FLASH
Shkruar nga Frrok Çupi
The misery of attachment was a greater misery than bread and shelter. What happened to the homeland of the unattached people and the 'stateless' people?
Now it seems how many Albanians we have around the world!... The meeting of the state with the Albanians in Athens, in Milan, then in London and in Germany, as if it opened the skies and connected people with the state. It seems that for the first time they discovered each other - the state and the individual. Reality had been lost. Only in 30 years, not centuries. Time has passed like the water of the sea since someone, a stranger, called to our shores of the Ionian, as if it were 'nowhere'.
"We will look for Admiral Vlora, we will look for him like a Jew in the desert!" It was an incomprehensible time, as even the admirals used the word 'Jew' as if they were insulting the Jewish nation or the Albanian nation. The wild phrase 'like the Jews in the desert' took an Albanian form. Albanians were scattered all over the world, but without a connection to their homeland. The misery of attachment was a greater misery than bread and shelter. What happened to the homeland of the unattached people and the 'stateless' people?
They were alienated!
The Albanian man there, while feeling lonely, did what he had never done before. It is true that in Greece they cut off the priest's beard. The owner was also punched because he did not pay them for the work done. Just as it is true that today thousands of living Albanians, in fact, do not exist as living but as shadows. They walk the streets, live at home, give birth to children, sing at weddings... but they don't exist. There are no registers for Albanians, because Albanians do not have names. Neither are numbers, as has happened in the most tragic acts of humanity, where at least man was a number. They will not even have a pension. Only their real name will be allowed to be written on the tombstone. Where were we when the tragedy of the Albanians was happening? Where was the Albanian state, that is?... The homeland would be like a father to them. No voice and no news could be heard from the inner borders; not even when the "Broom" buses came to the border, black cars with metal nets on the windows. Then all the Albanian counters closed the windows, as if there was no one alive.
Wish he had a phone where he could express what was happening!? We wish there was a government that would turn out to be their god! The alienated people set out to invent their own 'state', just like the 'Jews'. They invented the state as a force. They did not have as much strength as the weaker state, of course, but they did the 'strong' in a foreign country. Lately, until the last few years, local foreigners complained about Albanians: 'They make noise!,- they said,- in train stations, in the subway, in squares, in the market... Others even complained about murder. They were true. A man without a state and without a homeland becomes savage wherever he is. Then they invented 'superpower', not where it was, but superpower within. They talked about America, about the presidents of big countries, about the kings, about the Pope. Someone had a sense of adventure to the point of inventing a non-existent reality like 'I'm a tribe with the president of America'. The common sound of names in the world was used as a 'threat' against aphenidikoi or against ill-treatment in a foreign country. Presidents Bush and Trump were told that they were Albanians and "will make fun of" those who "treat us like animals". Only the connections with their Albanian state did not reach 'adventure'. There was no sound, no news..., not even a phone ring.
"The situation in our manger had become so unbearable that some took the initiative of holding a kind of general meeting," writes the writer Gazmend Kapllani. The writer himself was in that cradle of Albanian refugees in 1992, somewhere in the area of Igoumenica. Then the writer tells how someone mentioned the European Union. Applause from others. (The state, homeland, in fact, was required). In the end, writes the writer, the refugees decided to write a letter to the UN.
There was hope, that as soon as the UN would get hold of the letter of the Albanian refugee boys in a haur near Igoumenica... 'Everyone agreed. But a problem arose, writes the writer, - the problem that they only had a pen, but no paper. Then another big problem: They didn't know the address of the UN where the letter would be addressed... Then the last problem, that they didn't know where Filjatesi's post office was located.
Even if they knew the post office, who would let them go all the way there?! Even if the UN itself, which they would never have, what they needed as life itself, was their country, their homeland. Like the Albanians in the desert. The homeland was, but it was not. Not even a sound. They began to slowly forget the name of their country...
Lini një Përgjigje