Lost or Found: The Story of Bosnia’s Forgotten Children

Lost or Found: The Story of Bosnia’s Forgotten Children

by Balkan Diskurs / March 24, 2015Opinions, Transitional JusticeNo Comments

In July 1992, forty-six Bosnian children were evacuated to Italy from the Bjelave Orphanage in Sarajevo; none of them returned.

Written by: Clara Fantoni, intern, PCRC

Marianna, whose name has been changed to protect her identity, was eleven years old when she was evacuated from war-torn Sarajevo and sent to the Igea Marina care home in Rimini. Marianna was part of a group of 45 children evacuated from the Dom Bjelave Orphanage in Sarajevo, formerly known as Ljubica Ivezi?. The children were transported via bus through dangerous terrain and sniper fire to get to the coast. This initiative had been authorized by Bosnian President Alija Izetbegovi? and organized by the General Secretary Duško Tomi? of the Children’s Embassy Medjasi. The 37 youngest children were taken to the Mamma Rita Orphanage in Monza, Milan; the older children were placed at Igea Marina.

It is not clear whether the children were sent with documents, but upon arrival in Italy their legal status was automatically that of “entrusted minors”, meaning they were under the guardianship of the Children’s Embassy Medjasi and later the Italian government. 22 years later, however, Marianna still has no legal Italian identity, even though she is married to an Italian and expecting her first child.

“We kept wondering when we would go back. We asked but nobody told us anything. We were minors at the time. We had no power, ” states Marianna. Both orphanages have declined to comment on the situation at that time. A representative from the Bjelave Orphanage stated: “We have no information about those children. There was a war going on. We do not know if what we say will be taken the wrong way, but that does not mean that we are hiding something.”

In 1995, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Bosnia cooperated with the Ministry of Refugees to organize the return of these children to Bosnia; attempts were made on two separate occasions, but the situation in Sarajevo was still deemed dangerous and the plan was later dropped. That same year, the Director of the Bjelave Orphanage, Amir Zeli?, visited Italy in an attempt to retrieve the children. “He cried crocodile tears but he didn’t do anything,” says Marianna. “A temporary solution became permanent. It makes you sick to think about it but you have to close the door and not ask questions. I hate to talk about it; I’m tired of talking about it. We had the necessities at Igea Marina but, of course, there was a lack of maternal care. I have no contact with my relatives in Bosnia.”

Marianna never returned to Bosnia and spent the rest of her childhood in the Igea Marina care home. “We left the home at eighteen, got jobs and boyfriends and moved away.”

Photo credit: Erin Reasor

Dario Novali?, journalist and owner of START magazine, took it upon himself to investigate the situation. “I wanted to tell the truth; there were so many lies in the press.” Allegations were rife. In the past, the orphanages have been accused of selling children to childless couples and there have been whispers of Muslim children being forcibly converted to Catholicism, though none of these rumours have ever been verified.

“You could say that the children had a better life growing up in Italy than they would have had facing the consequences of war,” says Novali?. “It was alleged that contact and information regarding the children had been lost when, in fact, all it took was a phone call to the ministry of civil affairs to find out information.”

In 2008, Novali? made a short documentary called “If You Are Watching This, Mom.” The film followed the story of five Bosnian children, living in Italy, reflecting upon their nostalgia and the fact that their mother tongue had been forgotten with the passing of the years. “Some of those kids were abandoned at the orphanage, and only after there was publicity did the parents get in contact and start asking for money,” says Novali?.

Yet some of the children did have parents who fought tirelessly over the years to bring their children back. Following the death of his wife, Uzeir Kahvi? placed his daughter Sedina into temporary care at the Bjelave Orphanage at the age of just 40 days old. Kahvi? was an unemployed widower and could not afford to look after his daughter. He visited her every week without fail until war broke out and his home fell behind the frontline, which he was unable to cross. In 1995, when war ended, Kahvi? made his way through a shattered city to find that his daughter had been taken to Italy without his knowledge and was now untraceable.

Between 1997 and 2000, Kahvi? sent five written declarations asking for the return of his daughter, but no action was taken and Sedina was later adopted by an Italian family. Thanks to a transmission of Rai 3’s “Chi l’ha visto”, a TV program that specializes in missing persons, Kahvi? was able to locate the whereabouts of his daughter Sedina. In October 2006, they met for the first time in fourteen years at a train station in Florence.

In 1997, the adoption process of 23 Bosnian children was underway, and in 1998 official Court Orders were sent to relatives in Bosnia. Parents of the children that were undergoing the adoption process in Italy should have given their “informed consent” to Italian courts in order for the adoption to become a legal procedure and not a violation of parental rights. Article 21a of the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC) states that “informed consent” must be given by parents, relatives or legal guardians of children before any adoption process commences. CRC article 9.3 states that parents and relatives of a refugee child should maintain the right to know their whereabouts and should be able to contact them; the whereabouts of the Bosnian children in Italian custody were protected until the age of twenty-five.

In the case of Uzeir Kahvi?, however, the court in Milan claimed that his address was unknown and they were, therefore, unable to reach him. In the case of Dejan Golijan, the court order was sent to his father at an address in a completely different country. Another child, Vedrana Hastor, was unlawfully adopted in Italy due to a technicality that she legally did not exist. This was a result of having not been registered at birth and having no legal documents or JMBG (Unique Master Citizen Number), which is the equivalent of a personal identification number.

When contacted for a comment about the situation, the Italian Embassy in Sarajevo stated: “We have no information. We suggest you contact the orphanage as they are responsible.” The General Consulate of Bosnia and Herzegovina in Milan also stated that they had no information regarding the matter. The adoption agency Primogenita Di Gracanica stated: “Our organization has no information relating to this topic,” despite the fact that their name was mentioned by another adoption agency, Tuzlanska Amica, who said, “No Bosnian children were adopted using our agency, but we know that there were a few with Primogenita.”

With regard to the relocated children, human rights activist Jagoda Savi? commented, “There are no children from Bosnia who were reunited with their families.” Jagoda Savi? was the legal representative of parent Uzeir Kahvi? and aided him in his quest to locate his daughter. “In the end, it was thought not to be in the best interests of the children to return and to have to pass through complicated procedures to recognize their school certificates.”

It is hard to imagine what it must have felt like for a parent to find out that their child had been adopted in a foreign country without their knowledge or consent. It remains unclear whether the fault lies on the Italian or Bosnian side, and those involved are quick to blame the passing of time as an excuse for lack of information. Some families have received compensation settlements, but these are small: in 2005, parents Uzeir Kahvi? and Silvana Osmanovi?-Seferovi? were awarded just 3000 BAM (Bosnian Convertible Marks), the equivalent of 1,500€, by the Bosnian government to compensate for the damage caused to them due to the loss of their children.

It can be argued that these Bosnian children had a better life growing up in Italy, their childhood memories not blighted by the sound of mortar shells and the sight of bloodied streets. Bosnia has a 43.74% unemployment rate and ethnic divisions are still prevalent; at times it feels like the peace is in a fragile state. Who knows what kind of lives they would have had in Bosnia. Many of these children, now adults, consider Italy to be their home, and memories of Bosnia are as hazy as the fog that settles over Sarajevo. Yet the love of a family or a parent is irreplaceable. Were these children deprived of love and nationality or were they saved?