By Maksim Rakipaj
The sixth 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
“Gas” took the road behind the Branch, a large metal gate opened and stopped near a door in the building on the right side of that infamous building. The guard officer opened that door and I don’t know how I got to the third floor, that how I learned later, it was the investigation floor. We entered an investigation office: a table and a chair by the window, another chair by the door, stuck to the wall. The door was covered with a cloth like a blanket, for soundproofing effect. There were four of them: Chief of Investigation Faik Gore, Security Officer Spiro Spiro, who arrested me, and two other investigators, one introduced himself as Mark and the other Bardhyl Çuçi. They did a thorough body search, took my shoes, belt of trousers, overcoat and everything I had in my pockets.
The investigation began that night, and it would last for almost six months, until October, when we were put on trial. Details from the hand-to-hand investigation will be given in these memories. It was not easy for all of us, we were terrified for our fate and that of our families, until then we had not tried on our backs what the “dictatorship of the proletariat” meant, then the trial. One of the investigators, B. Çuçi, told me: “In the trial, you will wear the suit, which we will sew for the investigator, Max.” I was put on trial, an expensive “suit”: 15 years in prison, 5 years of removal of electoral rights and the removal of the order “For civil bravery”, which was given to me when the ship “Tomorri” sank. Inside Durrës, there were “stylists” of a very high class…!
The investigation continues even after the conviction
Arrest and investigation are the hardest part in the life of a political prisoner, especially when they make you a member of a group that you have not even imagined! You don’t know, but this is what the heads of the investigation and the Ministry of the Interior decide. Thus, the uproar is greater, and the terrifying effect on the people is greater. Rumors also work, State Security has been using them for a long time. They spread some legends about us. In the north of the country, it was said that a group of NATO agents, members of the “Durresi” ship, was arrested and this group was ready to carry out a series of terrorist actions. At the University of Tirana, as a convicted student later told us, with the last name Papa, from Tirana, the legend had spread that we were a dangerous group of agents acting on behalf of the Warsaw Pact, that is, for the Russians.
The group was led by a blonde, very beautiful girl. Since Hysni Kapo’s nephew was also in the group of “agents”, the latter would create the opportunity for us to join the leadership “Block” and the rest of us would kill “the great, glorious leader, legendary”, Enver Hoxha and other members of the Political Bureau. Immediately after their annihilation, we would hijack the ship from the port of Durrës and escape abroad!!! Our investigation continued for about 6 months. A group of investigators worked, 2 , 3 and 4 investigators, led by the sadistic criminal, n/head of the Internal Department in Durrës, the infamous Kapllan Shehu….!
They didn’t find it difficult to get the statements they wanted from us: with tricks and traps, with spies putting us in dungeons, inciting revenge against each other. We had no idea, into the hands of hangman’s we had fallen. But with me, they made a mistake in choosing the dungeon spy. They brought me to the dungeon, shortly after the arrest, a young man, a little over 20 years old, had been sentenced to 5 years for rape and was serving his sentence in a youth camp, in Torovica, near Lezha. His name was H. M. and he was from a village near Shijak. It was a little out of mind. I doubted him, when he interrupted my conversation and asked me:
– “What is the last name of this Ladi, where does he work, and where is his back…”?! I made up another spicy story… when H., again: – “This, Ben, was on the ship with you”?! – “No, it’s on another ship…”! – “On which ship?! Is he from Durrës, or from Tirana”?! I gave him an answer, enough to pass the queue, but I didn’t feel, I didn’t want him to understand, that I had smelled that he was a spy. I decided to keep quiet and use it for myself, sending the investigators the messages I wanted and I didn’t want to tell them to their face. But the chiefs of the investigation caught my game and got me out of the dungeon quickly. I was left alone, for a long time, dealing with a spider that who knows how ended up in my dungeon.
In a bluff played on me by the interrogator, I admitted that I had given contraband to sell to a sailor from another ship. The investigator showed me the minutes, where he affirmed such a thing. Occurred before the fact committed, I agreed. I thought they might have arrested him too. With that sailor, who at that time seems to have worked as a waiter on the “Dajti” ship, I had no company, just a greeting, I didn’t even know his name well. My investigator, dissatisfied, often repeated to me: – “With the attitude you are maintaining in the investigator, you have secured the place as the leader of the group! How you want, how you behave, that’s how we will behave with you.”
And one day he burst out: – “You are the real enemy in this group! You! Kulak grandfather, two uncles convicted, your father expelled from the party! You grew up with this spirit! You have drawn others to the path of enmity! They are lost, you are the real enemy”! – “It is not true Mr. Investigator…”! – “So… let me count them… one is the nephew of friend Hysni, the mother of one, worked as a cook for friend Ramiz, the other…”! – “Can I speak too”? – “Hey, without listening to your wisdom…”! I took a deep breath, tried to organize my thoughts and began:
– “First, it is true, I am the grandson of a kulak, the grandson of my uncles, but before that, I am the son of my father, I am the son of Xhafer Rakipaj, who has shed blood for this country, as a partisan, two he was injured once; secondly, that other nephew belongs to friend Hysni, but he is the son of his own father and mother, who were with ‘Balli’ until November ’44! Communism won in Albania, they went with the party of friend Hysni! If it had happened otherwise, Hysniu would have gone to the other side. So?! Third, the meatballs that my friend Ramiz ate, from that other man’s mother, are worth more than the bullets that my father ate…?! If so, I agree with the choice you have made, I deserve to be called the head of the group, although I am the youngest of all and with the lowest position… from the third or fourth officer, the most graduated captain! Thank you”!
– “You’re welcome”! – somehow Spiro Spiro, (who would become a member of the Supreme Court in 1992) – “Shut up now, because our heads are swelling…”! They kept their word, I was sentenced as the leader of a hostile, non-violent group(!?): 15 years in prison, 5 years of deprivation of electoral rights and with the removal of the decoration “for civil valor”, for the courage shown in saving the ship “Tomb” in February 1973. I needed this step back in time to give you a better understanding of what happened to me in September ’79. I had just returned from the third shift, I ate bread quickly and when I made my way to my sleeping place, a policeman named Lazar appeared in front of me: – “Max, come upstairs with me”!
I thought of a re-arrest. Big deal! I expected. After the fight with the head of the Durrës branch in the Balls camp, when I refused to cooperate with the Security, I was transferred to Spaç. Immediately here, they made me a Martelist miner. Recondemnation was natural. At the last meeting, my mother told me that Sefedin Bendo, a former neighbor of ours and a friend of Kapllan Shehu, said: “Max has been sentenced to 25 years”! “Don’t worry, my mother, I told her, – they haven’t given me a 25-year sentence yet, but even if they do, I’m not guilty…! You, dad, Dash, sisters, it would come to you well, if I get out of prison today and people point to you – there’s the mother, there’s the brother of that spy, the masquerade…”! That day, my mother told me: “You know your business, as long as I have breath, I will not leave you. But you, you will not lower our head, you will not encourage us, I I know how to say…”!
In Spaç, working as a miner was like meeting death every day. And death seems familiar, closer, it no longer scares you. And what was death, before re-sentencing? Maybe it works out for the better, they transfer me to Burrel. There books and foreign languages are allowed, save me from the hammer… 25 years… I have done so far 2 and a half years. O me, O this regime, will end sooner than all these years pass.
I was in this state of mind when policeman Lazri stopped at a door in a small building, near the big gate. Knock. Someone spoke from within: “Come, come,” and I found myself inside that half-dark room. Behind a table sat the camp Security operative, badman Kosta Prifti, and a civilian from the Durrës Internal Branch, surnamed Bajraktari. Standing, to my left, was a guy in his thirties, curly, brunette. He was introduced to me as the deputy prosecutor of Rrëshen. I was waiting for them to start. After they examined me carefully, he with the last name Bajraktari, said:
– “Hey, Maksim, how do you feel here in Spaç?” Your health is not bad… do you have news from the family, how are they”? This cordial tone and his pretense made me want to vomit…! – “I can’t believe that you have bothered to this point, to be interested in my health?! I’m listening to you, tell me what you have to do with me?! – I spoke in a calm tone.
– “You are wrong to speak this language. You are a party boy, you are ours, consider your stay here temporary. Maybe you didn’t expect the transfer here to Spaç…but it’s not anyone’s fault. You answered very badly, three months ago, friend Kapllan, we didn’t expect it from you… no”! I didn’t wince. I waited for him to come out, I realized that there was no question of re-conviction. Let’s see where the snake will stick its head out…!
– “I see that you can’t wait to leave this room. Okay then. Listen, during the investigation, we have a deposition of yours, about a sailor, a certain E., that you gave him, something to sell. We then forgave him, he behaved very well, he told us what we asked, he seemed like a good guy. But no. Where he works now, he committed a theft of socialist property and we arrested him for that. In addition, he has also done agitation and propaganda against popular power. And you, as his friend that you are, will tell us all the hostile conversations you had with him” – “It’s not true, I don’t know this man”. – “You know what you have with him Here’s your signature here for those spoils you gave him…”!
– “I don’t even know Max, who signed that thing…”! – “Aaaa, not good like that! You completely lost faith in the party! Well, do you remember that you will spend all these years in prison, if you have a good time with us? And when you get out, do you think you’ll find a job easily, if you’re against us…?! Don’t forget then, there is also re-sentence…”! – “I don’t care about anything. Nor release. I’m fine here. Working as a martelist, I like it. If you have nothing more to do with me, I ask for permission to leave, because I was on the night shift”. – I answered quite calmly.
– “I think it is useless to continue this conversation with this guy. I’ll fix it for this one, I know how they like it, let the shit go”. – spoke the snake, named Kosta Prifti, and motioned for me to come out. I said through my teeth, one like “good day” and made to go out, when the curly guy, who was watching me all the time without speaking, said: – “Wait a minute, because I also have a few words with this…! Do you know me?! My name is Vangjel L., I am a prosecutor in Rrëshen. I’m stupid like you and I remember you well”.
– “No sir, I don’t know you”! – “I know you well. but…! What a boy you were, Max Max, one of the most handsome guys in Durrës. Durrësi shook, when you went out to shoot, with those checkered jackets, with that black overcoat… like the Count of Montecristo. See how you’re dressed now, you’re ready to be hurt, with these striped clothes, with this flimsy cap…”! – “Even Alen Delon, he wouldn’t look more beautiful than me, if he spent two months here in Spaç. I don’t call it that; “I’m tired”, it would be tired if I accepted your proposals…!
– “I was told that you have a poisonous tongue…! You don’t know what I’m doing to you, you’re a dog, you’re a dog, I’m taking a dump, to pour out the cups, to pour out…” – and he was holding my muzzle, next to mine. – “It is not polite of you, sir, to express yourself like that! We are not on equal terms and as a result, I cannot return the resto”!
After the changes that took place in the 90s, this son of the prosecutor, they told me, had started working as a lawyer for the Independent Trade Unions, which were close to the Democratic Party. Someone told me then, that the curls had given way to the brick. Another one, with the same last name, (some say brother, some say uncle’s son), had a key position in democratic governments…!
CHAPTER II
Political convict, Concentration Camp no. 309, Ballsh
Xhemal Lile, a surveyor
After the trial, we went to prison (Prison 313 of Tirana) and then a group of 20 people killed us and sent us to Ballsh camp. Others have written about this camp, other camps and prisons. I will bring some memories, for the oldest people I knew there…!
We got off the bus and entered the camp. A large square, below was the kitchen and something like an office, and in the wing above the square the sleeping silos. We were confused, a group of prisoners was approaching us, when suddenly an officer (he was the commissar of the camp) came out and threatened an old man who was approaching us limping: – “You, Xhemal Lile… I’m talking to you, be careful with that tongue of yours, or we’ll cut off his head”!
– “You surprised me with what you said! – flame for flame Xhemali… you have my head here, when you feel like it, tear it off. What about this problem with you… to hang your foot on your neck as an enemy and say; don’t shake your head, because you can hear the sound…! You know very well that I don’t love you…”! The commissar left with his tail between his saddles, while Xhemali limped, approached me: – “Where did we get you children?” – “From Durrës”, – I tell him. – “More, I’m telling you about the origin…”?! – “I am from the origin of Permetra…”. – “Don’t be from Mokrica…. I had a good friend from Mokrica, because I’m also from Katundishta, Këlcyra, that friend of mine was called Njazi, yes, Njazi Rakipaj and you looked a lot like him at first” ?!
– “It’s my uncle Njaziu, sorry…”! – “I’m sorry, I know that Njaziu the deserter has died, he was a pretty man and very wise, he knew three or four languages, how did you get Njaziu’s nephew?! Come and let me hug you… how much did they punish you? Many have given you, but don’t worry, you are young, how old are you? 26… the prison eats you…! I have an order for you and you young people, guys, and you must come out as men and not women, do you understand me? Don’t be afraid, communism has its days numbered, you are young and you want to enjoy it, that’s what I say. I’m coming to make you a coffee and we’ll talk to each other, because this dumper came…”, – and pointed to someone who had approached without feeling it. – “Come, I have a story with your uncle…”!
Drinking coffee with Xhemal…!
– “What do you say, Njaziu was sentenced to 17 years, we were in Burrel together and as inmates we were talking, from ’68-’69, I was finishing the second prison and I had a few days left… I tell him to black Njazi: – ‘Listen, brother, I gave you the name of that dog that spied on you and became the reason for doing all this prison…’! – “Avni Male, they call it shit,” he told me. – ‘Man to man – I say, – I will find his side and take his head off the dump…’!
I left Burrel prison, as you say, and straight to Permet… there and to the Internal Branch, to present the release form, finish work and go to drink a coffee nearby. I hadn’t taken my seat well, when a middle-aged man approaches me: – ‘May I sit,’ says this…’! – ‘Sit down, sit down’, I say, – there are plenty of empty seats here…’!
– ‘There are places, there are, I wanted to exchange a few words with you…! Do you come from prison, sir? – ‘Yes, from Burrell prison’. – ‘Like that?! Did you know Njazi Rakipajn there? I have mine…’! – I have known him and I am saying that you should brag about Njazia and you have yours, you should tell me how to find that dump Avni Male, because I want to remove the dump of shit that a man like Njaziu and not only him’. – ‘Don’t worry, he tells me, – I’ll find it…’!
….It wasn’t even a month since I was released, when they sweep me back… straight to the dungeon. In the witness trial…believe it or not? Avni Malja, it was that shit we drank coffee together when I was released…! But in the trial, when I had the last word, I turned from the hall: – ‘People of Përmet! See each other, get to know each other and beware of this hound, who is dressing the mothers in black…’! The prosecutor waited for me: – ‘Shut up, defendant! Look at yourself, how you were… even your wife left you…..’!
– Close you, not me! As for the wife, don’t worry, I’ll get yours when I’m free…. hahahah….! When you spoke, I listened and was fed up for 10 years, without doing anything… but I want at least others to be saved, not to get burned like me, because I didn’t know him…! Meet and talk, beware of this dog…! Avni Male, they tell you the name… so that you forget, Ishallah, here is father Tomorr…! Memorie.al
The next issue follows
