A City Divided
The streets of Sarajevo buzzed with life on a crisp spring morning in 1992. Twelve-year-old Amira skipped along the cobblestone streets, her dark braids bouncing with each step. The sweet smell of fresh bread drifted from the local bakery, mixing with the morning air.
"Good morning, Mr. Petrović!" she called out to her elderly Serbian neighbor, who was watering the bright red geraniums on his balcony.
"Dobro jutro, little one!" he smiled back, his weathered face crinkling around the eyes. Mr. Petrović had lived next door to Amira's family for as long as she could remember. He often shared his garden-grown tomatoes with them and taught her Serbian words.
The First Changes
But lately, things felt different in their neighborhood. Amira noticed how adults spoke in whispers. Her parents kept the radio on all day, listening to news about something called "political tensions."
"Why aren't Mira and Ana coming to school anymore?" Amira asked her mother one evening. Her two best friends, both Serbian, hadn't been in class for a week.
Mama stirred the pot of soup slowly, her face worried. "Some families are... choosing different schools now, sweetheart."
"But why does it matter if we're Muslim and they're Serbian?" Amira wondered aloud. "We're all just people."
Signs of Trouble
The changes came faster after that. Soldiers appeared on street corners. Some shops closed. Graffiti appeared on walls overnight - angry words Amira didn't understand. The happy sounds of children playing in the streets grew quieter.
One day, Papa came home early from his job at the university. His face was pale. "Pack some clothes," he told Mama. "Just essentials. We might need to leave quickly."
That night, Amira heard her parents talking in low voices:
"The barricades are going up...""They're checking ID cards...""Did you hear about the family in Grbavica?"
The Last Normal Day
The morning everything changed started like any other. Amira ate breakfast - the last of their fresh bread with jam. She put on her favorite blue dress and packed her school bag.
But when she stepped outside, the street felt wrong. The usual morning bustle was gone. No cars moved on the road. No children walked to school. Even the birds seemed quiet.
CRACK!
The sound split the air like thunder. Amira jumped.
"Inside, now!" Papa grabbed her arm, pulling her back through the door. More loud sounds followed - pop-pop-pop! - and someone screamed in the distance.
A World Turned Upside Down
That was the day Amira learned what gunfire sounded like. The day her childhood neighborhood became a battleground. The day Mr. Petrović's geraniums were left to wither on his empty balcony.
Their city - once famous for its beautiful mix of mosques, churches, and synagogues - was being torn apart. People who had been neighbors for decades now looked at each other with suspicion and fear.
That night, huddled in their basement with other families, Amira clutched her favorite book and listened to the adults whisper about snipers and shells. Through a tiny window, she could see orange flashes lighting up the sky.
"Will things ever be normal again?" she asked Papa.
He pulled her close. "They will be different, but we will survive this together. We have to believe that love is stronger than hate."
Above them, the sound of explosions echoed through their beloved city, marking the beginning of what would become one of Europe's darkest chapters since World War II. The Bosnian War had begun, and nothing would ever be the same.When Friends Become Strangers
The morning gunfire turned into days of chaos. Amira and her family huddled in their basement, listening to the radio crackle with frightening news. The date was April 6, 1992 - the day that changed everything.
Life Underground
"Why are they shooting at us?" Amira whispered to her mother as another explosion shook their building. The basement was dark and cold, lit only by candlelight.
Other families from their apartment block had joined them. Mrs. Kovač, who always gave Amira candy, sat in the corner crying softly. Her son had joined the army last week.
Important Note: Many neighbors who were once friends found themselves on different sides of the conflict overnight.
The New Reality
After three days, the shooting quieted enough for Papa to venture upstairs. Their apartment was mostly okay, but the windows were shattered. Glass crunched under his feet as he gathered more supplies.
"Look what I found," Papa said, holding up Amira's stuffed bear that she'd left behind. She hugged it tight, breathing in its familiar smell of home.
Through the broken windows, they could hear:
"All civilians must evacuate!"
"This is now a military zone!"
"Show your identification papers!"
Broken Friendships
One morning, Amira saw Mr. Petrović walking down the street. He wore a military uniform now. He didn't wave or smile like before.
"That's not our Mr. Petrović anymore," Mama said softly, pulling Amira away from the window. "War changes people."
Before the War
After War Began
Friendly neighbors
Suspicious strangers
Shared meals
Empty tables
Playing together
Hiding apart
Escape Plans
More families started leaving the neighborhood. Some went to relatives in the countryside. Others tried to reach other countries where it was safe.
"We should leave too," Mama told Papa late one night when they thought Amira was sleeping. "The children aren't safe here."
Papa shook his head. "The roads are blocked. Snipers are everywhere. We have to wait."
Small Acts of Kindness
Not everyone changed for the worse. Mrs. Hadžić from the fourth floor shared her last potatoes with everyone in the basement. Old Mr. Simić helped carry water when the pipes stopped working.
One day, a note slipped under their door:
"Dear neighbors,
The bakery on Koševo street still has bread at sunrise.
Be careful. Stay safe.
-A friend"
A Child's View
Amira started keeping a diary, writing by candlelight:
Dear Diary,
Today I saw tanks in the street where we used to play hopscotch. Mama says we can't go to school anymore. I miss my friends. I don't understand why grown-ups are fighting. Papa says it's about politics, but I think it's about forgetting how to be friends.
The World Changes
As spring turned to summer, their city transformed. Barricades appeared on every major street. Buildings were pocked with bullet holes. Gardens withered. The sound of gunfire became as common as birdsong once was.
At night, Amira would look at her old class photo. Smiling faces of children who were now separated by invisible lines of hate. She wondered if they were safe, if they remembered playing together, if they missed her too.
The radio brought news of fighting spreading across Bosnia. Words like "ethnic cleansing" and "siege" became part of daily conversation. The adults tried to shield the children from the worst of it, but fear has a way of seeping through walls.
Their neighborhood, once a patchwork of different cultures living in harmony, had become a battlefield. But in the darkness of their basement shelter, Amira held onto hope that someday, somehow, people would remember how to be neighbors again.Life Under Siege
The summer sun beat down on Sarajevo, but nobody played in the streets anymore. Amira watched from her window as people hurried between buildings, trying to avoid the snipers. It was day 45 of the siege.
Finding Food
"Look what I found!" Papa whispered excitedly, pulling canned beans from his coat. He had waited in line for six hours at the UN distribution center. These days, food was worth more than gold.
Daily Life: People had to be creative to survive. They grew vegetables in flower pots and collected rainwater to drink.
Mama had become an expert at making meals from almost nothing. She called it "siege cooking." Tonight's dinner was a soup made from dried herbs and the last potato.
The New Normal
Life had a new rhythm now:
Dawn: Quick trips for water
Morning: Hide from snipers
Afternoon: Search for food
Night: Huddle in the dark
"Remember when we used to complain about homework?" Amira's friend Selma laughed during one of their basement meetings. Now, they would give anything to go back to school.
Underground Heroes
Not everyone lost hope. Mr. Mahmić, their neighbor, started a secret library in his basement. "Books keep our minds free," he said, sharing stories with the children.
Mrs. Begić taught math classes using coal to write on the walls. The children sat on cardboard boxes, eager to learn despite the war.
Problems
Solutions
No electricity
Candles and battery radios
No water
Collecting rain and snow
Little food
Community sharing and gardens
Secret Messages
The children developed their own code language:
"Two birds" meant snipers were active
"Rainbow" meant food delivery was coming
"Dancing shoes" meant it was safe to go outside
Small Joys
Even in the darkest times, people found reasons to smile. When baby Mirza was born in the basement shelter, everyone celebrated. They saved their last pieces of chocolate for weeks to make it special.
"See?" Mama said, watching the baby sleep. "Life goes on. Even in war, hope grows."
The Tunnel of Hope
"There's a secret tunnel," Papa whispered one night. "People are digging it to bring supplies into the city."
The tunnel became their lifeline. Through it came food, medicine, and letters from the outside world. Amira imagined it as a magic pathway to freedom.
Community Spirit
The siege brought out the best in some people. Old rivalries were forgotten as neighbors helped neighbors:
Dr. Hadžić treated patients in his kitchen after the hospital was bombed.
The local imam and priest worked together to protect families of all faiths.
Children shared their toys, knowing that play was precious medicine for scared hearts.
Dreams of Peace
At night, Amira wrote in her diary:
Dear Diary,
Today we had real bread! Papa says more help is coming. I dream of peace every night. In my dreams, the streets are full of children playing again. No more bombs. No more fear. Just life, the way it should be.
Signs of Hope
Despite the hardships, people refused to give up. The Sarajevo Orchestra played concerts in bombed-out buildings. Artists painted murals on bullet-scarred walls. Children created a playground in a sheltered alley.
"This is how we fight back," Mama said. "By living. By keeping our hearts open. By remembering who we really are."
As another explosion lit up the night sky, Amira squeezed her mother's hand. They had learned that survival wasn't just about food and water - it was about keeping hope alive, one day at a time.International Aid Arrives
The morning sky filled with the rumble of planes, but this time they brought hope instead of fear. UN peacekeepers in their blue helmets rolled into Sarajevo's streets. Amira pressed her face against the window, watching in wonder.
Help from Above
"Look!" Papa pointed to white parachutes floating down. "Food packages!" Children who hadn't smiled in months now jumped with excitement. The aid drops brought more than just supplies - they brought hope.
✈️ Operation Provide Promise: Planes dropped food, medicine, and supplies to help people survive.
"We're not alone anymore," Mama whispered, tears in her eyes as she watched the peacekeepers set up their posts.
New Friends in Blue Helmets
Lieutenant Maria from Spain gave chocolate to the children. "My daughter at home is your age," she told Amira, showing her a photo. "She would want you to have this."
What UN Soldiers Brought
How It Helped
Food packages
Fed hungry families
Medicine
Healed the sick
Safe zones
Protected people
Brave Heroes
One day, a young peacekeeper named James risked his life to save a little boy caught in sniper fire. The whole neighborhood cheered as he carried the child to safety.
"Sometimes the biggest heroes come from far away," Papa said, watching James return to his post.
A Special Delivery
Through the tunnel came something precious - letters from the outside world. Amira's hands shook as she opened one from her cousin in Germany:
Dear Amira,
We think of you every day. The whole world is working to help bring peace. Stay strong. We will be together again soon.
Love, Sara
Peace Talks Begin
"They're talking about peace," Papa announced one evening, listening to his battery-powered radio. The news spread through the basement shelter like wildfire.
Mrs. Begić started teaching the children a new word: "diplomacy." She explained how people from different countries were meeting to help stop the war.
Signs of Change
Slowly, things began to change:
• More food arrived in markets
• Schools reopened in safe buildings
• Doctors got new medicines
• Electricity came back for a few hours each day
Small Victories
The community celebrated every improvement. When the water pipes worked for the first time in months, people danced in the streets, forgetting about snipers for a moment.
Brave Reporters
Journalists came from all over the...
[Content restricted to members only]