By Sokrat Shyti
Part Forty-Two
Memorie.al /Writer Sokrat Shyti is the “great unknown” who has recently showcased the tip of the iceberg of his literary creativity. I say this based on the limited number of his published books in recent years and mainly the voluminous novel “The Phantom Night” (Tirana 2014). The novels: “BEYOND MYSTERY”, “BETWEEN TEMPTATION AND WHIRLPOOL”, “THE DIGGING OF NIGHTMARE”, “THE SHADOW OF SHAME AND DEATH”, “COLONEL KRYEDHJAK”, “THE DAMP HOPES”, “THE TWISTS OF FATE” I, II, “SURVIVAL IN THE COWSHED”, as well as other works, all novels ranging from 350 to 550 pages, remain in manuscript form waiting to be published. The dreams and initial drive of the young novelist, who returned from studies abroad filled with energy and love for art and literature, were cut short early on by the brutal edge of the communist dictatorship.
Who is Sokrat Shyti?
Having returned from studies at the State University of Moscow immediately after the interruption of Albanian-Soviet relations in 1960, Sokrat Shyti worked at Radio “Diapazon” (which at that time was located on Kavaja Street), in an editorial team with his journalist friends – Vangjel Lezho and Fadil Kokomani – both of whom were later arrested and subsequently executed by the communist regime. In addition to the radio, the 21-year-old Sokrat had at that time passionate literary interests. He wrote his first novel “Madam Doctor” and was on the brink of publication, but… alas! Shortly after the arrest of his friends, to fill the cup, a brother of his, a painter, fled abroad.
Sokrat was arrested in September 1963, and in November of that year, he and his family (his mother and little sister) were interned in a place between Ardenica and Kolonje of Lushnja. For 27 consecutive years, the family lived in a cow shed made of reeds, without windows, while Sokrat was subjected to forced labor. Throughout these 27 years, he was legally obligated to report three times a day to the regional representative. He had no right to move from the place of internment and was deprived of any type of documents, etc. Under these conditions, amidst a cow shed, he gave birth to and raised children. It is precisely from this event, or rather a very long history of persecution, that he was inspired to write the book “Survival in the Cow Shed”!
Agron Tufa
Continues from the previous issue
EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK, “SURVIVAL IN THE COW SHED”
“In fact, apart from a few distinguished linguists who deserve recognition for their many years of research work, there are others with high titles who are trying to rank alongside them when they are just starting out. It is precisely this pampered category that is placed in scientific leadership positions! Almost the same criteria are followed for determining the hierarchy within the ministries.
Despite the noise made about merit-based evaluations, in reality, it’s the favorites of powerful people who rise to leadership positions, while capable and talented individuals are often overlooked. The same phenomenon occurs in judicial processes: when the composition of the judging body lacks proficient jurists, decisions inevitably come out lacking and inaccurate. Similarly, in the prosecution body, mistakes stem from the incompetence and weakness of the leading staff. Generally, with very few exceptions, we jurists begin to speak but do not know how to finish. Do you know why this phenomenon occurs?
Because we are constantly fed with ready-made articles and laws, rarely do we think. Now that I have finished what I intended to say, I will direct a question to you, one that I should have asked at the beginning: how did the mother-in-law react to the news of the military call?” – He added suddenly after this lengthy lecture.
– “Naturally, she was disappointed. And she expressed doubt that this was concocted by our detractors,” I replied.
– “A valid and accurate doubt,” he affirmed.
– “Then he asked me: why did they remember now, after three years, and did not call you to serve when you came to the Lushnja district?”
– “Do you see what the people can sense? Even though they don’t know that legally the interned individuals are not allowed to serve in the Armed Forces, they still display doubt about the timing as to why they didn’t call you three years ago when you were younger, but now…?! And how did you respond?”
– “This is how they have planned it. Only they know. What else could I say”?…
– “When we are unable to provide explanations ourselves, who deal with laws day and night, imagine how difficult it is for ordinary people to cope with and digest the anxiety of pain and humiliation. That’s why all their reasoning revolves around despair…” Prosecutor Bardhi concluded his explanation.
– “What vile schemes do wicked people concoct! And they feel pleasure when others’ hearts and souls ache?!”
– “Why is human malice so widespread?!” I retorted with a rhetorical question.
– “Because this is the synthetic composition of our human society,” Prosecutor Bardhi replied promptly.
– “For that reason, it will continue like this…!”
After this detailed explanation, I finally came to the conclusion that no effort would save me from performing the mandatory military service, even though the summons is, in fact, illegal! This means that no one could help me, including my benefactor with powerful influence. According to all the reasoning, if there had not been provocations from the top of the district power, under the vengeful pressure against the authority of the first secretary of the Party Committee, the Military Branch would not have taken this action, without ensuring beforehand that it wouldn’t bring dire consequences later.
As of now, following the decision from the Ministry of Defense, only a major force at the top of the state pyramid could delay my call to military service until the fall, when general mobilization occurs. Although, there are also completely special cases where even intervention from above cannot temporarily halt the summons, considering that work units are only filled with new recruits in the spring, the most dynamic and suitable season for agriculture.
“I was fully aware that there was no chance of going back; no one dared to stand up against this decision. I resolved that I would inevitably be separated from the flow of family life, and I focused my entire attention on the most significant event of my life: the engagement. The very short time remaining until the day of military departure compelled both me and my family to make the necessary preparations for this occasion as quickly as possible, certainly within our financial means. Especially in the survival conditions of these past three years, when we barely managed to buy the most essential food, we had been unable to save a single penny. Therefore, the only solution to fulfill the customary obligations remained borrowing money. This very uncomfortable economic situation plunged me into a consuming anxiety, because this was not just about buying bread for our mouths, which has only one solution: you stretch your legs as far as your blanket allows.
But beyond the basic survival, excessive expenses were required to buy expensive gifts necessary to display our family’s dignity to the bride’s family. It is entirely natural that in the most critical cases of facing dignity, the honor of the family takes precedence. And with such dimensions, it inevitably directs and leads all activity, channels the reasoning, and due to the lack of budget, becomes the cause of harsh contradictions.
I had no doubt that this burden of worry was consuming my mother before me, and she was preoccupied with finding income to buy gifts without leaving anything out. Regardless of the reasoning that the bride’s family would use their senses and logic, and that in general terms, they should be aware of our very difficult economic situation, strangely this reality is not taken into account at all, as this opposition is supported by the sensitivity of honor, where shame weighs much more than words. The final determination only gives honor a forced dimension, which demands maximum efforts, to the point where, as the saying goes, one must “bring money out of a stone”!
My mother had determined and specified where she would take the loan from. Without informing me, she sent a letter through a trusted person to her only brother in Berat, where she briefly explained the significant turning point brought by a gift from God in heaven through the party chief. She then got to the core of the matter: “Thanks to the kindness of the Merciful God, the youngest son will soon be engaged to the daughter of a respected family from Berat. (Later, I will write more elaborately). You, dear brother, who have just begun to earn, and have taken on heavy burdens, know that these matters cannot be accomplished with words alone.”
“Furthermore, we are forced to hastily arrange the engagement in the first week of March, as the boy has been called to serve in the military. (This is how things turned out. I will provide more explanations later). Besides you, I have no one else to share my worries with. You have always been by my side in the most difficult moments. Even when the earthquake struck, leaving us in the open sky, you came with your hands full to lessen our pain. But especially when the terrible disaster of the missing seal happened, and we were thrown into the cow shed, less than two weeks later, you sent those and the girl loaded with food. To no one have I complained, but I tell you: at those moments, my grown children, my oldest daughter in Lushnja and my son in Tirana, did not at all care about how to help this miserable mother in her moment of misery?!
You might say they had no means. But if they had love for me, and worried a little about their brother and sister, they would have found a way. I’m not saying to send the son or daughter to see their grandmother, but at least two lek to buy a pack of coffee and a kilogram of sugar. You, dear brother, felt for your sister and urgently sent those with the girl. At that moment, it seemed to me as if Saint Mary descended from heaven! We couldn’t stop chatting: we stayed up the whole night! Dear brother may your sister be a sacrifice for you!
I am so fortunate to have you so compassionate, and that you think of us every hour and moment! The Merciful God has granted us both a rare love to nourish our souls and minds, so that we never feel alone. I don’t know how I would have coped with loneliness in the cow shed if your brotherly love were missing! I might have lost my mind! At that moment when our dear Neta, (who raised us with rare love, like a wonderful mother, just as if she were Sofia who had given birth to us), without my son returning from work, dressed in rubber boots up to his knees and old velvet pants and a jacket, tears streamed from her eyes, and she could barely hold back her sobs!
She remained leaning against him, embracing and kissing him! It was a great longing, mixed with pain and tears. Although I wished you were present at that moment to see how the grandmother longs for her grandson, it is probably better that you were not there, because I can only imagine how you would have melted into tears, seeing your beloved grandson, dressed like a beggar, whom you adore. Such a bond of love, deeply spiritual, between an uncle and a nephew is a rare occurrence in this world, one in a million, as it is with both of you! I say with all my heart that this divine love has been gifted and blessed by the Almighty. Despite the fact that you are a communist and are forbidden to believe, God resides within your soul! If our country had hundreds of communists like you, with such a transparent spirit and a golden heart, people here would live a hundred times better, and terrible disasters like these, which plague us as if we have thrown stones at the Government, would not happen!”
“I was left speechless when they told me that a woman dressed in black and a young girl had arrived, loaded with heavy suitcases! The son of our neighbor, (a kind-hearted woman, a blessing for me that this wonderful widow happens to be around!), when he noticed that they were struggling to climb the hill, stepping in the mud, went out to help them, took both of their suitcases, and told them not to rush. Then, to let them rest, he first took them to his shelter, warmed them by the fire, and made them both coffee to gather themselves, as they were exhausted from their difficult journey. This precious boy, raised with a thousand struggles, has been there for us in every need over the years.
Together with my son, they go to the forest to gather wood for burning, as if they were inseparable brothers. And don’t think that wood is easily found here, just because it’s a village and there are forests. It’s not like the wood you can buy in the market. Only the roots of the bushes are cut down, with much effort and hardship. This precious boy helps his mother, (because she travels every day to work at the Gorra Depots, almost like walking from Ura Vajgurore to Berat, in addition to the heavy work she faces there, without resting for even a minute in eight hours, and returns from there on foot, loaded with bags full of corn!) Even though he is still a child, he brilliantly handles all the household chores: he cleans, washes the dishes, cooks, fills the water in the stove (the village spring), prepares the dough, and bakes corn bread! A golden boy, for the head of the boy!
This child has been borne from the amber soul of our wonderful neighbor, Shaja. God eased her suffering and struggles after her husband’s escape by granting her son the most valuable virtues, which are rarely found in boys of this age! I write so much about this woman and her son because the two of them seem to have been brought by God to keep me company, to be there for us at all times, day and night, whenever we need them. Shaja fills a great spiritual void. It shouldn’t seem excessive (since you know I always express what I feel), but Shaja has, during these years, replaced the love of my daughter with rare compassion! It is indeed strange and wonderful, dear brother, that in great despair you find a companion, a neighbor and a woman with a golden heart, who completely replaces the daughter of your soul, especially knowing that this one is far from her mother, just a short run away (as the villagers express the distance from here to Lushnja)! May the Almighty in heaven grant us strength and health to repay her daily struggles and efforts with kindness!
But one thing I am sure of: my son and I will be grateful to these wonderful people, mother and son, in this world and the next, who have shared and continue to share their bread with us! May life bring light to Neli (that’s the name of the boy) when he grows up and starts a family! And may Shaja, the kind-hearted, have a peaceful old age! This blessing comes from a mother with a burning soul, who has faced mountains of pain in her life, and as if the disasters of the horrific deaths of my son and daughter, in the prime of youth, and my husband ten years ago weren’t enough, today we languish exiled in the cow shed!… Without intending to write a letter filled with worries from life here, I poured out some of my pain and described how we spend our nights and rise to our days, we, the honest exiles, without committing any sin against the state or the people!”
“Now let’s return to the issue at hand that prompted the writing of this letter. In short, it all happened that Sokrat was for a time with his childhood friends, at the House of Culture, along with the girl he would soon get engaged to. And suddenly, among them, love’s spark ignited. (I will tell this in more detail another time when the occasion arises). For your information: the girl works as a teacher in an eight-year school and is the second daughter of Zoi Tusha. You have a wise brother, dear sister. I believe you can imagine that her parents and relatives had fierce objections to this love. (And if we were in their place, we would have acted the same way).
Because what mother or father would accept their daughter being exiled to a cow shed and tying her life to a porter, (regardless of the great education my son, your nephew, has), when she is pursued by suitors from wealthy families living in the cities?! But my son, your nephew, considering our situation, displayed the proper maturity, he held himself back and did not become entangled in this risky love. The girl, for her part, kept her feelings suppressed until the moment she was forced to reveal the hidden secret of her heart, when she found herself faced with three marriage proposals, leaving the choice in her hands. The girl’s rejection of these three cases automatically raised suspicion among her parents: since you don’t accept to get engaged to any of them, it means you’ve given your word to some other boy, and you’re hiding it from us!…
The girl had nowhere to turn and revealed the truth: “Yes, I want Sokrat Shyti!” – “The son of Thanasi and Ana?!” – They asked with a frightened look. And upon the girl, like thunder from the sky, poured down the storm of objections, not against my son and our family, but against the terrible conditions in which we live. I believe you can imagine how wild objections arise in such cases. Because no family with a good background accepts to make a marriage alliance with an interned family, especially under our circumstances, with no future whatsoever. Therefore, my son, your nephew, during this time remained silent like a fish in muddy waters: he didn’t even tell me about this secret relationship! So I had no way of knowing that there was turmoil in her house. You, being a communist, don’t believe it because it seems to you that your sister is inventing this in her mind. But in reality, this terrifying mess was resolved by God, the Merciful.
How? – You might ask. This struck the mind and heart of the first secretary of the Party Committee, showing him the right path on how to act in this convoluted case, reminding him that a furious beast is caught by the horns; meaning, above all, it’s his duty to save our family from the terrible suffering. Despite the seeds of disbelief in the Merciful God being sown among us, she, so as not to leave her faithful believers at fate’s mercy, sends angels to awaken from lethargy the few communist leaders, who have a great spirit and are ready to restore justice in those cases when it is outrageously violated, as happened to us.”
“Let others call it whatever they want, but I continue to regard the first secretary, as the blessed of God, since God has given him the strength, wisdom, courage, and has equipped his soul with divine love. That’s why he had the courage to stand up against the malicious, ordered us to be relocated from the cow shed, and to find shelter in a house, like most of the homes in our villages.
I never imagined, dear brother, that such wickedness could take such deep roots! This time I experienced it: instead of people rejoicing at the decision of the first secretary, which restored our denied rights, they remained astonished and sulking, as if our removal from the cow shed disrupted their interests! There can be no greater soulfulness than this! Why has the world become so tainted, dear brother?! After the war, among people there was benevolence and wonderful friendly behavior: we visited each other during all celebrations and sorrows, we helped families in need as much as we could, we offered advice whenever asked! But today, most have a monkey in their bellies!… Why this drastic change upside down?! Why is the human spirit being impoverished?
We who believe in God have an explanation: our world is being destroyed by the people themselves, especially those in power. Because when you drive belief in the Heavenly Kingdom from your soul, the void is filled with the devil. That’s why our minds become increasingly corrupt with wickedness, to the point where we are ready to gouge each other’s eyes out! If we had not fallen to this extent, the situation would not have reached the point where we were expelled from our home before dawn, and were exiled as if we were scabrous animals! Even if we had sinned, we would not be treated so brutally, as they treated us, as if we had committed the most shameful blasphemy!… Who could we complain to?! Everyone looked at us with terrifying eyes, almost ready to tear us apart!…
O Merciful God, protect our minds from derangement! – I prayed hour by hour. Especially for my son, who would leave the shed at the break of dawn and return in the dark of night, struggling without rest, forced to face every burden, no matter how difficult it might be! I thought about him every minute. Ah, my son, why did you take yourself by the neck: how could there be no one to convince you to stay where you were, but you returned here?! Even if a coercive measure were taken against us, from my mouth would not come a single complaint towards him, because I would be at peace knowing my son continued his studies without facing dire consequences, and later would be settled in a job?”
“Do you remember that article in the newspaper, which you always kept with you and showed to your friends, who knows how many times, because it pleased you that your adored nephew was appreciated so much that they sent him on vacation where leaders go?… I believe that during these past three hellish years, you haven’t taken it out of your jacket pocket. I can imagine how you feel when you see the newspaper and his photograph, what pain pierces your heart when you visualize him reduced to a porter, this brilliant student of yours, whom you often mentioned and took pride in before friends and society. It seems to me that I am also guilty for allowing him to return when the relations between our two countries soured. You might say: no one asked you to express an opinion.
Then how could you have known what the second son was plotting in his muddled mind those three years later he would bring us calamity, so that you could send your younger son the essential advice to stay where he was? Even if mother and daughter were exiled where the chickens scratch on stones, my soul would not be suffering as it is being tortured now, since the boy would not be suffering./Memorie.al
Continues in the next issue
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