a few chats together because he knew some of my people. He was laughing one day at the stand, where they had posted; “Voice of the People”… – “What are you laughing at”? – I asked her
– “Eeh… it’s for crying, not for laughing.” They wrote this year, too, about an ambush we made for the Germans in the Thana Pass. The truth is that, when the German convoy was passing north, we hit it from above. The Germans got out of the trucks, one pair raised their mortars and the others, with their sleeves rolled up, began to climb uphill without batting an eye.
Run away, because it hurt our ass… we ran away, as you say, we didn’t see where we came from. After some months, the battalion was assembled again. Here, for this they gave me ten years, even though I was wounded in the war, three times. I’m not saying that we didn’t try, but that day, we ran away.” -“Lie, they told me, you are an enemy! 10 years”! -“And why? Why did I say the truth…”!
…On the ship “Durrësi”, where I was appointed an officer of the IV in 1974, I also met a sailor who had been a partisan, Selam S., from a village in Tepelena. Selam was a funny, mouthy guy. He was able to keep you going by telling stories, boats and boats, all the way from Durrës to Gdansk and back.
– “Since I was small – said Selami – only 15 years old, the commissar assigned me to be a courier. ‘You’re small for a rifle’, he told me, ‘When you grow up, we’ll see.’ I enjoyed doing the courier job. I knew the places by heart, I knew all the paths. Once I was returning to my battalion with a letter from the brigade command. When I was approaching the place where the partisans were supposed to be, suddenly, from some bushes, I heard a noise…!
I held my legs, opened the thorns and the ass of the commissar appeared in front of me, with a woman under him. But his ass, well, it came and went. The poor thing moaned: ‘Uh, uh, uh, black. The bad, commissioner! It was Zenepja. The commissar heard the noise I made, grabbed ‘Walter’ and pointed at me. Don’t! said Zenepja, “I didn’t kill him, it’s Selami, jhunah”…! What if this one show?! No, no, we are killing him and we are comfortable’. Thank you that Zenepja stood firm, because I said the dog killed me”.
– “What was that commissar called, Selo”?
– “Don’t eat shit, she’s a member of the Nashti bureau… and Zenepja, her name isn’t Zenepe… she’s the wife of a big man. Aman, I saved the evil then, I don’t like to eat dinner in my old age…”!
“And then, Selo, what happened”?!
– “After that, Zenepja put her nipples inside, or how she had them, as big as your head, she had one, you evil one, and she said to me: ‘Come here to my sister, Selo, come. You haven’t seen anything, have you?! Or have you seen? and he told me the story. ‘No, no, I haven’t seen anything, nothing, about my father’s head, I haven’t seen anything’… The commissar, who had raised his glasses, rubbed my head (he wiped his hands on my head… a week was coming head wind through), he took out an English chocolate from his bag and giving it to me, he said: ‘So, good luck! Eat this here and run away…”!
“The war ended – continued Selami – It was the middle of ’45. I was going to the hospital in Tirana, to meet an injured friend. When do you want? Zenepya! ‘Wow, bad sister, who came to me, whoa, whoa, whoa. You’ve become a man, you got Satan’ and squeezed my head, between my breasts, Zenepja… I said it took my breath away.
‘Have you seen the commissioner again, Zenepe’? I asked him politely. ‘Last night, bad sister, last night, I had the commissar at home. That I am the only one, in a cottage of those bourgeois, the evil one. O calf, can you see my house? Here, as I told you, we made it with the commissar, O Salam. Who was sleepy or evil? Wow tears, all night. Wow, I’m crying, I’m crying commissar”! Memorie.al
The next issue follows
