Free Zlata's Diary by Zlata Filipovic Page A

Mimmy,
    Five months. Five months of brutal aggression against the independent, sovereign state of Bosnia and Herzegovina.
    A bullet entered the Bobars’ sitting room. It shattered the window, broke the TV antenna and part of the glass table, went through the armchair, broke the glass on the door, and finally FELL! The Bobars have had three other bullets. One tore through the plastic and lodged sideways in the wardrobe where it grazed Auntie Boda’s university degree and, finally, FELL! Another one broke through a window and lodged in the wall. And the third ripped through the plastic, grazed the armchair, entered Auntie Boda’s closet where it tore her vest and then again—FELL!

Wednesday, August 5, 1992
    Dear Mimmy,
    Another sad piece of news in the paper. Mommy found out that her uncle (Uncle Halim) has died. He was old but this war speeded up his death. I’m so sorry. He was a wonderful old man. I loved him. That’s how it is in wartime, Mimmy. Your loved ones die and you don’t even know about it. War doesn’t let you stay in touch with people, except for your neighbors. The neighborhood is our life now. Everything happens within that circle, it’s the circle you know, everything else is remote.
    Zlata

Friday, August 7, 1992
    Dear Mimmy,
    It thundered here today. I don’t know how many shells fell nearby. It was quiet when Daddy went with Samra to get the aid package. But then the shelling suddenly started. An explosion. It thundered. Emina was at our place. There was a terrible boom. Glass shattered, bricks fell, there were clouds of dust. We didn’t know where to run. We were convinced that the shell had fallen on our roof. We were on our way to the cellar when we heard Nedo frantically calling out to us, running toward us through the dust, bricks and broken glass. We ran over to the Bobars’ cellar. They were all down there. We were shaking. Mommy most of all. In tears, she asked about Daddy, whether he had come back. When we calmed down a bit they told us that a shell had fallen on the roof of Emina’s house, above her apartment. We were lucky, because that’s only about ten meters away from the roof over our apartment. Everything turned out OK. Daddy and Samra soon came running in. They had been worried about us too. When we got back to the apartment it was full of dust, pieces of brick, and we found a piece of shrapnel in the bathroom. We rolled up our sleeves and started cleaning the place up. I was scared it would start again. Luckily, it didn’t. Another horrible day.
    Your Zlata

Monday, August 10, 1992
    Dear Mimmy,
    Mommy’s Braco is fine. He’s already walking well. Today he went to Otes. He’ll be working in the press center there, reporting on the situation. Things are all right there. They have no shooting and they have food. They’re lucky. I really miss my cousins Mikica and Dačo. I haven’t seen them since the war broke out.
    Your Zlata

Tuesday, August 11, 1992
    Dear Mimmy,
    Shelling, killing, darkness and hunger continue in Sarajevo. Sad!
    I still don’t go out. I play with Bojana and with my kitty Cici. Cici has brightened up this misery of a life. How you can come to love an animal! She doesn’t talk, but she speaks with her eyes, her paws, her meows, and I understand her. I really love you, Cici.
    Ciao!
Zlata

Friday, August 14, 1992
    Dear Mimmy,
    Last night the Bobars came to listen to RFI, the way they do every night. Bojana and I were playing cards. We were all relaxed somehow and forgot for a moment that we are living in a war. The shelling started at around 9:30. Out of the blue, the way it usually does. We raced over to Nedo’s place. The shooting died down around midnight and we returned home. You can’t relax for even a second! Zlata

Sunday, August 16, 1992
    Dear Mimmy,
    Daddy has a hernia. He’s lost a lot of weight and carrying the water was too much for him. The doctor has told him