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We have all seen the news footage of the carnage wrought
by the conflict, but actually seeing the damage brought home
more clearly what the citizens of Sarajevo had endured during
those chaotic years. It is difficult to imagine a city that
hosted the Winter Olympics reduced to such a state - everywhere
I saw burnt out homes, crumbling streets and the charred remains
of businesses.
When I arrived in Zvornik in Central Bosnia, therefore, the
contrast was so stark that I might have been in a different
country altogether. The sheer natural beauty of the landscape
was breathtaking.Amongst the ancient trees stood small, lime-washed
houses with quaint terracotta roofs. It was like a secluded
Swiss mountain village.
Elsewhere I was constantly greeted with the traditional 'Assalam
o Aleikum' - and overwhelmed by the  hospitality
and kindness from complete strangers. One such, Vezira Piric,
- a grandmother in her eighties who had lived through both
World Wars - was a recent returnee to Serb Gorazde.She, and
all her family, had been forced to leave the area when her
home was destroyed. After 5 years of waiting, her house had
finally been re-built and now she eagerly looked forward to
re-starting her life.
Vezira was thrilled that someone from England had come to
visit her, and delighted in showing me the goats she had bought
with a 2000 KM Islamic Relief loan. I was touched when she
insisted I photograph her with her favourite goat and was
moved by her vivid descriptions of the violence and hatred
she had witnessed. Yet despite this she managed to remain
hopeful - certain that thanks to Islamic Relief her family's
life would be secure for generations to come.
I then went east for the most poignant part of my visit.
Near Srebrenica, in a field under a tree, stood a white stone
cube a metre high with the inscription 'Srebrenica Juli 1995'.
This is the only memorial to the 8000 Bosnian Muslims killed
by Serb forces that overran the UN-proclaimed safe area. The
Srebrenica massacre is generally regarded as the worst single
atrocity in Europe since World War II. An estimated 90% of
the victims remain unidentified.
The atmosphere in this place, where so much evil had been
done, was unreal and I find it difficult, even now, to accurately
describe my emotions. Sadness is too weak a word for what
I felt. Utter desolation is perhaps closer. I was in the presence
of spirits who had fallen prey to man's hatred, fear and mistrust
of that which is different. 
Seven years after the Dayton Peace accord and the ending
of the war, the world's attention has moved to other countries.
Most of the aid agencies have pulled out, whilst others have
dramatically reduced their activities. Islamic Relief, however,
who stayed throughout the conflict, remains - helping the
still suffering people of Bosnia to rebuild their country.
The focus of Islamic Relief's activities has moved towards
development rather than purely aid distribution - helping
people like Vezira Piric and her family to rebuild their shattered
lives.
I still have conflicting emotions about my visit, but the
respect I feel for the people I saw is absolutely certain.
It is difficult to remain untouched by the personal experiences
and suffering of the Bosniacs, but their strength in rising
up and rebuilding their lives after so much suffering earned
my unqualified admiration. All that they ask for is a helping
hand in the re-building process.
As for myself, I have tried to provide a glimpse of the people
and the beauty of Bosnia through my photographs. I know, however,
that they will never capture the true spirit and strength
of a people who will always live in the shadow of Srebrenica.
June 2002 [Article from Islamic
Relief's Partnership Newsletter, Issue no.20 Autumn 2002]
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