After this event, probably in order to "protect" the Muslims, Bosnian Serbs banned Muslims from the only road to Priboj (and further). Thus, the Muslims remained in their reservation, facing a real danger of death if they dared to leave it. The Muslims organized demonstrations on several occasions; former Prime minister Panic's Minister for human rights, Momcilo Grubac, visited Sjeverin, a commission whose purpose was to prevent imminent resettlement was formed; however, besides verbal assurances, the Muslims didn't receive those guarantees that would have kept them in their homes.
It is true that, besides other "armies", regular units of the Uzice Corps had arrived to Sjeverin, but they incited rather than stopped the exodus. When soon after, at the end of February 1993, a group of Muslims was abducted from a train at the train station in Strpci (also located in the Bosnian Serb territory), it became obvious that official assurances only guarantee emigration. It was interesting that the refugees fled from Serbia to Serbia. Before the war, there were more than 500 Muslims in Sjeverin; today only about ten remain. At the moment, the only passable road is out-of-bounds for Muslims as well as officials, humanitarian organizations and journalists. This reporter is the first journalist to visit Sjeverin after the abduction of its inhabitants from the bus to Priboj, almost two and a half years ago.
ROUND UP TO TWENTY: Several buses travel daily between Priboj and Rudo (which is located two kilometers [1.2 miles] from Sjeverin). Immediately after leaving Priboj one reaches the border in Uvac. A Serbian policeman enters the bus and, standing next to a driver, with an experienced eye checks the national composition of the "baggage". We cross over to the Republic Srpska territory. Ten kilometers further down the road we reach border crossing Prelac and again enter Serbia. After Sjeverin lies Rudo and, definitely, Republic Srpska. In Sjeverin some of the houses belonging to Muslims are located next to the road; several almost completed Muslim houses have more than one floor. Quite a few houses are deserted; there are a few broken windows and doors. No signs of burning and destruction... A month ago, two years after the Muslims had left, police sealed the houses (a nail next to the door tied to a doorknob with a piece of wire). If the "seal" seems flimsy, there are numerous policemen who, in "Zastava" cars and "Lada" jeeps, certainly do not chase speeding cars. There is also a border post in a Muslim house; the soldiers say that the house has been rented. We encounter several locals in the village convenience store. We ask them what has happened to the Muslims? They reply that there were two deaths, one before and the other one after the abduction. "There was another one, round up to twenty," says a guy behind the counter. They demonstrated and then left, with bundles. Ten hours on foot. On village trails, via Zivinice, Sastavak, Kasidol and the mountain of Bic, they went down to Priboj. Some stayed in Priboj, while others continued for Sweden, Germany, Austria...
We go though the village with Ljubinko Dukic, a local, and the SPO representative in the Priboj local government. "It happened, I don't know what to say," says Ljubinko. Muslims still live in five houses, four elderly couples and the Agovic family. The Agovic family lives in a one-floor house a bit further up the hill. Inside we meet Salih, head of the household, his wife Hatidza, son Idriz and daughter-in-law Stana. The Agovic family is one of the oldest in the village. At the end of 1992, son Erid, together with his family, moved to Turkey; another son Jusuf is a professor in Priboj, one son is in Sarajevo and a daughter escaped from Sarajevo to Berlin. "How are you doing?" we ask. "Neither to Priboj, nor to Rudo, nowhere," responds Salih. After the abduction in Strpci, when the last group of Muslims left the village, the whole family, except for Salih, escaped to Priboj. Salih did not want to leave the house. When Idriz came back he met the last departing Muslims; Stana and Hatidza came back later.
Why did the Mulslims leave the village? "You know, people got scared. A man was killed here, several were taken away from a bus; people were afraid that there will be more and fled the village," Hatidza explains slowly. What is their life like? Idriz used to work in a truck factory in Priboj, but cannot go to work anymore, "closed road"; he is an upholsterer but cannot work, "no material," he explains. The problem is that they cannot sell anything: "closed road". They are making ends meet with help from neighbors and from Priboj. Daughter-in-law Stana, a Serb from Sehovici, has been able and is still able to travel without problems. When it was hardest she was bringing medications and food. Had the neighbors who left told them to keep an eye on their houses? "We were hardly able to take care of our house, let alone others'," they respond. "The authorities are now sealing the houses, but they should have done that earlier," Stana adds. Problems? The phone lines of all Muslims who remain in the village have been cut off; they cannot sell anything and the state asks for taxes and electricity payments. They haven't seen a physician since 1992. Stana says that they would have been dead long time ago if they relied on the state authorities.
WHO IS SCARING WHOM?: Idriz had a work injury. True, an ambulance came from Priboj but he had to walk back to the village. In the nearby village of Zivinice, there are a lot of Muslims; they don't have a physician, don't receive humanitarian aid, their children cannot attend school, "closed road". A Muslim Yugoslav army conscript from this village had to walk to Priboj in order to report for duty. Are they going to stay in the village? "We don't feel a need to leave. We didn't leave when the situation was most difficult. Our gratitude to neighbors, some of them were good people; I don't want to talk about that, if we live long enough, it'll come out," says Stana. "Those who left can't wait to come back; they would come to put plastic sheeting on windows, but won't come back until they get safety guarantees," says Hatidza. Salih jumps in: "People came from Sarajevo; they wanted to exchange houses. People would leave for Sarajevo if they could." "We are not going anywhere. Only if the great powers come and order - you must leave," his wife contradicts. "Only, there should be no fear." "There you go, some people use that and try to scare people," responds Salih. "There was a lot of soldiers, we had to stay out of the way a bit," Hatidza concludes this dialogue.
We go down with Ljubinko towards the center of the village. We come to a Muslim house to which a Serb has moved in. "That's the only one," says Ljubinko. It is a two-floor house in the center of the village. We encounter Slavko Vilaret, from Grbavica, on the stairs. He left Sarajevo with his wife and child in July 1992, "somewhere behind Tuzla, I do not know how." He left with what he could carry; an apartment and two cars were left behind. At first he lived with his family in Lajkovac and then came here; his birthplace is seven kilometers up the mountain. There's nothing there, he says, it's all overgrown. He's been in Sjeverin since January 1993. When he showed up, the house owner, Safik Strojil, offered him the keys. They had known each other from before. They went to Priboj and made an official contract according to which Slavko is to remain in the house until Sefik comes back. Has he heard from Sefik? Slavko says that Sefik was in Macedonia for a while; he is not sure whether Sefik has come back to Priboj, he hasn't heard from him for a while. Slavko is unemployed and picks up humanitarian aid in Priboj. He speaks about "living in somebody else's house" with some confusion. To this one can add problems with the villagers who object that he didn't stay in Bosnia to fight. "I suppose I can decide myself about my own destiny, I'm not underaged," he asks. Fortunately, he hasn't had problems with the authorities. He tries to keep quiet and survive. He says that's enough. Future? "I don't know."
While we are waiting for the bus to Priboj, we are joined by two Serbs from Pribojska Banja. They came to check if they could buy some hay. They went to see Salih as well. They'll be back, they say. The road is not "closed" for them.
A BOAR IN A HOUSE: We couldn't find the owner of the house in which Slavko Vilaret lives in Priboj. In Priboj, according to the "Merhamet" [Muslim humanitarian organization], there are still several hundred Muslims from the border villages. Those who had worked in FAP [a truck factory] and managed to make it to Priboj have the only "advantage": they managed to keep their jobs. Rifat Sarak lives with his mother Remiza in a rented apartment. His brother, with his family, lives in another house. Rifat left Sjeverin in November 1992. Behind he left a house in Sjeverin and his parents' house in the nearby village of Jelovik. They were neither mistreated nor forced to leave. What made them decide to leave? "Reservists, kokarde, Chetnik songs, uncontrolled shooting, provocations: all that did not guarantee a peaceful life," says Rifat. Reservists and volunteers forced them to leave; nobody came from the Bosnian side, adds one of the present men from Sjeverin. They suffered worst mistreatment from the Serbian reserve police. They set off over the hills; on the way they encountered patrols and checkpoints; some were even beaten up. They went back during the first year, completed the field work with help of neighbors; and that was it. Even now they sometimes sneak back to the village. Rifat has recently been back. The house had been untouched for two years. Now there's nothing; what hasn't been looted, has been destroyed, "as if a boar was in the house." "In some cases," says Rifat, "Serb neighbors took care of the houses". But, everything had been looted. He doesn't think that the neighbors were involved. "If they didn't help, they didn't do harm either," he says with confidence. "Even the electricity meters were taken from the house. The electricity comes from Bosnia, so they probably thought the meters should also be there," Rifat says excitedly. Will he return? Where, when there's nothing in the house. The others, who are visiting his apartment, do not agree. If they are given a safe corridor to the village, even via Pljevlja, they will all return. They ask Serbia, whose citizens they are: how is it that the Serbs from Bosnia can enter Serbia without problems, while they cannot travel from Serbia to their villages, which are also in Serbia? So far, Serbia hasn't responded.