By SIMON MIRAKAJ
The fourth part
“Camps under the shadow of Tomorri, 44 years of internment”
Memoir
Memorie.al / I put these memories down on paper after a long period of hesitation. This is probably because the subjects were always fresh in my mind, which followed me mercilessly during the years after the fall of communism. But there comes a moment – when time takes its course – and the images of horror and suffering came fading to me – almost the suffering passed into oblivion. Then I decided to repeat the most impressive events – first in my mind – until they took the form of these narratives. As dim as these accounts may seem – they create the idea of the harsh reality and misery of the camps.
Continues from last issue
Divjaka “border area” – Savër 1966
From the end of August to the beginning of September, the corn harvest began. It was quite a heavy job. Harvesting was done with a sickle, so you would sit half-bent; the difficulty of this work was also increased by the heat, as the sun was still scorching. When the harvest ended in the sector where we lived (Savër), then we were sent to help other sectors to harvest corn. Cars came to the sector and took us to our destination.
When you looked at the workers in the car, you noticed wrinkled, chocolate-colored faces; did you say they had been to the beach all summer? They got the color from the sun, since everyone worked half-naked in the summer. To go to Çerêm, permission was required from the Department of Internal Affairs (since we were interned). The field of Tërbufi was buzzing with the voices of the workers. There the brigadiers dispersed the workers saying:
– “You will go to the harvest, you to the transport”.
As we approached him through the field, one of the workers in the car shouted:
– “Look, look at the train”!
Everyone took them on foot, between them and I, I started counting the wagons. I turned my head seeing where we were, I didn’t know, I was afraid to ask, that; “where are we and what is the name of this place”? Most people were scared. Me too, I said to myself; “when will you get on the train”?
– “Who do you like from the girls in the class, as far as I know, they all have a crush on you”?
– “What matters is how much I like them,” I tell him. – For example, I like you”! – she blushed and put her lips on gas and continued:
– “You are a cold chick…”!
– “I’m cold”?! – And I put my hand on his neck.
– “How does your hand look, cold?! Listen, I’m not cold, I like beauty, but I try to overcome my feelings. You know who I am. – Do you know that before I left for school, I presented at the appeal, in the morning and at dinner?! I couldn’t come to the evening of the dance, because they didn’t give me permission”.
She looked at me in surprise.
– “What have you done”?!
– “Ask my father, he knows what I did.”
Her father worked in the Executive Committee, he was a senior official. With that, we left the discussions and started the questions. We finished 20 questions and I say:
– “Let’s leave it for today, because we are tired”?
We got up, I took the bike, I went home. She usually did not enter the classroom without waiting for me, so that we could enter together. He was standing at the gate, waiting. I approached the gate, it was not there. I went up to the classroom, waited a bit and came down, she came, barely greeted me, it seems that the father had explained well who I am. I greeted him without asking. I went to the school yard, after a quarter of an hour he came and she passed me, without raising her head, she said to me:
– “I asked my father, he told me that you are like a family, a family of dangerous enemies.” – She told me these words and I saw that her eyes were full of tears.
– “You don’t love the Party or Comrade Enver”!
– “Listen, if you can raise your head, we will remain friends, and I will remember you as a good, smart girl. I haven’t done anything wrong, none, well, I’m sorry. I’m going to play ball with my friends.”
The friendship began to fade gradually. When, after the 90s, we had a prom date, they had announced him to come:
– “After the meeting, your friend from the bank, who used to be Simon” came to the meeting!
– “No, I can’t come, but tell him I apologize, we were young”!
Prom evening – Lushnje, 1968
I was in the last year of high school, as soon as the sixth lesson ended, the tutor professor entered the classroom. We were all on our feet to leave, the professor beckoned us; sit for two minutes.
– “Today at 20:30 we will have a literary and dancing evening, we beg you all to come”.
We left the classroom in a hurry, everyone discussing about the evening, only I was silent. I hear a voice:
– “Simon, wait a moment, please”, I stopped.
– “Weren’t you happy with the professor’s news that tonight we have a dance evening”?!
– “Yes, I was happy.”
– “I believe you will come”?
– “I don’t know what to say, I want to, but it’s not up to me.”
– “Who does it depend on? Please come and take me home and explain to me who it depends on.”
– “I am accompanying you; it is not good that they see us together”.
– “Hey, that’s what you always say.” We were walking down the street in silence, she stared:
– “I asked you who it depends on”?
– “You know that I am interned, every day I appear before the police, in the morning and at dinner. To come in the evening, I have to get permission from the police; my arrival depends on the police”. She looked at me in surprise and lowered her head.
– “Now I’m coming back”.
– “No, don’t run away, until I go out on the balcony and do it with my hand.”
She climbed the stairs of the palace and immediately came out on the balcony, waving to me. I headed home, thinking about the captain’s answer; ‘Will you give me permission’?
We used to make the appeal at 18.00 (in winter). After the captain called out the names, I stayed until the end. I had gotten ready, put on a pair of dock pants and pigskin shoes; I had worked in the summer, to buy them. I had put my pants under the mattress to be ironed. I approached the captain:
– “Mr. Captain, is it possible for you to give me permission to go to school, because we have a dance evening”?
– “Why, you know how to dance”?!
– “I have learned, I know a little”.
– “In the evening, I don’t go, do you want to go…?! No, no, there is no permission.” – I came back upset, rather than she would be sitting on the road, looking at when I would come. The next day she did not speak to me. During the long break he asked me:
– “Hey Simon, the police didn’t give you permission”?
– “No, he didn’t give it to me.”
– “I stayed on the street, waiting to see you.”
– “I told you, it doesn’t depend on me.”
Rainy day 1967
March had arrived with rain and, with a fierce cold. We, somewhat protected with umbrellas and some covered with artificial raincoats, continued on our way to the workplace, hoping that the rain would stop the momentum, but in vain, the rain continued at the same pace, accompanied by a wind , which did not resist even the umbrellas, which went out of order.
Someone said let’s go back, because the rain has no intention of stopping, the sky was covered by a thin layer of fog, taking away some of the light of the day. Let’s go over here and stop at the school that is nearby, there we won’t see anything wet from the rain, because we will see a very beautiful teacher, but we, how will we look to her, as slaves, twist the mug!
We continued on our way, our clothes were clinging to our bodies, when we arrived at the workplace; we started looking for some escape from the trees, to get under their arms, to protect ourselves as much as possible. We stayed for about an hour at the workplace, wet from the rain, it was past 11, and we decided to go back.
“I’m going to leave school, because there are also fires in the classrooms, – said D., when that teacher looks at us, she’ll feel sorry, she’ll put us inside to warm up, do whatever you want , run away”.
I followed him too; the clothes were clinging to his body. The school was not far, after a while we arrived, some entered the corridors, I decided to stay outside, under the shelter of the roof. D., followed my movements, when he didn’t see me in the corridors, he called; “Come on, you fool, come inside, come on, listen to me, you’ll regret it.”
The teacher opened the window a little, it seems she heard D. calling, she looked at me and I saw her a little stealthily. Most of the workers left so wet, they made their way home. I decided to approach the corridor, the cold had entered my core, I was shivering.
I heard the teacher ring the bell to announce the end of the lesson. The classroom door was opened, the students started to run out of the classroom, followed by the teacher’s gaze, which suddenly looked at me with pity. She was really beautiful, it was not D.’s fault, the braid thrown over her chest, it seemed to me that it added to her beauty.
When the students left, with a sweet smile, he turned to me; “Come in, because the stove is on and warm up, don’t hesitate”! Without answering, I followed behind.
She opened the door; the classroom was warm, the fire crackling in the stove. The teacher sat in front of me; “Wet dog, come closer to the fire”, I was under her orders, completely.
He went out a little and came back with a towel in his hand; “Take it and dry your head”, I grabbed the towel touching her hand, I saw that her face reddened, she grabbed my hands.
– “Oh how could you were”! – brought me closer to the fire.
– “Don’t be afraid, there is no one here, only one teacher is left at school, she is my friend”.
Oh god, what’s going on, it seemed like a dream, – what should I do?! She sat across from him, lifting her dress a little.
The sound of Çanga, in the camp of Savra
The changa was a disk taken from the plows of the Chinese tractor, hung on a pole, standing in front of the police command, consisting of the lieutenant of the Savra camp, Sulo Stërneci Lame and the captain, Hekuran Malija, both for the sake of the truth, they don’t remember badly, of course they did their duty.
Lieutenant Sulo didn’t last long in that position, because the so-called “nine thousandth” demobilized him as a soldier, for a while he became responsible for the sector, then he retired, but always a serious person, while Hekurani continued longer, until ’65 -sa, then they released him from , but he always remained a trusted man of the Security.
He did not receive his release from the police well, because he lost his salary, he received 8,000 ALL a month. Hekurani continued to appeal to us, not dressed as a policeman. One day, Fran Tina, who was interned, approached me near Hekuran, who was getting ready to read the names, that is, to make the appeal, and said:
– “O Hekuran, you are lucky to be freed, but we, where do you leave us, free”?! He didn’t like the statement of, that he had lost his fat salary, he saw Frani with a black face, but he didn’t answer her, he started to appeal.
The party of the camp sector, of course and by order of the Internal Branch – as a reward for the performance of the duty, they made him a brigadier and later, if I’m not mistaken, he ended up as a field guard, he was uneducated, but not a negative person.
Çanga, as I said above, was in front of the police office and sometimes the captor was hit with a stone, or the captor told Ali Gorrica, the guard of the cows, to hit him. Ali was having fun and fell hard, he considered himself an important person and he didn’t know how to stop, until the captain, or some passer-by, who was going to work, waved at him.
Its chilling sound warned the internees to come to the appeal at the time set by the command, usually at 6 in the morning and 6 in the evening in winter, but in summer the schedule changed, 5 in the morning and 8 in the evening. ..!
In the yard in front of the police office, the women gathered on one side and the men on the other, in the middle was the well, where we used buckets to draw water for drinking and washing. The women’s appeal continued until 1964, when they were released with restrictions, or as it was called, deported.
I remember when Ms. Hajrie Mulleti’s release, from the head of Lushnja’s Internal Branch, Nuçi Tira, who addressed him: “Hajrie Mulleti, you are released, but you are not allowed to go to Tirana, Durrës, Korçe, Shkodër, Sarandë, Gjirokastër”, in conclusion she has two cities left to go; in Fier, Berat and Lushnje.
After listening to the long list of prohibitions, Hajria says: “Mr. President, what is this release, release and don’t release”?!
The deportation served some for 5 years and some for 3 years, and then they were released; only the men remained on appeal. I hadn’t turned 15 yet.
My brother hadn’t even turned 17 years old, when the captain called Sokol, my brother and me:
– “Come, both of you, because the operator is looking for you in the office”! Mother and sister were at work, we were a little worried, but we went, I was dressed in shorts and with my brother and the captain, we left. After three minutes, we entered the operating office, where Llazar Goga, who was sitting at a table, as soon as he saw us, walked up and addressed us with a letter, which said: “Sokol and Simon Mirakaj, are sentenced to five years each internment”, and read us the rules, that we had to appear twice at the appeal, in the morning and at dinner.
Capter Hekurani told us the schedule of appearance at the appeal, at dinner. I happily looked at myself among the men and said to myself; when they had appraised me among these gentlemen, they were all astonished to see us:
– “What about you here”? – “Look, they told us to appear twice a day, with you in the appeal.” – I had no idea, later I realized that I was bound by invisible chains. The right to move freely, without asking permission from the police or operative, happened only on July 4, 1989, after a full 44 years. The documents of the Ministry of the Interior show that my brother and I have been convicted without interruption, with 5 years each, since 1945 – but because of our age, to keep it hidden, they did not bring us to appeal before the police or , to their trustees, that State Security had entrusted our control.
In the documents of the Ministry of the Interior, it is said that in 1954, the Internment – Deportation Commission met and decided that based on the law no. 649, of 1949, to punish the family of Kol Bib Mirakaj, Xina, Mojs, and Lek Mirakaj, the family of Pal Bib Mirakaj, Kune, Lajde, Sokol and Simon Mirakaj, the family of Pashuk Mirakaj, Cuba, Klora, Katrina and Zef Mirakaj, are sentenced to 5 years of internment. The Internment-Deportation Commission was established in 1955.
We had started the internment in 1945, in Berat, in 1949, in Tepelena, in 1954 in Saver in Lushnje, in 1969 in Gjaze in Lushnje, until 1989, when we would be released from there. Memorie.al
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