By Maksim Rakipaj
Part twenty five
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 Vlorë, 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
“Party with hu and grunts”!
Of course, with the help of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the command of the notorious Qaf-Bari camp, which came from the management of an ordinary camp, took over the management of a camp with political prisoners. As it happened in Spaç, also in Qaf-Bar, in comfortable jobs and with material benefits, they began to settle, no longer convicts who knew how to do that kind of work, or who enjoyed any personal sympathy with the camp policemen. Just like in Spaç, in these posts we started to see people who had sold their conscience.
I remember with sympathy, Latif Sadik, a Cham from Lushnja, who had been one of the best cooks in Albania; he was also the chef of the Central House of Officers, but the arrest of Beqir Balluk also affected (!) Latif. They sentenced him to 10 years for agitation and propaganda. During the investigation, they tried to use it to accuse some generals that the “glorious leadership” took over.
– “I was once asked by the investigator to compile the complete menu and the cost of a ‘big’ wedding at the Officers’ House, for about 300 wedding guests. I did it in 10 minutes. I put everything in: fish, shrimp, lamb, beef, greens, oil, brandy, wine, beer, sweets and, who knows… about 2-3 million ALL (old) seems to me and I handed it over to him. My investigator was pleased, especially when he saw the numbers.”
– “Now, shall we name this wedding?” Who ordered these expenses to be made? Celibacy? Petrit Dumja? You should know whose wedding this was, you were the great chef…?!
– “Okay, Mr. Investigator, I’ll tell you the name you’re looking for. This was the wedding of the daughter of the deputy minister of the interior, Raqi Iftica (who was still the deputy minister)! The investigator turned red and threw the typewriter at my head. Three people beat me together, after that, with kicks, punches, until I fainted”!
Here in the camp, dozens of times they offered him to work in the kitchen, but Latifi proudly refused:
– “No! I’m never working in the kitchen again”! – and works a shift with me, mine worker. Visar asked him once:
– “What is your greatest desire, the greatest joy you dream of? Huh, Latif”?!
– “I want to be in front of the stove, cooking for some big dinner and at the end, when the guests have finished the dinner, the greatest joy is when they call you and introduce you in front of everyone: This is so-and-so, the cook who served us please tonight”!
And this man, who dreams of cooking, prefers the mine to the kitchen. Because, Latif Sadiku did not agree to be sold…!
…In the room where I sleep, there are 8 of us. A few days ago, the manager of our floor, Nikoll Th., originally from the north, came to sleep here. You can tell from the muzzle, what a commodity it is. A couple like himself comes to him and Nikolla starts to tell about his bravery. He boasts that he was personally recruited by Kadri Hazbiu. He started by replacing his aging father.
– “What is father doing, Nikol”? – asks his friend.
– “He crossed the border once or twice a month. He took the salaries to the agents in Kosovo, Montenegro, as far as Zagreb and Belgrade; he found them and handed over the gold to them.”
– “They were paid in gold, huh”?!
– “Besa, with gold and dollars, tiiiik in hand, of course”!
– “Weren’t you afraid that you were going to meet the soldiers at the border, Nikol”?!
– “No, what fear, you man of the earth! The border post informed them: from this hour, from this hour, the number of sectors is this, they must have me free’ and that’s it. Did the soldier suddenly appear before me, huh?! Great work! The bullet to the forehead to go to the sams, who didn’t tea the ass, for a soldier’s shit, oh you! Besides, I was informed that the soldier in the so-and-so sector was killed by me, and Kadriu is fixing it, that’s the job. A decoration for the family, a letter with beautiful words; “he killed in an effort with the enemy on the border” and the myth finger, walk”!
– “Yes, did you win, didn’t you”?!
– “Not at first, eh.” But slowly, I took his hand. I saw how many carnations we had to deal with; I found out that they also stole as much as they could, the first Kadriu with Feçor Sheh e, tan kalam-kusuri. Feçor Shehi has been telling me for a few years now. First, in Feçor’s office, I; Order, friend Feçor”!
“By the ear,” he told me, “a tyrant has been sentenced to death.” Yes, he has seen a lot of shit and he doesn’t care. We will take you to visit your friends and learn about the village, where the elders are. When you find out where, tell the policeman that you want to meet him and investigate…! Good luck, Nikola’, Feçori told me. One day, two, three, the devil didn’t speak, not even a murmur, a murmur. Me neither. A week passed, he and I never talked. I started to paint as if I was crying to myself, as if I didn’t want to see me, because here I am. – ‘Speak up, he told me, what’s wrong’?!
In short, you tyrant…! “Come on, chief, you have the threshold of the door,” he said, “you have the gate of the yard, how far is it, 1 meter deep, it is a metal case, with which I give you money,” he said. – ‘Yes, I said, don’t shave it, because you have to take it’. I tell Feçori, how we left it, and then its midnight, only me and Feçori with the “Jeep” of Internal Branch, one cow and one digger, foam is coming. I was digging, Feçori lied, when it ticked…! He encountered pickaxes in metal.
One will take the case, one will put it in the foam bag and you have Feçor’s office. It was full of gold coins, not less than 5 kilos and dollars in packages, like a bank…! So, someone opened the Feçori safe and took out the gold and the dollar. I miss like shit. This one saw me. “Ehh, he said, – I forgot”! He opened another shelf, took 50 thousand lek and gave it to me: – “Eat them with a good heart, Nikola”, – he told me. When he saw that I hung up the mug, he took another 25 thousand, handed it to me and said: – Take it, shit, and you’re opening your mouth, know that…! What about the metal case leave it here?! Take it; throw it from the river…”!
After a couple of days, when I came back from the 1st shift, the floor of our room was covered in blood. It was the black blood of Nikoll Th. He was beaten to death by Kujtim Prendi, an old friend of mine, back in Spaç. You heard that Nikola had a hand in the punishment of a close friend of his. He asked Nikola, really. “Yes”, – answered Nikola, with aplomb. And the memory had said:
– “So, see what the people of Spacia do to trash like you…! Show how we paint the party, garbage”.
Nikola spent three months in the hospital, due to hematomas and broken ribs. When he returned, he no longer told stories of bravery.
…I am sure that in the fists of Memory that day, there was also the soul of that tyrant, who was shot three years ago…!
Release from prison
I spent 7 years in prison and it seems to me, as if I was born here, as if I never lived free. There is no life, outside these barbed wires of the Neck-Bar; it is but a dream, everything beyond these wires! A dream is also what we remember from the previous life, what we tell each other, for that life is nothing but dreams. Visar remembers a poem by Nazim Hikmet, about prisoners who are released by an amnesty, how does he feel, who has served two years in prison, the one who has served 15, or 8 years?! When I’m free, maybe I’ll find this poem, I’ll try to translate it; no one has written it here, not even Visar, he remembers it so vaguely, more like a creation of his mind than a Hikmet’s poem!
Ever since Aladdin was released, my family is very optimistic about my release from prison. I don’t, I can’t believe I’ll ever get out of here. I can’t even think of myself outside of these barbed wires. I received a package of food from a friend of mine. When they opened the package to check it, I was alone with policeman Beqir B…! After the events of the revolt, I avoid and Beqiri avoids me, however, he is kind when we are alone. There are also two kg of Korçe beans in the package. Bekir’s eyes shine: – ” beans!? You can’t find it anywhere in the bazaar, the beans disappears altogether, you have my advice, and they die for the beans”.
I took the bean bag and put it in his coat pocket:
– “Take Beqir, they cook us beans for days here. Take it, take it home.”
He didn’t know how to thank me. Touched, he said to me: – “Thank you, Max, thank you.” You know that when you are released from here, on the first night, you will be a friend in my house, for God’s sake. We will spend that night together, with brandy and chats”.
– “I was ever released from here, Beqir…”?!
– “Yes, you will be released. They have begged the opinion of the command, about your behavior here, from the Supreme Court and the Prosecutor’s Office…! Aladdin kept his word. The command returned a positive response, for you. I told you that I have the commander’s sister as a wife. I told him that day: – Start answering about Max right now, I’ll see him with my own eyes and start him off great, or I’ll bring his sister home’! He wrote the answer, as I dictated to him. Oh fool’, – I told him, – ‘do you understand that they want me free. Where are you, they beg for my opinion…?! They free you or kill you, no one asks. Write there, leave the farts! He started the answer; it’s been a couple of weeks…”!
– “Thank you, Beqir… so be it…”!
– “Take care, you know better than I do, take care of yourself, take care of any quarrel. There are many who do not want the good. A small quarrel, a punishment, no matter how light it is, the release is cancelled…”!
The winter of ’83 and early ’84 is pretty harsh. Since after the Revolt, we were forbidden to wear hats and for our zero shaved heads, it is a real horror, in these Siberian temperatures. The police have no mercy for anyone, neither the elderly nor the sick; they come, grab the hat from his head and cry:
– “Try and wear a hat again, you’ll find out”!
However, after the Revolt, they gave up sending those who did not meet the norm back to work. Before the Revolt, there were prisoners who stayed 24 hours at work, until they met the norm. The condition is always honest. The convicted brigadiers have been replaced, they have put others everywhere. Instead of Dalip Zhaboli, they put their own man, Minella D. Even the other bosses, they are all operational people, even in the warehouses where we keep personal belongings, they are their people in cleaning the sleeping silos, and in cleaning the soup kitchen. As in Spaç.
But also the morale of the prisoners, as in Spaç, is high. It is easier now to know honest people. They are the ones who do not compromise with their command and conscience. Instead of the rebellious, aggressive resistance of the Revolt, it is now a silent, mass resistance. Everyone helps each other to meet the norm. The disdain for lickers is open, as in Spaç. The friendship between us is stronger. We are many; we are the majority, as in Spaç. We are stronger after two Revolts, more invincible. “They” know this well, they feel it.
But the free Pukyans, who work with us in the mine, are good people, suffering people. On my shift, there is also firefighter Ndue. He has worked all his life in the mines and has a terrible cough, he suffers from silicosis, and he has the third degree of silicosis. The escort policemen no longer hang out in the miners’ room, as they were forbidden to do before, so I can hang out and chat with Ndue when it’s time to drink beer.
When it’s time to make beer, I go into the gallery together with Nduen and I used to sing Bardhok Biba’s song to make fun of him; “When my friend had the plan / don’t let me go” / Italy takes the plane / full of swindlers…”! and Ndueja often accompanied me or continued the next stanza, laughing.
One night, when I was on the third shift, I was preparing a cocoa with milk for myself, I added some butter, I heard Ndue, who said with a laugh:
– “Aren’t you afraid that she will drown you, Max”?!
– “This is for you, Ndue. Hopefully is not going to drown you; I will do something else for myself…”!
He immediately took it and drank it, savoring it with pleasure, slowly, and when he finished it he said to me:
– “Great honor to you, Max. You have our soup kitchen, there was only tea and marmalade for dinner and the tea was completely without sugar. What is cooked for us, even the cattle don’t eat it, for Heaven and Earth, I’m telling you…! Ehhh, and you have no one to complain to. Except; there is no, there is no, – they say. We are surrounded, – they say, oh my god, worse…!
– “Open your eyes Ndue, don’t talk to others, because you are putting yourself in prison with me…”!
– “This job is over, oh you, it’s over. In the poor, they don’t even get 20 ALL for a day’s work, but there is nowhere to go, my friend…! Do you know?! Before you politically came here to Qaf-Bar, they were ordinary. The captain’s lever jumped from one to the other, for nothing. When they tell us what the enemies want to wear here, you mean, politically, I said: Bobo, now how do you deal with this, which are animals at all…?! Yes heh, I’m going to spend my days, I know.
Hey people, for God’s sake, there were plenty of good people, don’t kill me, not even for blood, as they say among us…! They have respect for you, Tan Puka and the Pukyans I know. We feel sorry for God, even for those guys who shoot. I know them both: Tom and Sokol. Good guys, I don’t ban nana! Even that Dalipi, he had been a man when he defended his friend; he said that; it was the police’s fault. I know how that work goes. Hey, woe to us…”!
September 11, 1984, the unforgettable Hiqmet Mullaj, brings mine back to the meeting, with his truck. I miss more. I’m on the 1st shift, as soon as I get home from work I go straight to the meeting. “Soon we will be together”, – they told me..!. How many times have I heard these words spoken with soul by the grandmother, mother and father, by the longing Aries, who tries not to leave any meeting, without coming, from their letters, which I keep all of them.
They bring me pieces of life with them in meetings and in their letters. From them I understand and feel that there is another life outside this prison, which was once my life. Visar, it’s the 2nd shift, he comes back after 23.00, but for the meeting coffee, I have a lot of friends who drink it with pleasure, because Dashi mixes it with cognac, coffee powder, he used to do this in Spaç.
In the evening, the TV shows a wool film with partisans, I’d rather go to the room, read something. Fortunately, there is no one and I can comfortably light a cigarette, when suddenly, the door opens and Ilmi Freskina rushes in:
– “Max! You have to do something with him, but keep your eyes open”!
– “Speak up, damn it, what happened”! – I say worriedly to Ilmi, who had one eye made of glass.
– “Nothing bad happened, no! But don’t tell anyone, because they deprive me of cleaning my mind and no one comes to my meeting, they deprive me of my livelihood”.
– “Oh talk, oh go outside and leave me comfortable”.
– “I was cleaning the kitchen, but the head of the Technical Office, Minella, was in the bakery. The cartel officer is coming, he approaches Minells. UN ears pipe; what the hell is he saying to this…?! Do you know what he said?! I told him that the decision has been made, I was released, Max Ragipi and the storekeeper from Tropoje, with the last name Halili, but for you, they decided to tell them tomorrow, and that you have friends all over the camp.
As for that Halil, no one cares about him, he is already informed, and they will tell you tomorrow…! I always have respect for you and my friend, Max. Anì, you are the boss of my troubles, but no one knows my troubles, anì…?! It makes me think that Minella has also informed me, that she wants to take advantage of something from you, that you also have a meeting today, but don’t shoot me, the resident is indicted in front of him…”!
I gave him some sweets and two packs of DS cigarettes:
– “Okay, take these and go, Ilmi. Thank you, even if it wasn’t true, just leaves now…”!
– “Would you buy me a couple more coffees…”?!
I threw a couple of servings of coffee on a piece of paper and was left alone. Was this really what happened, or was it a dream?! Or am I still dreaming?! Yeah, I was awake, but Ilmiu wasn’t here…?! Or was it?! How did he tell me?! I’m released tomorrow?! I was in a dream then…! What about this coffee powder on the blankets and sheets?! It’s the coffee I gave Ilmi! I mean, Ilmiu, I was here and what you told me, you didn’t tell me in a dream…?! In these discussions, one of Minella’s couriers comes to me:
– “Minella is waiting for you in the office, now quickly!” It’s not bad”, that’s what he told me.
I became clueless. Minella loves the watermelon that they brought me from home as a reward for the good news, which she gives me along with the order:
– “Don’t talk to anyone, to anyone”!
– “I am waiting for Visar to return from the second shift. I will definitely tell him, that’s why I gave him the watermelon. Don’t let anyone post tonight, lock me up on my floor and we’ll be fine together.”
Stay up late with Visar tonight. Tomorrow, I will be a free man again. But this thing, surprisingly, does not excite me at all. Even if tomorrow they tell me that; my release was canceled, it won’t impress me at all. The fever of the “free” life starts already. I am 33 years old, the age of Christ when he was crucified. Am I waiting for resurrection or crucifixion?! But wasn’t I crucified until today?!
At 6 in the morning, I am at Minella’s office. The bailiff is informed of his release: “Long live the Party and Comrade Enver”! – he drools and shakes the hand of the officer, who shakes his hand as if it were dirty. He also communicates to me: “On the basis of decision no. So, of the Presidium of the People’s Assembly… etc.” and he expects me to repeat what the storekeeper said. I calmly say: “Thank you for the good news you gave me. Can I go out now”?
– Gather your roots and for two minutes, be out!
I have prepared my dishes since last night. I don’t have any other problems, apart from these prison ones. I only have some notebooks with translations and my family’s pile of letters. I don’t need anything else. I left the food that my family brought the day before to my friends. As in a dream, I meet hundreds of hands, extended by many friends.
Farewell my friends, I’m going out, but my spirit is here with you, it has not been released from prison. Policeman Beqiri is sad, he doesn’t check anything of mine, he just says: – “I’m on 24-hour service. I turned out to be a bad man with you that I can’t take you on my back tonight. Good luck, Max!
That’s how I got out of Qaf-Bari prison, on September 12, 1984. Did I get out of prison? Memorie.al
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