In 2020, the War Childhood Museum initiated a significant partnership with the Srebrenica Memorial Center to document the experiences of individuals whose childhoods were affected by the Srebrenica Genocide. This collaboration marked the first systematic attempt to document the 1995 Srebrenica Genocide from the children’s perspective. The compiled collection serves as an essential resource for anyone interested in understanding the genocide and its long-lasting consequences.
Led by Lejla Hairlahović-Hušić from the War Childhood Museum and Hasan Hasanović from the Srebrenica Memorial Center, the project assembled a multidisciplinary team of experts, including anthropologists, psychologists, and historians. To ensure the safety of all contributors and researchers, psychological supervision and support were introduced as important components of the project.
Father’s Razor
My father was a teacher, always clean-shaven and neatly dressed. As a child, I often watched him shaving and getting ready for work.
He didn’t survive the Srebrenica genocide. My mother and sister brought this razor in the bag they carried while leaving Srebrenica—I looked after it with care for many more years.
Whenever I tried to use the razor, it would bring back memories of my father and his boundless love for my mother, sister, and me. I know I would never be able to use it as skillfully as he did, so I am giving it to the Museum for safekeeping.
Emir, 1979
Children and The Srebrenica Genocide Project Results
Drawing upon the documentation methodology of the War Childhood Museum, the project laid a foundation for future documentation and presentation activities of children’s experiences during the Srebrenica Genocide.
“The Srebrenica Memorial Center gained invaluable experience through a joint project with the War Childhood Museum, enabling us to further our work in documenting oral history. The unique collection formed during the project consists of a hundred interviews with individuals who were children during the Srebrenica Genocide and holds great importance to the Memorial Center. The collected materials will be used to create new educational content at the SMC. We are grateful to the War Childhood Museum for this collaboration and the experience gained.”
Hasan Hasanović, Srebrenica Memorial Center
The outcome of the project was substantial, resulting in 100 recorded testimonies accompanied by the collection of significant number of objects, each bearing a poignant testament to the Srebrenica Genocide.
Project in Numbers
103
Contributors
100
Testimonies Recorded
74
Hours of Video
1176
Pages of Transcribed Material
12
Average Age of Project Contibutors during the Srebrenica Genocide
1975
Year of Birth of the Oldest Project Contributor
1995
Year of Birth of the Youngest Project Contributor
A Portrait of a Happy Family
When we reached the free territories after fleeing Srebrenica, we lived in the school building for a while before moving to a house in a village called Tinja. It was there that I went to school for the first time. I never said to the other children at school that I didn’t have a father. I held out hope that he would return one day, and that’s what I told them. They would tell me that I was lying and that my father was dead. It hurt me so much to hear that, so one day I told everyone that my father had returned home. I was so convincing that even the teacher believed me and called my mom to confirm it was true.
Without my father there, we could never take a family photo. My mom was still pregnant when they said their goodbyes, so my sister never even got to meet him. Originally, these were the photos of just my mom, my sister, and me which were put together using Photoshop. To complete our family portrait, we added the only photo of my father that we had.
In 2010, his remains were found. Each year I go to his grave and say a prayer.
Ermina, 1993
My Father’s Photograph
When my mom told me we had to leave Srebrenica, I protested a lot. I hid in my room and began packing all my toys in a big, black plastic bag. After some time, my mom found me and convinced me there was no need to bring all of my toys with me—we would return home soon. She managed to buy tickets for one of the last buses leaving Srebrenica, and we left that same day.
My father was a youth football coach. Although we had never imagined we would separate, he stayed in Srebrenica that day.
After some time, mom and I reached a small settlement in Italy, where we finally got in touch with my father with the help of some radio amateurs. He had started working as an interpreter for the UN Dutch battalion in Srebrenica. He never talked about the war because he didn’t want us to worry. Whenever we heard from him, he would tell us jokes and fool around. As I had started attending football practices in Italy, he often asked me about my progress and what I learned there.
When Srebrenica fell on the 11th of July 1995, we lost all contact with my father. We followed the news and listened to the radio for days, hoping to hear something about him.
My father, Muharem, was last seen on the 14th of July 1995, his birthday. We still haven’t found him. I kept this photograph in memory of him.
Irvin, 1987
#ChildrenAndGenocide Campaign and Exhibitions
As a continuation, in July 2020 a global online campaign #ChildrenAndGenocide and exhibition was realized together with the Humans of Amsterdam platform and the Srebrenica Memorial Center.
The campaign was shared on WCM and the Humans of Amsterdam social media channels, reaching over 11 million people worldwide. Pop-up exhibitions in Sarajevo and Stockholm followed the same year.
Enesa’s Engagement Gift
As my father had a health condition, we decided to try to leave Srebrenica and go to Tuzla. My father and I managed to board a truck that was evacuating the sick and wounded civilians, but my mom and sister stayed behind. In Tuzla, my father’s condition worsened, and he died after a year. By then, the Serbian forces had formed a ring around Srebrenica, so my mother and sister could no longer leave town. I notified them about father’s passing through the Red Cross. I was sixteen, and had to bury my father all on my own. A year later, my mother finally made it to Tuzla, while my sister Enesa decided to stay in Srebrenica with her fiance Sadif, promising she would follow soon. Once in Tuzla, my mother bought a beautiful set of bed sheets, which she intended to give Enesa as an engagement gift.
Years went by without any information about what happened to Enesa and Sadif. My mother kept the set of bed sheets inside a plastic cover underneath her bed. She would wash the sheets from time to time. After carefully ironing and folding them, she would put them back inside the plastic cover. We didn’t lose hope until we received a call from the Missing Persons Institute in 2002. They had found a body in the forest, and the DNA analysis confirmed it was Enesa. Sadif’s remains were found in 2015.
Even after finding out about Enesa’s death, my mother still took good care of the set of bed sheets. I saw that there was something my mom was still struggling with. It took her a few years to tell me that, just before leaving Srebrenica, Enesa confided in her that she was pregnant. My mother passed away in 2016. All those years, she kept the set of bed sheets underneath her bed. Before we found out about Enesa’s death, the set symbolized hope. After they found her body, the set became a part of my sister that my mother carried with her.
Elvis, 1978
