By Bedri Blloshmi
Confession of the ex-convict: – “The prosecutor of Pogradec told us that; Xhevit and Irfan Muça were shot in “Livadhin e Çelos” in Alarup, but there is also another shooting place, which is called; “The river of Terhan”!
Memorie.al / In the prison hospital in Tirana, a motionless “heap” that moans is “laid”. They broke him on the cement from the stretcher, untying him from the mesh straps that kept him tightly bound. There were some collared civilians dressed in checkered suits, red shirts closed to the throat, and a collar was tightened around their necks, which went all the way down over their swollen stomachs. A man, his face sullen and angry, looked around and, after asking us where we were from and why we were being accused, turned to the doctor
– “Agree on what we talked about”?!
– “As Comrade Nevzat orders. Don’t worry, even for us, it’s not the first time we receive orders for these enemies of the Party and the people”.
– “We’re leaving, let us know anyway.”
Everyone left the room. The policeman closed the door angrily, slamming the door latch hard. He took the mug back to the counter and hung up: – “Don’t make a noise and with that, no one has any business.”
We got up from the bed and approached the person, who was lying face down on the cement. A trickle of blood had flowed from his mouth. It smelled of medicine and mold. This man was skin and bone. We lifted him up and directed him against the wall. His head hung over his chest, in which the veins were clearly visible, under the skin whitened by long confinement.
We asked him which one it is and where it is from. No answer, just moaning and keeping his eyes closed. His body smelled very bad. I put him on the bed, but when we grabbed him by the legs, he screamed at the top of his lungs.
– “Don’t touch me, because my whole-body hurts.”
The dirty pants looked like they were wet. The living corpse lazily opened its eyes and beckoned, raising its eyebrows. He made us understand that we should see his feet. We immediately lifted his pants up to his knees, revealing two bone spurs that had some hair here and there. The skeleton laboriously moved from side to side, head shaved zero, while biting its lower lip with its teeth.
Above the knees, the crusts of some wounds are visible. We raised his pants a little higher. What did you see?! His thighs were black and his wounds were draining. “They have made an abscess”, said one of the friends. – “No no, it’s an electric shock”, – replied another. The friend next to me fainted.
The skeleton continued to moan and after a moment, the door opened and the angry policeman entered, who, after kicking us a few times, screamed: “This is what we will do to all of you. Try once more to help this criminal”! After a while, he returned again accompanied by the nurse, who was holding a syringe.
She approached the corpse, frowned at the mugs and, with her head aside, called: “Turn upside down”! He didn’t move at all. Then the nurse stuck the needle in his pants, squeezed his penis as hard as she could and after a few moments pulled it out, angrily leaving the room. All of us were exhausted. There was a grave silence in the room.
On the third day, he was mentioned a little. I approached his head and started asking him again:
– “Where are you from”?!
– “I’m from Pogra…” – he answered, with a voice that died before he finished speaking.
As I rubbed his wrinkled forehead, I brought his ear to his lips. He opened his eyes from time to time and looked at us, without saying a word. I kept asking him, to find out who he was, where he came from and why he had been arrested. In an instant, he opened his eyes and beckoned me to come closer.
– “My name is Xhevit Muça and I live in Lushnje. I talked to a friend so we could escape, because I understood why the operative came to where I worked. At that time, after a few days, I went to Bërzeshte to my sister, who was married to Bardho Leka. That same night, I also went to a friend of my father, Hasan Blloshmi.
I stayed very little and returned to Lushnje. The “friend” with whom I had talked to escape was from Cologne and he assured me that he knew the border very well and that we would cross without any problems. Until Korça, we traveled without any worries. So depressed, we left together with the guide, towards Morava Mountain.
The State Security was waiting for us there. They tied us up, burst into “Gaz” and brought us straight to Tirana. I don’t remember how much time I spent between torture and bars. “Well, don’t worry, you will be sentenced to 25 years in prison,” said my roommate in the prison hospital in Tirana.
I told him that I knew they were going to kill us, that they had made a group of us. I told him that, if he was released and as soon as he got the chance, he should tell someone how they had beaten me and how the matter stood”! That’s all he could tell me with his mouth, Xhevit Muça,
No more than two months ago, the chance brought me to meet this friend from the Tirana prison hospital room. While we were drinking coffee, he continued the story, where Xeviti left off.
“After two or three days, they took us out of the room, into the corridor of the prison hospital, because we were going to disinfect the premises, because the lice had broken out. At this time, some civilians came and one of them spoke to the second shift nurse.
– “Listen,” he called, “get ready, because we will take the person from Lushnja tonight.”
The nurse replied right away: “I don’t make the exits, the doctor does.”
Nevzat shouted so loudly, that the spittle beads fell on the nurse’s face: – “My, you hear, don’t you?! Do you know me, who am I?! I want… you and the doctor”!
He, together with the people accompanying him, entered the room, took Xevit on a stretcher, and while they were leaving, he screamed at him: “Even in this condition you are in, we will shoot you! Why does it stimulate”?
After the disinfection was finished, we were returned to the room. At this time, there was the screeching sound of the car’s engine and the creaking of the door closing as the car pulled out. That night we woke up, without exchanging a single word, with each other”.
“Bedri, you constantly write in the newspaper, if you could, please tell everyone what I told you”! This is how Agron Kalaja, the Tirana prison hospital roommate of Xhevit Muça, who was from the village of Çezmë e Madhe, in Pogradec, ended his story.
I want to clarify that the “group” prepared by Nevzat Haznedari had this composition:
- Xhevit Muça – sentenced to death, shooting;
- Irfan Muça – sentenced to death, shooting;
- Hysni Palla – sentenced to 25 years in prison;
- Enver Leka – sentenced to 20 years in prison;
- Medi Bislimi – sentenced to 15 years in prison, who was the person who traveled with Xhevit to the Morava Mountain.
– According to the information provided by the prosecutor of Pogradec, whose name I do not remember, Xhevit and Irfan Muça were shot in “Livadhin e Celos” in Alarup.
We went together with the prosecutor of this province, we searched, but we did not find anything. Some villagers told me that in Pogradec, there is another shooting site, which is called; River of Terhan.
Finally, the remains of Xhevi and Irfan Mucha have not been found yet. Their relatives, friends and well-wishers do not have a place where they can put a bunch of flowers.
And democracy, how about…?! Will you keep your promise?! You’re going to deal with the missing, aren’t you?! Even today, after 80 years, the Nazis are pursued and punished for their crimes. /Memorie.al
