“Once free, I was recounting to my nephews how I had been blinded through torture; upon hearing this, my mother let out a cry, ‘my son!’, and slumped to the ground…” / The tragic story of Urim Elezi from Korça, who endured 26 years of imprisonment.

By URIM ELEZI

Part eight

                                                                    Preface

Memorie.al / Urim Elezi, born on 18.10.1941 in Floq, Korça, are among those convicted twice by the communist regime with many years of suffering. He was imprisoned on 26.10.1963 and was released from there on 10.2.1989. He entered at 22 years old and left at 48, even blinded. At the age of 18, he completed the Instruction school in Gjirokastër, where he was promoted to non-commissioned officer. During his first sentence, he was a soldier in Unit No. 9357 Gjirokastër. The first time he was accused based on Article 64, in combination with Articles 10 and 14 of the Penal Code. He was on military service, together with his friend Hekuran Shyti, in Gjirokastër. According to the court, he had proposed to Hekuran to escape because a good life was lived in capitalist countries and especially in the USA. Hekuran is released earlier from the army and during this time finds the other persons with whom they would carry out the escape. Hekuran sends a telegram to Urim in Gjirokastër, with the request to depart as his mother was ill.

Thus, Urim joins his friends, Hekuran Shyti, Durim Shyti, and Robert Morava. Poorly oriented, betrayed by a local resident, they were caught by border forces at the border post of Nikolica in the district of Korça. The Tirana Military Court, with decision no. 21, dated 27.2.1964, declared him guilty and sentenced him to 18 years of deprivation of liberty, confiscation of property, the removal of the right to vote for 4 years, and the loss of the rank of sergeant. It was upheld by decision no. 23, dated 31.3.1964, of the Military College of the Supreme Court. For the second time, he was arrested on 19.2.1980. He was accused based on Article 55/1 of the Penal Code with very aggravating articulations. The Fier Internal Affairs Branch, with letter no. 112, dated 15.1.1980, requested the Prosecution Directorate to approve the arrests for three citizens, among them the aforementioned Urim Elezi. He had been taken into active processing on 17.5.1979 because he was conducting propaganda among the convicts.

Reports about him were made by “The Penitent” and “The Technician.” He was said to have expressed: “The Sigurimi has painted its hands with the blood of this people. They have committed the most hideous crimes that can exist in history, the Sigurimi has treated the people and the individuals worse than the fascists and Nazis have treated them..! There is no one viler than the communists. I call communists all those who have a star on their forehead like a tomato, regardless of whether they believe in Marx’s beard or Stalin’s mustache…! The most monstrous crimes in Albania were committed when the communists came to power! Life for us is a prison.”

The Fier District Court, presided over by Sokrat Dautaj, with the participation of prosecutor Kiço Koçi, with decision no. 94, dated 18.4.1980, declared him guilty and sentenced him to 10 years of deprivation of liberty, as well as the removal of the right to vote for 5 years. Convinced of the futility of communist decisions, Urim Elezi did not appeal the decision. After having sent a letter to Enver Hoxha, where he described him as a “colorless monster, sick with persecution mania,” on 6.12.1981, he was beaten by the police of Burrel Prison until he went blind. He was released on 10.2.1989, from Unit no. 305 Përparim, of the Saranda district.

                                               Continued from the previous issue

The Homecoming

We arrive around 22:00 at the entrance road of the village. My brother and nephew were holding me by my arms. We walk a few steps and I stopped. I could not walk. In such a situation, Festim tells the nephew to go and take X’s donkey, but I did not accept, so they both take me in their arms. We climb the slope that they used to call “Hashim’s Poplars” and “Haki’s Cornel” in the old days. It was February, very cold for my brother and nephew, because I could no longer feel the cold. Over there, a car’s light appeared – “Oh no!” says my brother. They take me and put me in a ditch, and they both turn their backs to the ditch so that no one sees who we are. The car passes. That turned out to have been the car of the cooperative chairman, Gëzim Iljazi, with driver Sami Elezi. When the car passes, the nephew and brother take me in their arms.

-“Who is this? – I tell them, – the ‘Gazi’ of the Branch, are they going to arrest me again?” – “Do not worry, for it was the chairman of the cooperative with our nephew, Bale’s son, as the driver.” We reached the house. I meet with my brother, Bilbil, his wife Sabike, and his children. I ask them about mother, for I was afraid whether she was alive or not since I did not see her there. At this moment, my eldest brother Avdyl arrives. He meets me and tells me that mother is at the stove on the other side, but I must be careful when I meet her, lest her heart stops. After him comes Tatjana, the daughter of my other brother, Myzafer, and after her Drita, the wife of my brother Myqerrem. I became very upset because I became fixated that something had happened to mother, since everyone came and she did not. I began to shout at them out of great distress. At that moment comes Feridon, the son of my brother Festim.

Festim tells my brother Avdyl to go and bring mother, let happen what must happen. My brother, Avdyl, goes and brings mother. As soon as mother enters the door, she screams loudly. She faints when she sees me in that state. I could see no one, so I did not know what to do. My brothers take me and place me to warm up near the stove, but I was not used to fire and between mother and the fire, I began to lose consciousness. Shkëlqim, the son of my brother Avdyl, saw me and comes to grab my arm: – “Uncle, what is wrong with you?” I signal with my hand to go outside. Shkëlqim understood it as if it was because of mother and tells Doni to come quickly. Both take me and bring me out to the corridor. I signal with my hand that I want to go further outside. They again understood it as if I could no longer endure mother in that state, not that it was from the stove, because it was midnight, winter, February. As soon as they take me out to the yard, I caught my breath and my color returned.

Both nephews were crying, I began to cry too. We stayed for a few minutes and I ask them to bring me inside, but to leave me by the door, otherwise I would die, since I was not used to fire. They leave me by the door. As soon as mother sees me, she screams: – “Mother’s son, what have the enemies done to you like this. May they be cursed?” (It was the first time that mother cursed). They had placed mother at the head of the bed where she slept and me at the foot. She cries, I cry, and everyone cried with us. After midnight passed, I hear a woman’s voice from outside: “Oh Shkëlqim, oh Shkëlqim. Hey, has he still not arrived?” – “Who is this woman?” – I say. Festim tells him: “tell her to go, tell her he will come tomorrow.” – “Who was it?” – I ask again. – “It is Ladife. She has been staying here with us for a week.” An old woman, in all that snow, was waiting for me. Immediately I tell the nephews to go get her and bring her here.

I was surprised and wondered where Ladife had found that compassion for me. I remembered that Ladife had two brothers in prison, Bato, for non-denunciation, and Irfan Elezi, for attempted escape, who under great torture also gave up his brother. Their house is roof-to-roof with our house. The Sigurimi, immediately two days after I was released, cut the half kg of milk they gave to mother as a veteran. My brother Bilbil requested that the 1/2 kg of milk be returned to her. The power of that time tells my brother that the ration would be returned to mother only if she separated from me.

…Although they came timidly to meet me, in my mind have remained these contrast-greetings which I want to share with you, not without purpose. A former secretary of the local government: “Thank God you came out healthy, what happened happened, now you must repay the party…”! Extremely agitated, I reply; “the debts you have toward me and the Albanian people can never be repaid…”!

Two brothers-in-law of my brother Festim, Avni and Islam, from Dvoran, and Mukadezi, my brother’s mother-in-law with her sister-in-law Hatixhe, said to me: “we are glad you came out with your honor intact (faqebardhë).”

How did the thread of my life continue…?

I was not that boy of 1963, a 93 kg boy, but a man who weighed about 50 kg, without eyes and with legs that did not work. Every day mother would say to me: “son, here are the letters you sent me. Here is the shirt and the shorts with the crusts of your blood from when you were arrested, which I have kept for a long time on my chest.” At that moment I did not react. She continued further: – “Take them, count these leks that I have saved for you.” For a whole week, mother would say to me: “Read me the letters you wrote to me count the money.” I would avoid it, telling her later, I am tired, tomorrow, etc.; while my brothers and nephews found the moment and tried to have me have as little contact with her as possible. One day, I tell my nephews, Tike and Shkëlqim, how they blinded me. At that moment, unfortunately, the door of the room was not closed well.

Mother happens to open the door to enter the room. The nephews, because they were focused on me, did not hear the door at all. Mother hears the conversation and screams: “Mother’s son!” She collapses and falls on the cement. They barely revived her. From February 10, 1989, until February 11, 1990, when she passed away, my mother was with one leg, because she lost one when she collapsed to the ground. She lived with me for exactly one year and one day; I was released on February 10, 1989, she passed away on February 11, 1990. She was so distressed because of me that at the moment she passed away, she left a final wish to my brother Festim, to find me a Christian or a shepherdess wife and marry me. (When I was born, mother had a dream that she should not give me a wife of my own faith). When Festim gave his word and swore on his sons, mother closed her eyes…!

After mother’s death, I was left completely alone. Ever since mother’s seven-day memorial, the house was terribly guarded by the State Security. Furthermore, they threatened my brothers not to set foot at my place anymore, but Festim and Bilbil still came to me, once every two or three months and with much fear. Festim was in the village of Dvoran and came to me at night by bicycle, while the other brother Bilbil, who was in the village, could not come because he was paralyzed, but secretly he sent Sami Hasankolli and Nandi Elezi. The room where I stayed, alone in that entire old house, was very cold. The window panes were broken by the wind. The wind opened the ruined door of the room. Both panels of the corridor door were rotten at their base, and not only the wind entered, but also small animals.

Filth began to cover me. I caught lice and had an unprecedented hunger. Bitter cold. And I had only a pitch-black piece of cloth (stove-rag), in which I caught the lice I had and crushed them there. When I crushed the lice in the cloth, they would crack. I heard only one voice calling my name, and that was the late Sali Elezi. I could not answer him. After five days, Sali Elezi comes to me again, but this time he enters inside. As soon as he sees me, he says to me: – “What is wrong, O Urim, you look like a corpse (meit) in the face; what is the matter, speak!” – “I have been five days without water and without bread and no one has entered.” He ran to his house and brings me food. After him comes Gazmor Servet Elezi. When Moni sees my face which was covered in black spots from the lice I crushed in the cloth, he screams loudly!

From that day on, the whole village found out about my condition. The kin up to 5-6 generations, especially the families of: Servet-Tika, with two sons, Gazmor and Zenel Elezi (family-wise they are the most beloved people in the village of Floq, who made my life possible by bringing me food, as without them I would have died), Sali Elezi, father and son Sali and Bardhi Elezi, etc. Father and daughter Fatli and Muhamet and Gone Elezi, Sami Hasankolli, as well as my dear cousins, Berti and Drita Hasankolli, who respected me and stayed very close to me. Ferdinand Elezi, Ylli Shahinlli and my cousins, the four brothers; Selami-Xhevat-Sefer and Qemal Hasankolli, Shëndet Sadik Hasankolli, Xhevdet Hasan Ramolli, Selami Refat Ramolli and many others, not only washed me, gave me food and clothes, but also sheltered me in their homes many times.

I wandered from door to door from February 15-16, 1990, until December 27, 1991. (When I received the authorization and after two years we entered the house, with the intervention of the unforgettable Pjetër Arbnori (the first chairman of the Pluralist Albanian Parliament). I entered Building No. 6, “Floresha Myteveli” Street, Korçë. But before I entered the building, we were 22 persecuted families and the infamous system had given two or three authorizations for our homes, so that we would not take our homes, but instead, the former Internal Branch with those of the State Security would enter.

My dwelling was in the worst state, with plastic windows and without minimal conditions. Again when I came to Korçë, since if I returned to the village I would not get an apartment, my compassionate and noble former fellow-sufferers kept me in their homes, with their families. I cannot mention them all because they are many, but I cannot fail to mention in particular: Edmond Merdani, in whose family I found a very great familial warmth; I distinguish this from other Merdani families where I stayed, because Mondi accompanied me whenever I told him to the village. When they told me they would take me to Greece to have an operation for the fractures in my head and eyes, I tell Mondi to go to Floq to brother Bilbil: “to show you the graves of the parents and take a handful of earth from the parents’ grave for me, because the operation is very heavy.”

Although there were no cars then, Mondi went by bicycle and brought me the earth from the parents’ graves; Engjëll Fidani, my brother who family-wise with his wife Bekime, the blessed one, and with his two sons, Renato and Beni, not only did I perform all life’s needs there, but they themselves never left me: they took me everywhere they went and accompanied me everywhere I wanted, especially Renato, who besides this entertained me a lot with his smiling and compassionate nature. Pajtim Reshat Lalaj is also a rare man, a kind friend, very interested in solving problems. He accompanied and helped me in the most important moments of my life, not only when I was alone, but also in my union with Vjollca, as well as in the recovery of my family economy.

I would be called ungrateful if I did not express myself about my cousin, Nurian (the wife of Ali Pelivani), whom my mother loved more than all my cousins. She has replaced my mother, therefore as such she remains for me in this world and the next, my second mother, as she never left me even when I was deeply miserable. In short, Nurian has cared for me just like for her own children. She, along with her husband Ali Pelivani, her sons and daughters, has made consecutive efforts for me to create a healthy family. Therefore, she is today at peace as she looks at me with much love with Vjollca, the daughters Ursjola and Jona, my sons-in-law, my granddaughter Tamara and grandson Dasar.

I cannot fail to mention the family of Majlinda, her father Avzi Fezolli, from the village of Pilur-Devoll, her sisters and brothers among whom I would distinguish Vali, as well as her three uncles; Njazi, Hamdi, and Gëzim Bylykbashi. These treated me like their own son and always tried to unite me with a good person, who had to suit my nature and character. When they told me they had a potential acquaintance, they would dress me in the best clothes, as I was “wasted” from prison and advanced in age. Neither has Majlinda’s husband, Sami Hasankolli, my cousin and fellow villager, “taken his eyes off me,” who has treated me as an inseparable member of his family, something I say with full voice even today.

In the building where I live currently with my happy family, I cannot stay without thanking with deep gratitude the entire building, but in particular, asking for forgiveness from the others: The family of Pëllumb Tuxhari, every member of this family, who did not celebrate New Year without me, and Pëllumb is known by everyone, along with his father, the unforgettable Skënder and his mother Hyqmet. Pëllumb has become a worthy brother to me and his two parents, worthy and compassionate parents.

I cannot separate the families of the building, but I am starting the gratitudes based on the distance from the entrance of my dwelling: Ilir Muhamerr Berberi, I distinguish his father and his mother. Even though he was about 1 km away from me in residence, for 9 months and a bit when the building had no water because the Branch cut it, the unforgettable Muhamerr supplied me with water that he brought in his arms, both for his son and me; while his mother Mynever, since I did not come to warm up at their house, would send Ilir to get me and often brought me herself, full of cooked food.

Selim Misliu; the two brothers Allisha Koçiu and Muhamet; Fillareti Vreto, the wife of Marko Vreto, who was there for me at every moment when I was alone, like a mother and like a sister; the two families, Jakup Bako and Petrit Bako; Hyqmet Barrolli, etc…! On December 26, Sunday at 10 o’clock, God rewarded me with Vjollca Dhori Nedo. I had heard about Vjollca from conversations with others that she was very humane. Vjollca worked at the Court. I talk with my brother Festim and his daughter Irena, to accompany me to meet Vjollca in her office. We set a day and the brother comes with his daughter. I was dressed in the worst way, so the niece had brought clothes. I said to Irenka: – “Come, let’s go uncle’s daughter!”

-“No, uncle, how can I take you with these clothes?!” – she said crying. – “My dear, if she is truly humane as they say, she will feel sorry for me.” – “Well then, take him Irena” – says the brother. We arrive at Vjollca’s office. – “Come, father,” – she says to me. “Oh my! – I say to myself, – she calls me father!” – “Sit here, Vjollca will help you, father. I also have this lawyer friend of mine, Vali, to help you” (Vali Kondili, has helped us immensely in our family cohabitation, economically and spiritually). – “I have a trouble that only you and God can solve” – I tell her…! With these words, my family was created. On October 1, 1994. God blessed me with my first heir, Ursjola, on March 4, 1996. God blessed me again with my second heir, Jona.

In this benevolent line, I cannot fail to mention also my Kosovar brothers…! With all the respect I have for all Kosovar brothers, for whom a whole book would be needed to speak, I would like to distinguish Isak Gojnovski and his family, as they did not break the ties with my family even after the time they stayed in Albania. From April 1999 until today, Isak with Gjyle together with the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, come often to visit us, plus countless phone calls.

Isak is different from others, as he is characterized by patriotism, love for the homeland, and is an intellectual person. I remember a moment with him: after we got to know each other well, Isak asked me to introduce him to the right-wing parties in our country, so I took him to the Democratic Party of Korça, where at that time the chairman was Mr. Alfred Olli. We talked long with the chairman and as soon as we left there, Isak expressed his pleasure with very positive words, asking me again to continue our meetings with patriotic families of the city. / Memorie.al

                                                    To be continued in the next issue