The Tunnel of Hope

The airport of Sarajevo is on our right. We can see the planes a couple of a hundred meters away from us. We made it to the destination that I have heard so much about since I was a little girl. The tunnel of hope... we made it to the tunnel of hope.

Today, this tunnel is a tourist attraction. Everyone who passes by Sarajevo makes sure to come by. During the war, Sarajevo was surrounded by the Serb and Croat armies. No people nor supplies could enter or exit the city. The UN decided it would throw packages of food and clothing from the air space above. But even that, the Serb army wouldn't allow the Bosnians to have to themselves. The Serbs made an agreement with the UN that they would only allow for these supplies to be delivered to the people of Sarajevo, under one condition: That the Serb Army take half the supplies and give the Bosnians the other half. The siege continued for three years nearly; the people of Sarajevo grew hungry, their clothing had worn out, the sick had no medicine to treat their wounds.

Bosnians are fighters I know that. I can see it in their faces until today.

To save the city from dying, the people of Sarajevo built a tunnel under the grounds of the airport. It started here, under the house of an old woman. 800 meters long, 1.6 meters high, and 1 meter wide.. it ended just outside the city in another house like the one we are standing in now. This was the only way they hoped the Serbs would not take notice of tunnel.

During the siege this tunnel was used to bring supplies of food, medicine and clothing into Sarajevo. It was used to take the wounded and the sick outside of the city which eventually had no electricity and no water.

I cannot explain how it feels to be standing here in this old woman's house. There is a lump in my throat and I cannot seem to be able to let out a single word. I cannot express to her the amount of reverence I carry towards her. The old woman's body is weak now and her face is crinkly, but her eyes show the strength of a thousand soldiers. I bent down and kissed her hand. She is a warrior too...

She risked her own family's safety by allowing the tunnel to start from her house. The Serbs eventually knew about it, and every day people were killed here, right where I stand.

With the rest of the group, I went into what still remains of the tunnel. I looked under my feet and saw a railway that was used to push carts of supplies on. Sometimes these carts carried the wounded too. I touched the wooden slabs on the walls of the tunnel. The wood had stopped the soil from toppling in... I put my hands where it happened ... and it all came back...

Many of the Bosnian refugees I had met when I was a young girl had passed through this tunnel. I had heard their frightening stories of how they made their way through the dark, damp underground passageway in hope of freedom. I woke up to night mares when I was six years old. In my sleep, I was with them, running away from the Serbs, I could hear the shot guns and the bombs on the ground above. But I had to keep running in that dark, tight tunnel. I was afraid that they would catch me, but I had to keep running. I could feel my legs getting weaker and weaker, but I had to keep running. I could see men with no legs and no arms. I could see young boys and girls crying for their lost fathers and mothers..I wanted to stop and cry with them too... but we all had to keep running.

2.20 pm

8/07/ 2010

The Tunnel of Hope,

Sarajevo