From Shefqet Dobra
Memorie.al / In the Çerme sector, it was customary that, when they received their salaries, the men would happily go to the only bar they had. They said to the bartender: “Today is our day, a coffee and a brandy”! For two days the bar was full. Even the brigadiers in those days, they also occupied a table with the workers. To order us. Also, the Security Operative, Bujar Peza, who sat in a corner near the door, was not missing, even for that, they would order us. That glass that we drank there, for some it was a blow out of the nose at home, from the women, since the salaries were low.
All other days the bar was quiet. Only pensioners went to drink a coffee and spend the day chatting.
The saying: “Today is our day, a coffee a brandy”, had become common.
They also used it on other days, when someone went to drink coffee, or rather, when a friend came to give them a coffee, they would order the bartender with our friendly slogan. No one thought that this word would one day become harmful.
This is where the story begins…!
Ibraim Qosja, worked at the electric drinking water pump in Konjat, for twenty-four hours, he had not left work. In the morning, after leaving work, he made his tiring way, because the sector was over an hour and a half away, and entered the club and immediately gave the slogan: “Today is our day, a coffee, a brandy”.
Derëziu had neither listened to the radio, nor read any newspaper.
In the café, the old men sat over their coffee cups and did not play dominoes and fight as usual. From time to time, he felt the gaze of the elders, from a look with an eyebrow that disturbed his alegre. The bartender, when he put coffee and brandy on the table, looking straight into his eyes, said:
– “Yes, today is exactly your day.” Laughing, Ibrahimi said: “Thank you to the woman who let me drink coffee for today.” The woman is the head of the house, they have the account, we men brag in vain” and laughed out loud.
The elders looked at him as if surprised; two of them got up and left without greeting the others. They were surprised by Ibrahim’s happiness, while Ibrahim was puzzled: “Why are these people sitting around today as if someone has died?” After drinking coffee and brandy, he greeted them, but not one of them answered.
When he went home, the center and the streets of the sector were alive. There was no movement that day. “What do these people have to do with me today”, Ibrahimi said to himself again. As soon as he entered the house, he fell asleep due to exhaustion and surprise that was taking over his mind.
That day, it was a day of mourning, because the main leader of the Party had passed away, for eight days all entertainments were suspended; if any joy was planned: an engagement or a wedding, or to be reborn, or to be taken home and that’s it. All Albanians these days should just cry.
He had passed away, not the parent of anyone, anywhere, but the “Father” of “all” Albanians. Some called him: “Father Enveri”, some; “Uncle Enver”. That is, everyone would cry: for “father” or “uncle”, whatever they called him.
In the first dream, there was a knock on the door. -“What is it that doesn’t let me sleep?!- Ibrahimi said to himself, opening the door. -“Hey, why did you make me sleepy, I just came from work, I’ve been without sleep for twenty-four hours”?! The neighbor with his head down said: “Operative Bujari is looking for you”.
-“Why…”? – He asked.
-“I do not know”! – answered the friend.
-“Where is it, at the bar”?! He thought that he invited him to drink some coffee together; everyone remembered that they had him as a friend; it was a great privilege to drink coffee with him.
-“No no! to the rooms they have here”.
– “Well, well, go! What to wear”.
“Don’t be late, that’s what he told me.” They did not know that the Operative had no friends, that he was more dangerous than the wolf; the wolf followed the herd all day, waiting for any livestock to separate from the herd, to snatch it, there were times that after all that effort, the wolf could be killed by the shepherd, while the Operatives, in order to catch the prey, did not bother at all, looked for it in the office and the victim was going alone.
When he went to Bujar’s room, the door was half open, Ibrahim pushed the door open like the other times, when he invited him for coffee – and, laughing, was just about to greet him like the other times, suddenly he heard a shout: “Where do you get in like this?” without knocking, at your house! Outside”.
For a moment, Ibrahim remained as if frozen at the door, looking at him, he could say; “I… I… I’m sorry, friend Bujar! I came like the other times”. He stepped back and knocked. He was torn from fatigue and lack of sleep, the contempt and the long wait made him completely legendary. Finally, Bujarin listened; “Come in”!
They were both on their feet, face to face; one looked surprised without understanding, why was Bujari looking at him fiercely today? Embarrassment made his forehead sweat. Suddenly he heard, you say: “Don’t tell me, take -shit shit- why did you have all that joy today”?! “What joy, friend Bujar?! I just came from work”!
-“You lie to the party, huh! Do you know who I am”? And approached him
– No friend… no….I is not lying…! -“You said at the bar: today is our day! Why is today your day”?!
-Ibrahim laughed, I remember that Bujari was joking- “Like always friend Bujar: a coffee and a brandy, because today is our day- you told the clubman”. -“But why is today your day, huh”! -“Today is not exactly that, it is not a salary day – he said laughing – but you know that we have become accustomed to saying this, even other times”.
– “Just like other times, huh? Let me tell you how your day is, dog and son of a dog” – he looked into his eyes, Ibrahimi did not understand, “friend… friend….”, but the first one is followed by the second, the third and so on, Ibrahimi did not could pronounce the operative’s name. When Bujari was standing, Ibrahimi could say with tears in his eyes: “But why did you take the operative friend, why did you do this to me?!
-“Why, what do you want, I caress you, you’re not even going to jail, for what you did, and…”! -“That’s what we always said, when we get our salaries, that’s what I said today.” -“Today that all Albanians are crying, it’s a day of joy for you, huh”!? -“Why operative friend, what happened”?!
-“Today that our leader has passed away, you’ve been yelling at us like those whores, in the bar, so many happy dogs, eh”?! Ibrahim looked at him; hit his head with his fist – to show the pain he felt, looking at him, as if the executioner was looking at the victim. The generous man today was not the one who smiled at the table when the order arrived. “Do you know that with this, you made your enemies happy? Even prison is a bit much for you, with what you said”.
– “I don’t know anything, I swear, I just came from work, drank coffee and fell asleep.” -“You haven’t heard anything at all, no one told you? What about the radio, didn’t you hear it”?! – “Yes, no, my friend Bujar, when I had time to listen to the radio, as soon as I got home, I fell asleep, I swear” and it was written in oil again. -“Do you know that what you have done is called enmity”? He grabbed him by the collar, pushed him outside: “Get out of my sight, and these days, don’t leave the sector”! – He said.
All those days – Ibrahimi, he was waiting not to be arrested. Now Ibrahimi realized that the biography did not save him. Everyone in Ibrahim’s family was sad; fear tortured him for a long time, the word: “Today is our day”, and when others used it, he was afraid to hear it. When he looked at Bujar Peza in the corner of the bar, he was almost drooling, when he was getting his coffee – he said to the bartender: “Bring it to my friend Buja…”, the bartender said: good, smiling and shaking his head.
He drank the coffee as quickly as possible to leave there. One day when he was returning from work, a friend asked him: – “O Bimi, why have you become so weak, you have been sick”?! Ibrahimi looked at him a little – he said: “Yes, I was very sick.” – Why, what did you have?
-“As always, I drank a coffee and a brandy, I don’t know why, I almost died, I suffered a lot, so much that, my soul knows. – “It shoots once, you don’t know how the human body shoots, maybe the stomach doesn’t accept it. Past”! – said the friend. Thank you! – answered Ibrahimi. Memorie.al
