Urim Elezi, born on 18.10.1941 in Floq, Korça, was twice convicted by the communist regime with many years of suffering. He was imprisoned on 26.10.1963 and released on 10.2.1989. He entered at 22 years old and left at 48 years old, even blind. At the age of 18, he completed the Instruction School in Gjirokastër, where he was promoted to non-commissioned officer. In his first sentence, he was a soldier in Unit No. 9357 Gjirokastër. The first time he was accused under Article 64, in combination with Articles 10 and 14 of the Criminal Code. He was on military service, together with his friend Hekuran Shyti, in Gjirokastër. According to the court, he had proposed to Hekuran that they escape because there was a good life in capitalist countries, especially in the USA. Hekurani is released from the army earlier and during this time he finds the other people with whom he would escape. Hekurani sends a telegram to Urim in Gjirokastra, asking him to send him a message that his mother was ill.
Thus Urimi joins his friends, Hekuran Shyti, Durim Shyti and Robert Morava. Not well oriented, spied on by a resident of the area, they were captured by the border forces at the Nikolica border post in the Korça district. The Tirana Military Court, with decision no. 21, dated 27.2.1964, declared him guilty and sentenced him to 18 years of imprisonment, confiscation of property, deprivation of the right to vote for 4 years and the rank of sergeant.
It was left in force by decision no. 23, dated 31.3.1964 of the Military College of the Supreme Court. He was arrested for the second time on 19.2.1980. He was accused under article 55/1 of the Criminal Code with very aggravating clauses. The Fier Internal Affairs Branch, with letter no. 112, dated 15.1.1980, requested the Investigation Directorate to approve the arrests of three citizens, including the aforementioned Urim Elezi. He was taken into active processing on 17.5.1979 for carrying out propaganda among the ranks of the convicted.
"I pentuari" and "Tekniku" reported on him. He was said to have said: "The Security has stained its hands with the blood of this people. They have committed the ugliest crimes that can be found in history, the Security has behaved with the people and with the people, worse than the fascists and Nazis have behaved..! There is no one more vile than the communists. I call communists all those who have the star on their forehead like a tomato, regardless of whether they believe in Marx's beard or Stalin's mustache...! The most monstrous crimes in Albania were committed at the time when the communists came to power! Life here is a prison". The Fier District Court, headed by Sokrat Dautaj, with the participation of prosecutor Kiço Koçi, with decision no. 94, dated 18.4.1980, declared him guilty and sentenced him to 10 years of imprisonment, as well as the deprivation of the right to vote for 5 years. Convinced of the futility of communist decisions, Urim Elezi did not appeal the decision. After sending a letter to Enver Hoxha, calling him a "colorless monster, sick with persecution mania", on 6.12.1981, he was beaten by the police of Burrel Prison until he was blinded. He was released on 10.2.1989, from Ward No. 305 Përparim, of the Saranda district.
Returning home
We arrive at around 10:00 PM at the entrance road to the village. My brother and nephew were holding my arms. We walked a few steps and stopped. I couldn’t walk. In such a situation, Festimi tells his widowed nephew to take X’s donkey, but I refused, so they both take me in their arms. We climb the hill called “Plepat e Hashimit” and “Thana e Hakiut” (The Voice of Haki). It was short, very cold for my brother and nephew, because I couldn’t feel the cold anymore. Over there, I saw a car light - “Obobo”?! - says my brother. They take me and put me in the cart and both turn with their backs to the cart so they don’t see who we are. A car passes by. It turned out to be the car of the chairman of the cooperative, Gëzim Iljazi, with driver Sami Elezin. When the car passes, my nephew and brother take me in their arms.
– “Who is this? – I tell you, – ‘Gazi’ from Dega, they’re going to arrest me again”?! – “Don’t worry, it was the chairman of the cooperative with our nephew, Bala’s son, as the driver.” We arrived home. I met my brother, Bilbil, his wife Sabike and his children. I asked them about my mother, because I was afraid she was alive or not because I didn’t see her there. At this moment, my older brother Avdyli arrived. He met me and told me that my mother was at the stove across the street, but I had to be careful when I met her, so that her heart wouldn’t stop beating. After him came Tatjana, the daughter of my other brother, Myzafer, and after her Drita, the wife of my brother Myqerrem. I was very upset because I was convinced that something had happened to my mother, that everyone came and she didn’t. I started shouting at them out of sheer annoyance. At that moment, Feridon, the son of my brother Festimi, arrived.
Festimi tells my brother Avdyli to go and get my mother, let him do what he has to do. My brother, Avdyli, brings my mother himself. As soon as my mother enters the door, she screams loudly. She faints when she sees me in that state. I couldn't see anyone, so I didn't know what to do. My brothers take me and make me warm myself near the stove, but I wasn't used to fire and some mother, some fire, I started to get lightheaded. Shkelqimi, my brother Avdyli's son, sees me and comes and grabs my arm: - "Uncle, what's wrong"?! I wave to get out. Shkelqimi understood that I had it from my mother and tells Don to come running. They both pick me up and take me out into the hallway. I wave to them, that I want to go further outside. They again understood that I couldn't stand my mother in that state anymore, not because I was sick of it, because it was midnight, winter, February. As soon as they took me out into the yard, I was out of breath and my face was red.
Both grandchildren were crying, I started crying too. We stood for a few minutes and I asked them to let me in, but to leave me at the door because otherwise I would die, because I was not used to fire. They left me at the door. As soon as my mother saw me she screamed: – “Mother’s son, what have the enemies done to you like this? May they be cursed”! (It was the first time my mother had cursed). They had put my mother at the head of the bed where she slept and I at the bottom. She cried, I cried and everyone cried with us. After midnight passed, I heard a woman’s voice from outside: “Oh Shkelqim, oh Shkelqim. Oh, she hasn’t come yet”?! – “Who is this woman” – I said. Festimi said: “Tell her to go away, she will come tomorrow, tell me”. – “Who was it” – I asked again. – “It’s Ladifeja. She has been staying here with us for a week”. An old woman, in all that snow, was waiting for me. I immediately told my grandchildren to come and pick her up and bring her here.
I was surprised and wondered where Ladifeja had found that compassion for me. I remembered that Ladifeja had two brothers in prison, Baton, for not denouncing and Irfan Elezin, for attempting to escape, who also brought his brother out of great torture. Their house is a refuge for our house. Just two days after I was released, the security forces cut off the half kg. of milk that they gave to my mother as a veteran. My brother Bilbili asked for 1/2 kg of milk to be returned to him. The government at that time told my brother that he would return the ration to his mother only if she was separated from me.
…Although they came shyly to meet me, these contrasting greetings have remained in my mind, which I want to share with you, not without purpose. A former government secretary: “Thank you for coming out healthy, you did what you did, now you can repay the party…”! Extremely nervous, I answer; “the debts you have towards me and the Albanian people will never be repaid…”!
My brother Festimi's two brothers-in-law, Avni and Islam, from Dvorani and Mukadezi, my brother's mother-in-law and her sister-in-law Hatixhen, told me: "We are happy that you came out white-faced."
How did the beginning of my life continue...?
I was not the boy of 1963, a 93 kg boy, but a man weighing about 50 kg., with no eyes and legs that did not work. My mother would tell me every day: “son, here are the letters you sent me. Here are the shirts and shorts with the crusts of your blood when you were arrested, which I have kept on my chest for a long time”. I did not react at that moment. She continued: – “Take and count these leks that I have saved for you”. My mother would tell me for a whole week: “Read the letters you wrote to me, count the leks”. I would ignore her, tell her later, I am tired, tomorrow etc.; while my brothers and nephews would find the moment and try to have as little contact with her as possible. One day, I told my nephews, Tike and Shkelqim, how they blinded me. At that moment, unfortunately, the door to the room was not closed properly.
Mother happened to open the door to enter the room. The grandchildren, because they were focused on me, did not hear the door at all. Mother heard the conversation and screamed: “Mother’s son”! He broke off and fell to the cement. They barely mentioned him. From February 10, 1989 until February 11, 1990, when she passed away, my mother was on one leg, because she lost one when the ground broke. She lived with me for a full year and a day, I was released on February 10, 1989, she passed away on February 11, 1990. She was so worried about me that at the moment she passed away, she left a bequest to my brother Festimi, to find me a Christian or shepherdess woman and marry me. (When she gave birth to me, my mother had a dream that she would not give me a woman of my religion). When Festimi gave his word and swore for his sons, the mother closed her eyes…!
After my mother's death, I was left completely alone. Since my mother was seven, the house was terribly guarded by the State Security. Even my brothers threatened them not to set foot in my house again, but Festim and Bilbili still came to me, once every two or three months and with great fear. Festim was in the village of Dvoran and came to me at night by bicycle, while my other brother Bilbili, who was in the village, could not come to me because he was paralyzed, but secretly sent Sami Hasankolli and Nandi Elezin to me. The room where I stayed, alone in that old house, was very cold. The window panes were broken by the wind. The destroyed door of the room was opened by the wind. The two leaves of the corridor door, at the end of them, were rotten and not only the wind, but also small animals could get inside.
The dirt began to cover me. I had lice and I was extremely hungry. It was freezing cold. And I only had a black, dirty rag, in which I would boil the lice I had and press them there. When I pressed the lice into the rag, they would squeak. I could only hear a voice calling my name, and it was the late Sali Elezi. I could not answer him. After five days, Sali Elezi came to me again, but this time he came inside. As soon as he saw me he said: – “What’s wrong, Urim, you look like a dead man; what’s wrong, you’re talking”?! – “I’ve been without water or bread for five days and no one has come to see me”. He ran to his house and brought me food. After him came Gazmor Servet Elezi. When Moni saw my face, which was covered in black spots from the lice I pressed into the rag, he screamed loudly!
From that day on, the whole village learned about my situation. My relatives, up to 5-6 generations, especially the families of: Servet-Tiko, with his two sons, Gazmor and Zenel Elezin (in the family they are the most beloved people in the village of Floq, who made my life possible, bringing me food, because without them I would have died), Sali Elezi, his father and son Sali and Bardhi Elezi, etc. Father and sons Fatli and Muhamet and Gone Elezi, Sami Hasankolli, as well as my dear cousins, Berti and Drita Hasankolli, who have respected me and stayed very close. Ferdinand Elezi, Ylli Shahinlli and my cousins, the four brothers; Selami-Xhevat-Sefer and Qemal Hasankolli, Shëndet Sadik Hasankolli, Xhevdet Hasan Ramolli, Selami Refat Ramolli and many others, not only washed me, gave me food and clothes, but also often sheltered me in their homes.
I wandered door to door from February 15-16, 1990, until December 27, 1991. (When I received the authorization and after two years we entered the house, with the intervention of the unforgettable Pjetër Arbnor (the first speaker of the Albanian Pluralist Parliament). I entered Building No. 6, Rruga “Floresha Myteveli”, Korça. But, before I entered the building, we were 22 persecuted families and the infamous system had given two or three authorizations to our apartments, in order for us not to take our apartments, but for the former Internal Affairs Department and those of the State Security to enter our place.
My apartment was as bad as it gets, with plastic windows and without the minimum conditions. Again, when I came to Korça, since if I returned to the village I would not be allowed in, my compassionate and noble former fellow sufferers kept me in their homes, with their families. I cannot mention them all because there are many, but I cannot fail to mention in particular: Edmond Merdan, in whose family I found a great family warmth; I distinguish this from the other Merdan families that I have stayed with, because Mondi has accompanied me every time I have asked him to the village. When they told me that they would take me to Greece, to have an operation for the fractures in my head and eyes, I told Mondi to go to Floq to see brother Bilbili: "he will show you the graves of my parents and get me a doçka from the grave of my parents, because the operation is very serious".
Although there were no cars then, Mondi went by bicycle and brought me the soil from my parents' graves; Engjëll Fidani, my brother who, together with his wife Bekime, the blessed one, and his two sons, Renato and Ben, not only provided for all the necessities of life there, but they themselves never left me: they took me wherever they went and accompanied me wherever I wanted, especially Renato, who also entertained me a lot with his smiling and compassionate nature. Pajtim Reshat Lalaj is also a rare person, a kind friend, very interested in solving problems. He has accompanied and helped me in the most important moments of life, not only when I was alone, but also in my union with Vjollca, as well as in the recovery of my family economy.
I would be ungrateful if I did not mention my cousin, Nurian (Ali Pelivan's wife), whom my mother loved more than all my cousins. She has replaced my mother, so as such she remains for me in this world and the next, my second mother, as she has never been separated from me even when I was very miserable. In short, Nurian has taken care of me, just like she did for her children. She, together with her husband Ali Pelivan, her sons and daughters, have made successive efforts for me to create a healthy family. Therefore, she is comfortable today as she looks at me with great love with Vjollca, her daughters Urjolsa and Jona, my sons-in-law, niece Tamara and nephew Dasar.
I cannot leave out Majlinda's family, her father Avzi Fezolli, from the village of Pilur-Devoll, her sisters and brothers, among whom I would single out Vali, as well as her three uncles; Njazi, Hamdi and Gëzim Bylykbashi. They had me as their son and always tried to unite me with a good man, who had to adapt to my nature and character. When they told me that they had an opportunity to meet me, they dressed me in the best clothes, since I was "worn out" by prison and in old age. Majlinda's husband, Sami Hasankolli, my cousin and fellow villager, did not "take me out of his sight" either, who treated me as an inseparable member of his family, something I say with all my heart even today.
In the palace where I live and currently with my happy family, I cannot help but express my deep gratitude to the entire palace, but in particular, asking for forgiveness from others: Pëllumb Tuxhari's family, every member of this family, who did not celebrate New Year without me and Pëllumb is known by everyone, along with his father, the unforgettable Skënder, and his mother Hyqmeti. Pëllumb has become a worthy brother to me and his two parents, worthy and compassionate parents.
I cannot single out the families of the palace, but I am starting the acknowledgements based on the distance from the entrance to my apartment: Ilir Muhamerr Berberi, I single out his father and mother. Even though he was about 1 km. away from my residence, 9 months or so when the palace had no water because Dega cut it off, the unforgettable Muhamerr supplied me with water that he brought by hand, both for his son and me; while his mother Myneverri, since I did not come to warm up in their house, sent Ilir to pick me up and often brought me herself, full of cooked food).
Selim Misliu; the two brothers Allisha Koçiu and Muhameti; Fillareti Vreto, Marko Vreto's wife, who has been there for me at every moment when I have been alone, as a mother and as a sister; the two families, Jakup Bako and Petrit Bako; Hyqmet Barrolli etc…! On December 26, Sunday at 10 am, God rewarded me with Vjollca Dhori Nedo. I had heard about Vjollca from conversations with others that she was very humane. Vjollca worked at the Court. I talked to my brother Festim and his daughter Irena, so that they would accompany me to meet Vjollca in her office. We left her one day and my brother came with his daughter. I was dressed as if I were worse, so my niece had brought clothes. I said to Irenka: -"Let's go, uncle's daughter"!
– “No, uncle, how am I going to take you in these clothes?” – she told me, crying. – “My, if she is really as humane as they say, she will feel sorry for me.” – “Well, take Irena,” – her brother tells her. We arrive at Vjollca’s office. – “Come on, dad,” – she tells me. “Obobo! – I say to myself, this is what dad says to me”! – “Sit here, Vjollca will help you, dad. I also have my lawyer friend Vali, to help you” (Vali Kondili, has helped us a lot in our family life, economically and spiritually). – “I have a problem that only you and God can solve for me” – I tell her…! With these words, my family was created. On October 1, 1994. God blessed me with my first heir, Ursjola, on March 4, 1996. God blessed me again with my second heir, Jonah.
In this line of kindness, I cannot leave out my Kosovar brothers…! With all the respect I have for all my Kosovar brothers, about whom it would take a whole book to talk, I would like to single out Isak Gojnovski and his family, as they did not break ties with my family even after the time they stayed in Albania. Since April 1999 and until today, Isak and Gjylen, together with their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, often come to visit us, plus countless phone calls.
Isaku is different from the others, as he is characterized by patriotism, love of country and he is an intellectual. I remember a moment with him: after we got to know each other well, Isaku asked me to introduce him to the right-wing parties in our country, so I took him to the Democratic Party of Korça, where at that time Mr. Alfred Olli was the chairman. We talked for a long time with the chairman and as soon as we left there, Isaku expressed his pleasure to me in very positive words, asking me again to continue our meetings with patriotic families of the city./ Memorie.al
