By Reshat KRIPA
Part Ten
Memorie.al / Arbëri was sitting in his corner in the hall, awaiting the arrival of the airplane that would take him to another world, and he was meditating. He meditated and dreamed of the path full of nettles and thorns through which his life had passed. He recalled the worries that had accompanied him for years. He had many passions. He wanted to become a lawyer, journalist, doctor, engineer, artist, writer, or anything else that might be possible. But fate had condemned him not to reach any of the dreamt-of peaks. He encountered disappointment at every step of his life.
Continued from the last issue
The Operative met Ibrahimi. He greeted him warmly. He started asking about his parents and sister. He also asked about his brother:
– “Have you been to see him recently?”
– “No,” – Ibrahimi replied, worried.
– “You are very wrong. You should go and meet him. He needs you. You are the older brother and you should advise him on how he should behave.”
– “Is that so?”
– “Exactly, because our state even offers pardons for those prisoners who behave well.”
This dialogue greatly troubled Ibrahimi. What had prompted the State Security Operative to ask?! What was he aiming for?! What was his purpose? This did not seem like a simple conversation between two people who, until then, had not exchanged a single word?! He had come with a specific mission to this enterprise, and Ibrahimi knew the purpose of this mission. This raised a great dilemma for him. He considered discussing it with his parents, but quickly gave up the idea. He did not want to worry them.
After a few days, the operative met him again. – “I want to talk about an issue that I don’t want you to tell anyone about. You are a good boy. Your family also has a good standing, with the exception of the mistake your brother made. But even he was at a young age.”
The Operative paused and stood in silence, observing Ibrahimi’s face. He noticed that a corner of his lips began to tremble. He continued:
– “Your brother must get out of prison. Staying there will ruin his character. There are all kinds of remnants of the overthrown system there, who try to sway individuals like your brother and use them for propaganda against the people’s government. A few days ago I told you that our state also offers pardons, but to benefit from them, you have to contribute…”
– “And how can one contribute?” – Ibrahimi spoke in a half-whisper that barely came out.
– “By cooperating with us. This can be achieved through the contacts we will have together.”
Ibrahimi did not answer. The Operative’s words made him understand that he was trying to make him an associate of the State Security (Sigurimi), something he had never even thought of. How could he accept a proposal that was contrary to the principles his parents had taught him?! This was unacceptable to him. But how could he express this to the Operative?
The Operative looked at him, fixing his eyes deeply. Ibrahimi could not bear his gaze and turned his head away. The Operative continued:
– “I know you are in a dilemma whether to accept or not. I won’t force you. Think about it carefully for a few days and give me an answer.”
Days passed one after another, and Ibrahimi did not reply. His silence was the answer. But the Operative began to visit their brigade more often, and when he passed by him, he whispered softly:
– “Well, have you decided?”
Ibrahimi did not answer, but his conscience was in anguish. There was no one he could talk to. The only person he could confide in was Arbëri. So he did. He told him about the proposal the Operative had made. He was waiting for his opinion. Arbëri, after thinking carefully, said:
– “Listen, you are my friend. If you accept, it means losing your morals. Do not accept. Pull yourself together. Do not appear timid in front of him. When he asks you again, tell him that you do not feel capable of that job. In the end, there is nothing he can do to you; you are a worker.”
He did as told. When the Operative heard this, he understood that someone had advised him, and with his intuition, he concluded that it must have been Arbëri.
– “However,” – the Operative continued, – “we are not in a hurry. Think about it, and when you make up your mind, let me know.”
They parted ways. Days passed, and the Operative no longer appeared at the brigade. Ibrahimi thought he had escaped. Meanwhile, the Operative notified Resuli. He called the Operative of the camp where Ibrahimi’s brother was held and, handing him a small bottle with a liquid inside, said:
– “Pour this into his food, and when the consequences appear, admit him urgently to the city hospital and call the prisoner’s brother on the phone. For all this, only silence must reign.”
He gave Ibrahimi’s phone number. A phone call slip arrived from the city where the prison camp was located, where his brother was. The call slip had the name of an unknown sender. Ibrahimi answered the phone. From the other end of the receiver, he heard the voice:
– “I am the Camp Operative. I inform you that your brother has been urgently admitted to the city hospital due to an illness that doctors have not yet determined. I am sorry to tell you, but his condition is not good. You would do well to come and see him.”
Ibrahimi froze. What had happened to his brother? The next day, he left on the first train. He told his parents that he was going on an excursion with his brigade mates to a northern city. After changing several trains and trucks, he arrived in the northern city in the afternoon. He went straight to the hospital. The Camp Operative met him.
– “I am the one who called you,” – he said. – “Come with me.”
They walked through several corridors until they reached the door of the room. Two guards stood in front of it. It opened. His brother was lying on the only bed in the room. His eyes were closed. Ibrahimi rushed to him, calling out:
– “Brother, it’s me, Ibrahimi!”
He opened his eyes and looked at him. Tears began to stream down. He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t. Ibrahimi could not hold back. He turned away and also began to cry.
– “Pull yourself together,” – the operative told him, – “especially now that you are in front of him.”
He composed himself. The doctor entered the room and examined the patient. Ibrahimi asked him:
– “Doctor, how is he?”
– “The same, but don’t worry. We will do everything for your brother to return to his former condition.”
Ibrahimi stayed by his brother’s bedside for two days. Strangely, on the third day, he regained consciousness. When he saw Ibrahimi nearby, he whispered:
– “Brother!”
– “I am here.”
– “Help me… help me…”!
Ibrahimi promised him. He left. The Operative accompanied him to the traveler’s agency. Before they parted, he said:
– “Your brother is better, but the illness might recur. Don’t forget this. It is in your hands to help him.”
Ibrahimi arrived in his city. He did not tell his parents anything about his brother. That night, he did not sleep a wink. The next day, he went to the Department of Internal Affairs, where he asked to meet the Operative. He was taken to his office.
– “I am ready for your proposal,” – he said.
– “Good job!” – was the reply.
The Operative placed a typed letter in front of him:
– “Write your first and last name and sign it!”
Ibrahimi took it and read it:
“Declaration. I, Ibrahim Bregu, declare that I am ready to cooperate with the State Security organs for the preservation of order in our state, the people’s democracy. I make this declaration without being compelled by anyone and with my full will, and I sign it. Name, surname, signature, date.”
Ibrahimi wrote his first and last name and signed it.
***
Resuli almost flew with joy. The news that Ibrahimi had agreed to become a Security collaborator had awakened the feeling of cynicism that characterized him. His pleasure was when he tortured or watched people suffer. A feeling of a special type of person, of those for whom the sight of blood gave pleasure and brought them to a phase of maniacal ecstasy.
In this emotional state, he saw Sokoli lying unconscious in the Security cells as a result of the tortures he had inflicted, and he felt a cynical pleasure. Suddenly, Sokoli’s figure was replaced by that of Arbëri, and disfigured, he whispered:
– “You want to marry my niece? You will see what I will do to you. You will suffer worse than your father.”
He decided to leave immediately for his city to give the final instructions. He called Ibrahimi to a meeting.
– “I congratulate you on the decision you made. This is a big step on the road to the future.”
– “What about my brother?”
– “We keep our promises, but you, too, must give us concrete facts. Your duty now is to monitor the actions of your friend, Arbëri. You will provoke him from time to time, and you will give the information to the Enterprise Operative. The sooner you complete this task, the sooner your brother will return home.”
He also instructed the Operative on how to act and left. Initially, Ibrahimi was shocked. It had never occurred to him that his first prey had to be his closest friend. He considered Resuli’s proposal several times in his mind. He was unable to decide. Two alternatives lay before him: his brother or his friend? Which would triumph? The scales tipped toward his brother. The very next day, he began his new duty. When work hours ended, he told Arbëri:
– “Come on, let’s go and have a drink; I feel like it. I’m treating today.”
They entered a bar.
– “Two shots of raki and two steaks,” – Ibrahimi ordered.
The waiter brought the order, and they indulged happily. After the first shots, he ordered two more. When they were almost reaching the point of intoxication, Ibrahimi opened the subject.
– “Arbër, how long are we going to stay silent like this? Can this situation be endured?”
Arbëri did not reply. His friend’s words tempted him, but his mother’s figure appeared before his eyes, whispering:
– “You must always be careful not to stumble and fall.”
His fiancée Blerina’s figure appeared, and he felt it would be immoral to make a decision without her approval. He drank what was left in his glass and stood up.
– “Let’s go.”
– “But you haven’t answered me?!”
– “It’s late. Come on.”
Arbëri returned home and went straight to the bedroom…!
– “Son, aren’t you going to have dinner?” – his worried mother said.
– “No, mother. I was with Ibrahimi and we had a drink.”
– “Very well, my mother’s only one.”
He lay down in bed and began to think. He had heard about many other groups that had engaged in anti-government activity and had all ended up in prison. He, too, had a desire to do something in this direction, but his situation was different from that of others. He had a mother whose husband had died in prison, and if her only son were also imprisoned, it was unknown how she would end up. Even if she managed to survive, she would be forced to spend the last days of her life in one of the internment camps that were scattered almost all over the country. His imagination shifted to his fiancée, and it seemed as if she was telling him:
– “Why did you get engaged to me when you had this mindset?”
She was right. He had just gotten engaged. Starting an adventure now that led nowhere was unforgivable. What could the two of them do to a state that had a large number of means at its disposal and where many other attempts had failed? Arbëri also recalled many other individuals who had not been able to resist but had been broken by the camouflaged methods used against them and had gone as far as denouncing their friends.
– “Does Ibrahimi belong to this group as well?” – he asked himself.
For the first time after a long time of friendship, doubt arose in him about his friend. He had a brother in prison. To rise against the state meant he had to consider prison. Then, they would both be together. Fine, his brother was still a child, but how could he, who was of a mature age, take such an action, and so suddenly? Furthermore, Ibrahimi had never spoken to him in this language before. This thought increased his suspicion even more.
– “But why did he break, I wonder?” – he asked himself again.
Suddenly, his mind went to his imprisoned brother.
– “Did they promise to release him? Is this the condition?”
However, these were just assumptions. He did not have the right to think this way about his friend. But Ibrahimi did not back down. Every day, he continued to make various proposals. To write and distribute leaflets. To write threatening letters to high officials. To escape abroad. Arbëri, in most cases, did not even answer him, but Ibrahimi’s insistence was quite great. This ping-pong continued for more than two months. Finally, he cut him off:
– “Ibrahimi, please, you are my closest friend, but if you want us to maintain this friendship, then don’t mention this issue to me again. Consider it closed.” And he left. Ibrahimi remained standing for a while, without moving. Then he headed to the Department of Internal Affairs, where he asked for the Operative. The Operative led him into his office.
– “What’s up?”
– “Nothing.”
– “How nothing?”
– “Just that, nothing. He won’t even talk to me about these issues anymore. He shut the door on me.”
The Operative thought for a moment. Finally, he said:
– “Are you ready to sign a declaration, denouncing Arbëri, alleging that he proposed what you told him? Such a declaration is enough for us. Don’t be afraid; no one will find out. You will be a secret witness.”
Ibrahimi’s brother appeared before his eyes.
– “What will happen about my brother?”
– “Write and sign the declaration, and you will see what happens.”
The Operative took paper and a fountain pen and gave them to him.
– “Write!” – he said.
He began to dictate the text. Ibrahimi wrote. Thus, four pages were filled. At the end, he signed it and put the date.
– “Don’t worry about your brother. You will see him soon.”
In truth, with a special decree after one month, his brother was home. Resuli had managed to keep his promise. Memorie.al
To be continued in the next issue.
