My NKOTB Poster- A drop of hope in the ocean of despair

I’ll start my story with this quote:

“The siege of Sarajevo, as it came to be popularly known, was an episode of such notoriety in the conflict in the former Yugoslavia that one must go back to World War II to find a parallel in European history. Not since then had a professional army conducted a campaign of unrelenting violence against the inhabitants of a European city so as to reduce them to a state of medieval deprivation in which they were in constant fear of death. In the period covered in this Indictment, there was nowhere safe for a Sarajevan, not at home, at school, in a hospital, from deliberate attack.

— Prosecution Opening Statement, International Crime Tribunal for former Yugoslavia, The Hague vs Stanislav Galić, 2003”

But, there was one place safe from the war- a world of dreams.

The world of dreams that was so alive during the siege of Sarajevo disappeared after the war. Actually, it just got buried deep inside of me. But, the moment when my mother gave me a box filled with stuff she kept from the wartime, it all came back. Inside the box there was an English language book and as I turned the first page and saw my very own signature from 1992 ("Mrs. Knight”), a wave of emotions came rushing in. The following pages were filled with lyrics of the NKOTB songs and among those love song lyrics was a question written in bold letters  "How long we’ll be alive?”.

I remember April 5, 1992 sometimes more vividly than childbirths of both of my children. On that day, I was stripped of everything I took for granted. In the blink of an eye, the food, electricity, water, traffic noise, playgrounds filled with children, flowers in the park, pigeons surrounding fountain on Bascarsija... vanished.

The Siege of Sarajevo was the longest siege of a city
in the history of modern warfare (Apr 5,1992-Feb 29,1996)

The spring blossom was tainted by the first drop of blood from the first victim of Sarajevo siege- a 24 years old student from Dubrovnik. She was bravely and passionately protesting against the war and evil, not wanting to accept that she already lost the battle. The city lost too. It faded over night, like someone painted it gray erasing every colour and life in it. It would take us a while to turn gray into colour, to trade death for life.

I survived the siege.  I survived bombs and snipers. Twenty years ago, they were my today and my tomorrow. 1425 todays and tomorrows. I’ve seen the face of death - it looks like a mother's face deformed by excruciating, heartbreaking pain while lookingat the blood spot that is all that is left of her child. I also know how it smells- It can either smell like a butcher shop if your shoes are soaked in blood or like a burned hair if a bullet misses your head by a millimetre. But, I survived.

When you are 14, you feel invincible! No one can tell you what to do or not to. I never liked going to shelter and my poor mother was unable to make me. I could not live underground. I was not a rat. 

I didn't mind the mortar shells and fires. I didn't mind sleeping in several layers of clothes to stay warm and always be ready to move in case the enemy gets closer. I didn't mind carrying almost my weight of containers filled with drinking water for miles. I didn't mind bathing in rain.  I didn't mind waiting in line for hours to get a humanitarian aid that would barely keep us alive. I didn't mind the hunger, which overtime turned to numbness. I didn't mind living without electricity and without dignity ... I didn't mind any of it, as long as I could be in my room.

I would look at the NKOTB poster and their smiley faces. I would picture myself among the screaming fans at one of their concerts and not cuddled up alone in the corner of the dark and cold room. My body would be moving to the sounds of music and not uncontrollably shaking from the fear. My mouth would open to lyrics of my favourite songs and not to screams of despair. And, my eyes would see the most beautiful sight- five young, healthy, happy, adored boys smiling at me, not the picture of a 7 years old boy shot by a sniper just in front of me.

Jordan Knight was my first crush and the war made him to be my only one for a long time.  Actually, Sabrija was the guy with a smile as radiant as Jordan's, the smile that would make my knees go weak. Sabrija was 19. Sabrija didn't survive. 

I was just a normal teenager, but nothing around me was normal. Except for my NKOTB poster. Except for their smiley faces.

Today, I am a mother of two beautiful children. I try very hard not to think about the war. And on many days, I succeed. But, the moment I opened the box my mom gave me, everything came back in a second. Twenty years ago the dream of going to the NKOTB concert made some unbearable days and nights bearable. Twenty years later, I am again alone in my room, this time crying all the tears I kept inside me for so long. I weep for the frightened 14 years old girl who dreamt such a modest and normal dream. A dream that I must fulfil.

Having the NKOTB reunited must be a sign. They are back together, not for today's me, but for the 14 years old me. I survived the war. How difficult it can be to go to their concert? Apparently, very difficult if you live in Bosnia. But, I've survived. Step by step, while hangin' tough..

11,541 citizens of Sarajevo died during the siege, including 1,500 children. Many, probably NKOTB fans.