Forced to flee their homes by shelling, S.N., her two young daughters, mother-in-law and sister-in-law had taken refuge in Dragaqine/Dragacin, south-central Suhreke/Suva Reka municipality. Two days later, Serb soldiers surrounded the village.
Now 52-years-old, S.N. has never before spoken of what followed, though rumours and reports surfaced within weeks.
“Every night Serbian soldiers dragged three to four women out of each house for an hour or two each,” The New York Times quoted witnesses as saying in a report from June 22, 1999, days after NATO forces had rolled into Kosovo, which became a ward of the United Nations for the next nine years. “The women were returned to the house sobbing and refused to tell the other women what had happened to them.”
The UN Commission on Human Rights also cited multiple reports of sexual slavery in Dragacine/Dragacin, but it was the Times report that laid bare the “horrific social stigma” that accompanies rape in Kosovo through the story of a husband who described kissing his wife – whom he believed had been raped – as “like kissing a dead body”. If she would admit it, he said, he would divorce her.
Today, in Dragaqine/Dragacin, there is a plaque affixed to the village well, down which 11 people were thrown by Serb forces and killed.
It was placed there by Rizah Trolli, 65, whose 83-year-old father was among those killed. Trolli also laid a cobblestone path to the site.
There is no plaque at the school where S.N. was held, however. There are no more children in Dragaqine/Dragacin, and the school has since been demolished.
Trolli said he “would not feel good” about a monument to the systematic rape of Kosovo Albanian women, even though his uncle’s late wife, Sherife, was one of the witnesses quoted in the 1999 Times story.
But in spite of the stigma, efforts to memorialise wartime rape in Kosovo continue, and took a significant step forward in late November with the opening of the Kosovo War Rape Survivors Museum in the capital, Prishtina, by the Jahjaga Foundation of former Kosovo President Atifete Jahjaga.
“This museum is a call for reflection, a plea to break the stigma, raise awareness, and demand justice,” said museum coordinator Bleona Hajdari.
Culture of silence
A tear in the back of a faded black jacket serves as a harrowing reminder of how a 27-year-old woman was dragged away to be raped. Next to it hangs a traditional children’s costume that belonged to a seven-year-old girl, who was also raped and did not survive. Her mother and older sister were also raped.
The clothes are among dozens of artefacts displayed in the Kosovo War Rape Survivors Museum. Besides dresses, jackets and scarves there are pendants and other personal belongings alongside harrowing accounts of rape and other forms of sexual abuse.
The exhibition, curated by Eliza Hoxha, speaks to a war crime that is largely absent from all other memorialisation spaces in Kosovo.
There are no official statistics concerning wartime rape in Kosovo.
To date, 2,092 people have applied for official recognition of their status as war rape survivors through the government’s Commission to Recognise and Verify Survivors of Sexual Violence During the Kosovo War, but so far only two women have ever spoken publicly about their experiences.
Trying to break the silence, the museum features two notebooks, their white pages waiting to be filled by rape survivors ready to tell their stories and by visitors to the museum who wish to offer words of support and encouragement.
“This museum is a tribute to the victims of wartime rape and contributes to fostering a culture of dialogue about this issue in our society and the region,” said Hajdari.
“The starting point was the aim of honoring the memory of wartime rape survivors and confronting the legacy of how their bodies were used as battlefields during the war.”
“With support from organisations such as Medica Gjakova and the Centre for the Protection of Women, we have gathered artifacts from victims across the country. The museum is inclusive, showcasing exhibits from both female and male survivors from various ethnic communities.”
Hajdari added: “I believe this museum contributes to the ongoing debate about how we memorialize the past.”
Memorialisation ‘should be done carefully’
Memorialisation of wartime rape and sexual abuse is highly sensitive.
“In Kosovo, many victims still live near the places where it happened, and they are already constantly reminded whenever they pass by,” said Heleen Touquet, a visiting professor of International and European Studies at the University of Antwerp and a senior researcher at the University of Leuven specialising in conflict, violence and gender.
Touquet said that while it is “really important” that what happened is documented and recognised and the victims are given some sense of justice, “there are various ways to do this, and a memorial is not the only option and perhaps not in all cases the best option”.
Touquet cited the example of the Vilina Vlas spa in Visegrad, eastern Bosnia and Herzegovina, which was used as a rape camp during the 1992-95 Bosnian war and which reopened its doors as a hotel and spa after the war without any plaque or memorial.
“Some people are really appalled by that, and think there should at least be a small memorial, but local people are not all for this, and not all victims necessarily want this,” she told BIRN by email.
“I think probably it would be best if all the stakeholders involved [people who live their now, the victims themselves, their families] would be heard. In the first place the question is whether the victims need this, and whether for them it would be a form of justice? I think that one of the problems is that many victims do not necessarily want to be reminded of what they went through, esp. given the fact that many still live close to where it happened.”
Veprore Shehu, executive director of Gjakova/Djakovica-based Medica Kosova, which helps war-traumatised women, said the crime of rape should be included in memorialisation spaces, but sensitively, not separate from other war crimes.
“There are a lot of hotspots identified where rape has happened. But placing memorials in small rural areas like Beleg, where a heinous massacre of civilians occurred and where victims can be easily identified, should be done carefully,” Shehu told BIRN.
Forty-six civilians were killed in a house in Beleg, near the western city of Decan/Decane, in March 1999. The UN war crimes tribunal for the former Yugoslavia also found that systematic rape had taken place in the village granary.
“Taking into consideration trauma and stigma, many victims do not necessarily want to be reminded of what they went through, especially given the fact that many still live close to where it happened,” Shehu told BIRN.
The house where the massacre took place has been rebuilt by its owner, while the granary has been demolished.
Hamid Zuka, a local councillor whose grandfather was among those killed, said a memorial should be built for those killed and for the survivors of rape.
“I was born after the war, and maybe many people, especially victims, may not feel comfortable, but I am asking for a memorial. Let’s not tell half-truths,” Zuka said.
‘Power of remembrance’
Wiola Rebecka, a psychologist at Touro University in New York and author of the book Rape: A History of Shame, Diary of the Survivors, said that places of commemoration can be meaningful for survivors, especially for those who could not see justice served.
“I have seen places in Rwanda, Bosnia, Poland, and Germany where they decided to build memorials and slavery museums. These are powerful and emotional experiences,” Rebecka told BIRN.
“People travel to places like that. That’s the power of remembrance.”
One such site is planned within the Law Faculty of the Public University in Pristina, where women were raped during the war.
“We are coordinating with the Ministry of Culture to create a memorial space inside the faculty building,” faculty dean Avni Puka told BIRN.
Some victims, like S.N., however, remain uncomfortable with such initiatives.
“I didn’t want any recognition or to be given the status of victim,” she said. “I also would prefer not to see any plaque.”
The War Rape Survivors Museum is open from 8am-4pm from Monday to Friday at the Kosovo Philharmonic building, Sylejman Vokshi 19, Prishtina.