Being a woman during the siege of Sarajevo carried a special weight and responsibility. Devoted, brave, dignified. Women, daughters, wives, mothers. Doctors, actresses, housewives, seamstresses, workers, saleswomen. They stood tall, ran bravely, spoke loudly. They ran across dangerous intersections carrying bags, full sacks, canisters, children. They cried, laughed, healed, comforted, hugged and loved. They were loved. And they waited. They waited for a long time and listened. They counted grenades and sniper shots. They counted the days until the next meeting. They counted steps. Their own and others'. They cared for everyone and about everyone. Women were the backbone of the city's survival.

Roses on Tršćanska Street

"On September 11, 1994 the snipers were again shooting at Trscanska Street as they had been doing every day. That was the only light in the dark. It means that for a few seconds when the tracer bullet flies by, you can see what’s in the room. And September is one of the most beautiful months in Sarajevo; it can be very beautiful. Everywhere around it was gray, the town was destroyed, everything burnt, the Unis building had been burnt, it looked very ugly. Suddenly in that grayness, on the other side of Tršćanska Street, in front of the Unis building I saw beautiful roses. The roses somebody had planted when there was peace and when it was supposed to look like that. Those roses went somewhat wild during the war. Nobody cut them watered them or whatnot. However, now it was in all that grayness. Meaning, at a time when nobody could clean up Tršćanska Street. When nobody dared to go out, to take a broom and clean up all that glass, suddenly the roses sprang up from all that. My feelings were that beauty couldn’t be described, the happiness I felt. I dressed and went across Tršćanska, you know, one sets one’s teeth and runs as fast as one can, because it was a clear day. And I took some scissors and I cut those roses and brought them back into my room. Later people asked me: Where did you get those roses? I said: From in front of the Unis buildings. They said, it was impossible. You didn’t cross Tršćanska Street because of the roses did you? I did, I said.'" - Amina Begović, Actress

During the siege of Sarajevo, women continued to engage in their professions every day, responsibly and courageously. They came up with new ways to travel long distances to their offices, schools, hospitals, places for humanitarian aid in basic conditions and under constant risk of injury or death, and how to effectively organize and implement daily tasks. At the same time, they worried about the safety of their family members and their colleagues and friends. They risked their lives so that life in Sarajevo would not stop. They were teachers, educators, nurses, doctors, journalists, bakery workers, saleswomen, clerks. Some of them were the makers of important decisions in the city administration in the areas of traffic, culture, utilities.

Not one day of rest for the kindergarten

"In the beginning, this means in ’92, all the playgroups worked for two hours, from 10 to 12, then they worked for 3 hours, and then 4 and this increased with the needs of the children. The winter period was the worst because there was no heating, but the teachers; the teachers came in winter, too. Every day without a day of pause. If there were no pre-school children, then there were school children. All children from 3 to 14 came." - Murisa Džanko, Kindergarten "Sunce"

What did you do during the siege?

I worked at a school, it was cold and uncomfortable, but the children still came to school... I got around for work, to get water, or even to take a walk on a quiet day... Since I'm a smoker, I often traded oil or some other food for cigarettes, it was like that throughout the war... I made all kinds of lamps so that I could find my way around my apartment at night in case of shelling...

year of birth: 1942
profession: Professor
gender: Female
city district: Marijin Dvor

Trams run from 7 a.m. until 6 p.m.

"Every day we had a meeting in order to discuss the security situation. There would be representatives of the BH Army, UNPROFOR, and at that time, representatives of the city police, and they would analyse the situation for that day, and would make decisions about the functioning of public transport. Was there only going to be bus transport through the dangerous road, or would the trams run, and along which route. Was it going to run the shortest route - from Alipašino Polje to Čengić Vila, or should it go to Skenderija, or maybe from Skenderija to Baščaršija. But every day we insisted on having as much normal public life as possible, so that people could feel alive and not as if they were being held captive in some cage." - Mirjana Stanić, City Minister for Communication

Women start a women's magazine

"In February ’94, my colleagues from the prewar women’s magazine Una and I sat down and began to think about starting a new paper for women, the need was great. Looking at people who were so hungry for papers, who read them avidly, who sold and bought back numbers, and 10 or more years old? We sat down and made a plan. What to do, without any paper, without any money. One day a German woman came, her name is Angela Koning, who said, why don’t you try to publish that paper. We said we didn’t have the resources, she said, make a plan, and perhaps we can help you. She went away. We planned the paper and prepared the material. She came back, and brought us the first money for the first six numbers. We were happy to be able to print that paper. A new magazine that began to come out in June ‘94. It was the main project of the Woman 21 Humanitarian Association of Citizens, founded by 55 Sarajevo women intellectuals from all the professions, who wanted to contribute to the struggle against war in their own way and to lay emphasis on the woman, one of the heroes of that war." - Dika Kapić, Journalist

What did you do during the siege?

The work I did was not easy at all. I worked as a medical technician in the department of surgery (general surgery), semi-intensive care, intensive care, emergency room, pediatrics, it was difficult, but I was also happy that I could help someone - that I was not useless... In my "free" time, I slept (of course, if there was no intense shelling). I worked a lot. I was tired both physically and mentally - so sleep was the best medicine for me...

year of birth: 1971
profession: Medical Technician
gender: Female
city district: Dobrinja

During the siege of Sarajevo, women left a strong mark on the cultural life of the city, creating even in the most difficult circumstances. Female musicians, poets, actresses, painters, sculptors and designers did not stop creating – their art was a form of resistance and a way to preserve the spirit of the city. In basements, apartments, galleries, improvised stages and workshops, art works were created that testified to strength and defiance. For them, culture was a weapon against fear, a silent rebellion against the invisible enemy that was trying to extinguish Sarajevo.

Describe your day and work.

Meetings and participating in cultural events, organizing exhibitions, looking for a fax machine and journalists-carriers of messages.

Sarajevo?

A trap for those who love it.

- Azra Begić, Art Critic

All I need is love

"I made a female nude with meat pie and baklava. I forced my mother to make meat pie and baklava for the exhibition, although exhibiting these without eating them was pure luxury at the time." - Amra Zulfikarpašić, Designer, Work "All I need is love"

Flamenco

"I put on a dress from the National Theater collection, put my makeup on, stepped on the stage and sang to a frozen, hungry and thirsty audience for whom this visit was more important than anything else. Face to face with the audience, who were in the same danger when coming to a concert or a show and when going home. We all lived like prisoners, both those of us who had come to play music, sing or act in a play, and the audience alike. All of us played together the Sarajevo Roulette, the Danse Macabre, that dance of death." - Dragana Ilić, Singer

National Museum on the front line

"The State Museum is in a very strategic position for both defenders and attackers. You know how difficult it was until the barracks were emptied. The Museum was open to attack from all sides. The military hospital was in the barracks on one side and they shot from there too, even from the big high-rise buildings, they shot from the upper floors. The Museum was surrounded and shot at from all sides. It was with very great difficulty that the staff could get into the museum. In May I knew that some of our people, after we were cut off, wanted to get into the Museum. I live across the way, in the big yellow building, if you know it, where the American reading room used to be. I tried to get near the Museum. I tried to get to the museum too. The soldiers immediately stopped me, in early May, when there were still street battles, you know around the Faculty of Philosophy, at least that’s how it seemed to me when I tried to get near. I tried to take some food to the people working in the Museum. The police stopped me. They said, 'you couldn’t go in'. I said, 'I’d find some way in.' And I did. And when I did get in, and said how I’d come, they said it was the worst possible way in, but there you are. I got in alive. 500 to 550 shells fell on the museum, on the whole museum complex. The area of the museum and the Botanical Garden cover 20,000 square meters. The Botanical Garden are 14,000 square meters. On the Museum walls and roof, they counted them in our fist repair works; there were 182 direct hits with shells or other heavy ammunition." - Dženana Buturović, Director of the National Museum

Premiere of “In the country of last things”

"We based the play on the Paul Auster's novel of the same name 'In the Country of Last Things'. We did this play during a period that was very difficult for Sarajevo, 1994, when Svrzo's house was like a little oasis for us. There we were able to work undisturbed, to rest. Because it was unusual, really, to be in the center of town in a house that was protected from the war and from everything that was going on around us. We did two versions of the play. One in English, one in Bosnian. In English we acted with a guest-actress, Vanessa Redgrave. That was on the 21st of August in '94, and on the 23rd of August we acted it out in Bosnian." - Lejla Pašović, International Theatre and Movie Festival MES

Describe your day and work.

Routine household chores, rehearsals, reading and learning English.

Sarajevo?

Cradle of courage, defiance, art, life and death.

How did you survive?

Working, and professional obligations.

What was ’92 like, how ’93, how ’94?

Euphoric, learning, resignation.

What would you call this period of your life?

Sad.

Your message from the end of the world, from the land of last things?

Isn’t it time to wake up?

- Irena Mulamuhić, Actress

Suada Kapić, Survival Art Museum (Bosnian House) in front of the National Theatre, 1994 © FAMA Collection - Visual Archives 1992-1996

During the siege of Sarajevo, women, in addition to their regular jobs, took on the daily burden of survival for the entire family and community. They brought water in canisters, looked for food, took care of children, the elderly and the sick, grew vegetables in improvised gardens around the buildings, sewed and knitted clothes that could not be bought. Their resourcefulness and concern were not limited to their own home - they helped their neighbours, shared, encouraged and maintained the spirit of solidarity. In war, without respite, they were silent pillars of survival.

Advice for survival

"If you could find a job on the side, then you could afford to buy something. If not, you could not buy anything. Some people had gardens and they would bring fruits to the market, but it was very expensive. I don't know the prices because I could not afford it. It was possible to buy a few cabbage leaves and cook them with rice. If someone had carrots in the garden or any kind of vegetables, at the market they could get 5 marks, 7 marks, 6 marks - just for small bundle of greens, if you could afford it. I couldn't. Onions were very expensive, 30 - 40 marks per kilo. Garlic was so expensive that I did not even bother to ask for the price. ‘Vegeta’ spice was so extremely expensive that I could only look at it. It was a difficult situation with flour. We received humanitarian aid but it was awfully expensive. There were a lot of swindles with flour. They would put plaster in the flour." - Arifa Ćosić, Housewife

A curler as a lamp

"I had a lot of inventions, but I think the oil lamp was the most interesting one. To make one you needed an Icarus tin can, or any other, but Icarus was the best. And a metal curler, a piece of cotton cloth as a wick, and any remains of candles. The curler, with the piece of cotton cloth inside, gets inserted into the tin can. You melt the candle wax and pour it into the can, and it cools down. The lamp is then lit up when needed."

Advice for survival

"I personally carried 30 litres of water at a time. Up the hill where I live. It was really a bare existence. And then, the water had to be used rationally. That was still the minimal amount needed for the household. As far as light was concerned, that was the most difficult, it seems to me. There was practically no light day and night. In the day the windows were closed with sheets of plastic, because all of the windows had been shattered. At night it was as dark as we had to spend a thousand and I-don’t-know-how-many nights in the dark. But we managed in a pretty intelligent way. We had no candles or lamps, so we took some of the oil that we had for food, and put it in little pots, and out of those we made little oil lamps by adding a wick made of a cork with some string pulled through it. And that’s how we lit the apartment. Not having light was one of the difficult things because on most days from ‘92 to ‘94 we often had to go into the shelter. Down there it was very dark and damp, and then you go back into your apartment, and there’s no light. Therefore, light was one of the important factors. Winter came. It was the first winter of the war. We had no heating fuel. We all had apartments with gas, electric heating, and so on. However, now we had to learn to live without those things. Where can you get wood when all the trees are gone? Then we started to chop them in the yard. I wouldn’t allow that. Since I am an agronomist by profession, I didn’t allow the trees to be chopped down. So at least they were saved. So then we pulled up saplings in the yard and waited for the wind to knock down dead branches. And we took whatever we had in the house: paper, old clothes and shoes, and burned them. At first we did it in the open, in the stairway or out in the yard. Until we got ourselves little tin stoves that warmed us up a little bit. So much for heating. We dressed ourselves in winter clothes in 1992, and didn’t take them off all winter long. That’s how we slept, because there was shooting at night. We had to get up in the middle of the night and go down into the cellar. And so we never even took off our sweaters, coats, and so on." - Ziba Hadžihalilović, Citizen

Sewing mashine

"A Singer sewing machine saved us. It didn’t need anything, no electricity, no oil, just me and my own strength and my sewing skill. What I sewed I bartered with neighbors for humanitarian aid items."

Survival - how did you get water, electricity, cigarettes...

I survived by managing in all possible ways. She went to the Brewery to get water. We stole electricity from our neighbours. Collected wood on Dariva.

year of birth: 1964
profession: Journalist
gender: Female
city district: Bistrik

Gloves

"Barter was my way to survive. I used to knit gloves from colorful wool vests and barter them for food or cigarettes."

Survival – how did you get water, electricity, cigarettes...

I survived only on instinct. I had no electricity at all, until my husband was wounded, and only when he was released from the hospital did I get priority electricity. As for cigarettes, well, believe me, I constantly exchanged food for cigarettes, and now I remember that 4 kg of flour is one pack of cigarettes.

year of birth: 1955
profession: Sales Associate
gender: Female
city district: Dobrinja

During the siege of Sarajevo, women were the driving force of survival. Among other things, they were brave daughters, sisters, mothers. Some of them gave birth to children during the siege. How did they decide on the brave feat of giving birth in a maternity hospital that had neither electricity nor water? From what did they draw the strength to feed the newborns, and to take care of their families at the same time? We talked with Maja Tulić about the symbolism of the birth of a new life in the midst of the destruction of the existing world.

"Women under siege became the greatest improvisers of normal life"

Maja Tulić

Citizen

Photo: Maja Tulić - Then (The Siege of Sarajevo 1992-96) and now (personal archives)

02.05.1992 - I entered the war in the 6th month of pregnancy with my wife and daughter Srna, who was 10 months old. From that day on, we lived in readiness and with a bag ready to go to the basement, so I didn't even think much about the pregnancy because it was a part of me, and there was a baby who was not even one year old, who needed to be provided with food, water and a safe place.

Maja Tulić: Already in the second month of the war, on June 10, 1992, my husband was wounded by an aggressor's grenade and lost both legs. From that day and the next 6 months, my husband was in the hospital, and I was in the 7th month of pregnancy with Srna, who was 17 days away from her first birthday. We survived that period with great help from neighbours, friends, family and many people I had only just met.

The three months of the war pregnancy were thus spent in a daily struggle for survival. I did the check-ups on the way when I managed to get to the hospital to visit my husband, that's how we spent Srna's first birthday: we visited dad and had a check-up.

The day came when the baby was due on August 11, 1992. year. In the morning, with the help of my two friends who brought a barrel of water from the neighbourhood, I started getting ready for the hospital. My mom stayed alone at home with Srna. So ready, I first asked my neighbours to observe the situation from the top floor, because you can see the Military Hospital where they organized a small labour room. It was a room all in concrete and it was the safest, in which there were four beds, four baskets for babies and a table for childbirth. One screen was a dividing wall, because everything took place in that room, from giving birth to leaving the hospital. The birth was very easy and fast with wonderful and professional doctors. I must mention Dr. Jasna Gutić and Dr. Mirsad Puzić who worked 24 hours a day.

And so my second daughter Emina was born. In that uncertain and difficult time, the most important thing for me was to ensure the safety of my daughters and to preserve these two little beings.

Maternity hospital attacked

"And I gave birth in the State Hospital, which before that had no labour room, nor did it even deal with these things. And so, out of an old x-ray room that was made of concrete, they improvised a labour room with four beds, four little cribs and a bed for the midwife. So that we were all in there together with a bed for giving birth. When I gave birth in the afternoon to my second little girl, another woman arrived that night to give birth. However, the operating room was very busy that night, and the midwife was called there for assistance. A doctor delivered the baby, but he had no one to assist him. Since I had gotten up immediately after having given birth, he called me over to wash the baby. At that I told him that I had never even seen my own baby at the first moment, neither the first, nor this one, which was my second. I had never seen a baby right after being born. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. Just take the water. It wasn’t real water; it was some sort of special disinfectant for the baby and the mother. And so I assisted in that birth. When I got out of the hospital, on the fifth or sixth day, I plunged into normal Sarajevo life. The struggle for water, the struggle for survival." - Maja Tulić, Citizen

How did everyday life go in your house with a new family member? How did everyday life change? What did everyday care for a newborn mean from the perspective of a woman/mother/wife, taking care of food, water, electricity, and heating for the entire family? What do you remember in particular?

Maja Tulić: After leaving the hospital, everyday life in our house continued as it had already been established. The baby became part of that machinery for which, like all other family members, it was necessary to bring its share of water, milk and diapers. My mom and I couldn't bring the amount of water that was needed by ourselves, but many neighbours always brought one of our canisters when they went to get their water. Of course, even that couldn't wash the huge diapers of two babies, but that's where a wonderful friend of our family, Mirsad Ibrić, stepped in, who brought a barrel of 50 liters of water every night after curfew. For the first 5-6 months in the building, we cooked in the basement on an improvised hearth, and as autumn and winter arrived, box stoves appeared, which were lit. Then my husband left the hospital with both amputated legs after 6 months. That first winter, we got the first wood late, so we burned a lot of books, tapes, records, rugs...

The day came when the baby was due on August 11, 1992. year. In the morning, with the help of my two friends who brought a barrel of water from the neighbourhood, I started getting ready for the hospital. My mom stayed alone at home with Srna. So ready, I first asked my neighbours to observe the situation from the top floor, because you can see the Military Hospital where they organized a small labour room.

How would you describe your role as a mother and wife during the siege of Sarajevo?

Maja Tulić: During the siege, probably due to the specific situation in our house, I became very tough and simply started living with the attitude "I can do it all myself."

During the siege of Sarajevo, women were faced with numerous challenges, difficulties and sufferings, and they took on a key role in maintaining the family and community, providing aid, and defending the city. Women were mothers, wives, sisters. Women continued to engage in their professions, if possible, and bore the burden of family survival, taking into account that many men were on the city's defence lines, wounded or killed. From your own experience and from today's perspective, how would you describe the everyday life of a woman during the siege of Sarajevo? How would you explain, from today's perspective, the strength, endurance, fearlessness and rebellion of a woman under siege?

Maja Tulić: Women in war, besides being mothers and wives, also did their jobs, if possible. Women under siege became the greatest improvisers of normal life, because they created all sorts of things from nothing.

Do you remember any other situation from your life or the lives of your fellow citizens that particularly stuck in your memory and that also undoubtedly demonstrates the courage of women?

Maja Tulić: By the way, towards the end of the war, I became a mother for the second time and gave birth to my third daughter, Esme, on August 26, 1994. I think that was my bravest decision because it was already the second year of the war, and the end was not in sight at that time.

Water line massacre at the Sarajevo Brewery

"On the 16th of January my friend and I were on our way to the Brewery, just like every other day, to get water for the family. It was a very beautiful day, and clear and when we were half of the way there she asked me, 'Why didn’t you put on your sunglasses? They look so good on you.' When we reached the Old Town Health Clinic, I looked towards Trebević, because there was an opening, between the houses, through which I could see all the way to Trebević. And I thought to myself, 'if it’s that clear that I can see every fir on the mountain, they can see me, too.' We came to the first public fountain, which was about 15 or 20 meters from the fountain at which six or seven other residents were killed that day. It was my turn, and I had just put my 20-liter canister under the running water, when I heard a whizzing sound, and I saw that shell; it was going down the street like a car, down that narrow, steep, narrow street. It occurred to me that I should lie down, crouch, or something. But I didn’t manage to do anything. The shell hit a building. People fell to the ground. Everyone automatically started running into the large building of the Health Clinic, which was concrete. Only I separated from them and ran to a traditional Bosnian house whose door was closed and locked. I banged and banged so hard on the door, until an old woman opened the door and led me to her storeroom, where she and her grandchildren had taken cover. Because her son was on the lines at the moment and her daughter-in-law was at work, and so she sat in that storeroom with her grandchildren. And so I had been sitting with them in that storeroom for another 15-20 minutes, when another shell fell somewhere nearby. I heard my friend calling: 'Maja, where are you?' But I just yelled back at her, her name is also Maja from that courtyard: 'Maja, where are you?' When I went outside, street was steep, it was icy, water was running down the street, washing the blood down with it. An ambulance had arrived already, and they were taking away the dead and wounded. I knew that I mustn’t go back for my cart and water canister. My friend did it for me. I just ran, ran with no reason. The shells had fallen, and there was no more reason to run, what will be, will be. I ran home and into my apartment, I just ran in and for four months after that I never went outside. Not even out on the sidewalk in front of my own house. During those months I often dreamt that I heard that sound and saw the shell, but in different locations in Sarajevo. I even dreamt once that I was driving home with my husband and children from the department store. Because back when Tito was alive it was a two-way street, and then that same sound and that same shell came and slammed into the Old Town. And it's happened to me so many times, and for such long time since the occurrence, that I have dreamt that sound. Those people, that blood, that street. And to this day I still haven't walked down that street even once." - Maja Tulić, Citizen

In the FAMA Collection, in the Oral History 'Siege of Sarajevo 1992-1996', another statement of yours has been archived, in which you describe the moment when you happened to be on the street while going to get water and when the shelling started. You say that after that experience, in which you avoided death, you were haunted by images of killing in your sleep. From today's perspective, how do you explain the mental strength of Sarajevo men and women to continue their daily life and fight for survival after such experiences, and to start building their lives from the ground up after the siege?

Maja Tulić: After the massacre at the Sarajevo brewery where we went to get water, everyone who survived, survived by chance. For a long time, even after the war, the sound of that shell used to wake me up because somehow that sound was "special" for me, even though I had heard thousands of shells. Probably because it was the first time I was outdoors and so close to death. That sound was always the same, but the locations were different.

Women in war, besides being mothers and wives, also did their jobs, if possible. Women under siege became the greatest improvisers of normal life, because they created all sorts of things from nothing.

Describe your day during the siege of the city?

Maja Tulić: The siege of Sarajevo lasted 1,425 days, and for most citizens, including me, every day was about securing water, fire, and food. However, during the extremely difficult wartime, many beautiful moments happened and new friendships were made that will last a lifetime.