Part Five
Anita Susuri: So when you were close to finishing your prison sentence, did you know that the end was near…
Martin Çuni: Yes, yes, as soon as the second sentence was over, yes, yes.
Anita Susuri: How were those days when you knew that you were going to be released?
Martin Çuni: Ah yes (smiles). There was another occurrence there just before I was about to leave. So then in the pavilion of economy, the guards spread the word to the felons, “Be mindful, because Albanians are poisoning our women,” you know, where the animals were. Someone told us. I immediately requested that I go back to solitary. Without any further discussions. I became undisciplined, meaning that I didn’t abide by the rules. It was totally forbidden, because we had a kitchen in the garden there, not in the building where we were staying. So, in front of that kitchen there was a small electric stove where the ones who had the farms used to heat their milk, not anyone else. If someone were caught there, they would be sent to solitary.
And then I would go and take it in the middle of the day, they would give us [milk] because we used to give them vegetables. Me and Sherif tended to the vegetables. And I would take milk, I would prepare a stew. They would pretend they didn’t see me, because they thought that before I went home, I wanted to go inside and contact the other prisoners. And in the end, to relax the end of this discussion, the last day I was preparing a stew and somebody had come… because they didn’t release us the exact day we were going to leave. And Sherif was looking for me all around. They came, they called to let them know both of us were going to be released. Me and Sherif Konjufca were released on the same day, the chairman of the Assembly’s father.
Anita Susuri: Mhm {onomatopoeia}, Glauk Konjufca’s [father].
Martin Çuni: Glauk’s [father], yes. He was my colleague, because he was a journalist for the Television [of Pristina]. He was looking for me everywhere and when he found me, I was there making a stew for dinner. “Martin,” he said, “where are you?” He said, “they have released us, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” “Oh,” I said, “damn it! Now we won’t eat our dinner” (laughs). He started yelling, “Are you… how can you even think about dinner right now.”
Anita Susuri: So that was sort of your job there, your activity?
Martin Çuni: Yes, yes, in the garden with the windows, it was covered. There was another interesting occurrence with Sherif, one day he told me, “Martin,” he said, “how did you never get angry, not even once.” I said, “Look Sherif I’m going to tell you something, even if Niš would burn to the ground right now I wouldn’t get mad,” “Forget it, who would get angry if Niš would burn!” (laughs).
Anita Susuri: (laughs) So how did you arrive in Pristina after, were there any…
Martin Çuni: Eh yes, that’s very interesting (smiles). While I was waiting, at that point we knew that as Albanians we had to get the release papers, release papers or what is it called. And we were waiting outside the doors of the executives together with Sherif. A friend came, a lawyer (smiles). I used to work with him a long time ago as a teacher, I mean we were colleagues. When he saw me he gave me a hug {pretends he’s getting a hug}. “What are you doing here?” I said, “They released us,” I said, “but they will leave us waiting here all afternoon, because they won’t give us the release papers. So we will be here until night time.” Meaning that all night we would be just going around Niš.
He said, “Don’t worry,” he said, “I will wait for you until tomorrow, there in front of the doors outside” and he waited for us. He brought us, Ragip Gubetini, he was a good friend. I told him, “Could we go to Niš so I can make a call home, because my mother doesn’t know, they don’t know. I’m scared she will faint.” “Yes sure,” he said, “I am your worker.” What good luck. I made a call home and my wife was so surprised that she didn’t tell anyone. There were some friends there and my mother, but she didn’t tell them. But she told my father and some guests who were hanging out in the garden, without telling the other ones inside. And when I came back, my yard was full of people waiting for me, the whole neighborhood, everyone.
A woman from the neighborhood, because these are… I wrote everything. She was ill, and she found out that I was coming and she told her son, around noon, she said, “Could you bring me the small chair and put it near the window, because I want to see Martin when he comes home.” And she waited for me until the afternoon. After a while her son told her, “Mom, you have to eat something, come,” he said, “I will keep watching and I’ll let you know.” As soon as they switched places, I arrived, and she didn’t get to see me (laughs).
Anita Susuri: I also wanted to ask you about something else… what was it…
Martin Çuni: I didn’t expect prison… I expected that prison would be even more, that it would be even more difficult. But when that doctor said “This man is done for,” you know, he wanted to… he knew the weight of those words very well. They wanted to, not for us to only be done for, but to [go mad] {moves hands near his head}. But they didn’t succeed.
Anita Susuri: It was already ‘90 when you were released.
Martin Çuni: ‘90.
Anita Susuri: Year ‘90.
Martin Çuni: In ‘90 there was an interesting occurrence, that night, that day Rrahman Morina was murdered. And when friends would come by, my friends would say, “Why didn’t you come sooner?” (laughs).
Anita Susuri: While you were in prison, did you have any newspapers for example or could you hear the news about what was going on?
Martin Çuni: For eight years I didn’t have a radio, television, or anything. I was separated from the world for eight years. I didn’t know who the new actors were, or who became what, nothing.
Anita Susuri: So after you found out about everything that happened, because the ‘90s were difficult years. In 89’ the Constitution changed, Kosovo’s autonomy was revoked, and people were fired from their jobs. What were these years like, how did you experience these years?
Martin Çuni: It was nothing surprising for us, we expected all of it, we expected it. When my friends would come [to visit], I would usually learn new information. But you couldn’t get any other information from news devices or anything, no. I had no TV for eight years.
Anita Susuri: So how was it during the ‘90s, I think you mentioned that in ‘91 you went…
Martin Çuni: In the ‘90s. ‘91, in ‘91 I was there from Kosovo, I mean from the Radio Television of that time, I was fired. I was sent to Tirana as a reporter to report on the Assembly of Albania, I was reporting for Radio Zagreb, for around two or three months. Because I had visited Albania a long time ago. I had some friends there, I did. I will tell you an interesting story. Those friends never forgot me, and I didn’t forget them either, from Shkodra, I had some friends from Shkodra. Together with Ali Bali and Gjergj Fishta’s cousin, Toni Fishta, they were working for Radio Shkodra back in the day.
So then when I went there, I thought about visiting them. Rikard Larja told me, “Martin, tell me when you’re planning to go because I also want to join you.” Being from Shkodra himself, he expressed his wish to accompany me. I replied, “Sure, no problem.” Our first stop was Toni’s house, located in the center of Shkodra. Rikard and Toni were close friends,bam bam {onomatopoeia} on the door, the door was open, he went in {acts as if he is opening a door}. At the kitchen door, he opened the kitchen door, and a woman was lying on the couch. She was dressed, not covered [religiously], but dressed.
And he told her, “Please stand up, Martin Çuni has arrived,” and with a sudden movement baff {onomatopoeia}, she stood up. We greeted each other as if we had crossed paths 500 times before. It was a heartwarming moment, and she made coffee for us. “Tonin will be back very soon, he went to the market to get some things and he will come back soon.” As she was preparing the coffee, Tonin came back. When he saw me, he was left speechless. His tears {gesture of touching his eyes} just like rainfall as people say. After some time, he composed himself. He said, “Martin Çuni, I’m grateful that God has sent you. It has been three months since my wife has been able to stand up unassisted, but she stood up from the emotions.”
Now, how many times have they talked about me? How many times… she’s never even seen me. How many times was my name mentioned among friends, acquaintances, or… they told me, “Martin, during those nine years while you were in prison, every time we encountered friends from Pristina, our greeting was simply ‘Martin’” {raises his fist}. Nine years {raises index finger}. Because that’s a psychological phenomena that out of emotions you could, something could happen. His wife stood up.
Anita Susuri: Did you have any contact with them before your imprisonment, I mean not just in ‘72 when you were in Albania, but…
Martin Çuni: After ‘72 I did… I was in contact non-stop with the people I met in ‘72. Ah, it’s good that you brought this up because it reminded me of a case that happened in the military, the military. A friend from Drenica received a magazine titled Shqipëria e Re [Alb.: The New Albania], but in English. The magazine was very comprehensive, with illustrations, incredible. Metush Kolshi was the one [who possessed it]… the soldier. However, he hesitated to keep it in his own drawer, so he entrusted it to me instead, at the Radio Station.
He told me, “Martin, perhaps no one is going to check here,” he said, “keep it.” His friends were well aware of the situation. And I left it there. Unfortunately an officer happened to come across it. So he reported it straight to the lead commander. This officer was a young man from Mitrovica, of Serbian descent, I still remember his surname, Bašačervič, he said, “Martin, you should hide the magazine,” he said, “because someone saw it.” Ralič, he was a ranked officer. And I said to myself, I know what I’m going to do. I realized that hiding it would only worsen the situation. I waited, after some time the commander summoned me for a report, the main commander {raises index finger}. And I went, I knew what it was for.
So he started going in rounds. I was acting as if I was unaware of what happened. He told me, “Did you happen to see a magazine from Albania?” “Uh, yes” I said, “yes, commander.” He asked, “Where did you get that?” “Ohhh,” I said, “I had prepaid for Albanian magazines through Yugoslovenska knjiga [Yugoslav book]. For Arsimi popullor [Alb.:The Folkloric education] pedagogical magazine and for Mësuesi [Alb.: The Teacher].” That was rare back then. I said “I’m subscribed to Albanian magazines,” “What do you mean” he said, “prepaid?” I said, “Through Yugoslovenska knjiga you can order anything you want from all around the world”. “Is that right?” He didn’t know.
Anita Susuri: So this was true?
Martin Çuni: That was true. That was true. I said, “Yes, well, regarding this magazine that I currently have,” I added, “whether they sent it to me by mistake or intentionally” I said, “I don’t know.” Do you understand? (smiles). Oh, yes, my friend [became nervous] when he found out, fearing that I might disclose his name. As if (laughs) that would be so disgraceful. He asked, “Could I take a look at it?” I replied, “Of course, there’s no need to return it as it’s in English,” I said, “I don’t know English at all,” “Oh.” He never called me again. After a month and a half, the commander summoned me once again. I could sense that something was up. He asked, “Çuni, do you know why I called you?” I replied, “I don’t know.” He revealed, “We received a letter in English,” and continued, “from a British soldier.” He then asked, “Could you translate it?” “Oh, I’m truly sorry, commander, but as I mentioned earlier, I don’t know English. I don’t know.”
[The Interview was interrupted here]
Anita Susuri: You are also one of the founders of Radio Kosova e Lirë [Alb.: Radio Free Kosovo], if you could tell us anything about the circumstances which led to the founding of this radio?
Martin Çuni: When I was coming back from Germany, to be honest I didn’t even know that there were opportunities or the required technology for radios. I couldn’t even imagine it. However, I made a deal with Deutsche Wellen to work for them as a reporter, and I started working. Only for a short period of time because as soon as the military headquarters found out, they told Jakup [Krasniqi] and they immediately called me. So I went to the border, in Albania, in Pashrik and… To the Sultan, meaning the Drenica operative zone, and as soon as Jakup found out he called me, the martyr Rasim Kiqina was the one who accompanied me on our way. We went to Vuçak in the middle of the day, do you know where it is? [addresses the interviewer] Near Komoran.
Anita Susuri: Right.
Martin Çuni: Yes. And we went. Jakup told me, “Martin, did you come here as a tourist or…?” (smiles). “Not at all,” I said, “I didn’t come here as a tourist.” He said, “We have the tools for the radio,” he said, “for the radio,” he said “do you think you could?” I was very happy. I was happy, because that’s what I did best, I’ve seen it. Not even one week went by and… my friends did the preparations before. Ahmet Qeriqi, Berat Luzha, and some friends from Krojmir came. The tools had been there since August, so since summer.
He came from Kumanovo, he went through a quite bizarre road trip, here and there around Kosovo until he arrived at Berisha. A lot of people were involved in that job. We tried to do something for the 28th of November but we didn’t have a chance, we couldn’t make it. Because we needed something extra. He helped us, he helped us in many aspects, even some friends from Pristina, I wouldn’t like to mention everyone, some of them I can and some I can’t mention, so it’s better… (laughs)
Anita Susuri: (laughs) None of them.
Martin Çuni: But I have everything in my writings, everything. And we started on January 4.
Anita Susuri: In ‘99?
Martin Çuni: Yes. We tried to do some preparations to present the radio as more professional, and not make it seem like we were going to a wedding or something. And our biggest problem was with the opening theme music, what do you call the opening theme music?
Anita Susuri: The jingle or theme music?
Martin Çuni: Yes. We enjoyed doing it for three days. It looks good even today, if we tried to do it with today’s technical supplies we couldn’t manage to come up with something as good as what we did back then. We did it. Me and the soldiers of the field, meaning that I prepared them to do the technician’s job. However, luck was on our side, as my previous experience working in radio and performing various roles such as technician and journalist made the task relatively easy for me. We did some promotion, there were a lot of military leaders back then, that day in Berisha.
We worked day and night, because we were a small team, a very small team. But we managed, we managed to achieve, we were fortunate because we didn’t have a back-up piece. And working in those conditions there, every day assembling and disassembling the radio. It was truly awe-inspiring when everything functioned flawlessly and we encountered no technical difficulties throughout our entire endeavor. When we came here after two weeks we encountered a problem, because back then they went to Skopje and they found some tools, what do I know. But we were very fortunate while we were staying there because… we were very protective, we were very protective.
Anita Susuri: So during the war you were working as a reporter for Deutsche Velle is that right?
Martin Çuni: During the war, during the war. I was working there during the war and then I started working for our radio, so then I couldn’t manage my time to do both.
Anita Susuri: You stopped it during that time?
Martin Çuni: Yes, yes.
Anita Susuri: And the radio…
Martin Çuni: Although Deutsche Welle paid really well, you know?
Anita Susuri: You mentioned the radio before, that was interrupted during that time when….
Martin Çuni: When they bombed us?
Anita Susuri: Yes, you mentioned that you announced that the radio wasn’t stopped?
Martin Çuni: Yes, yes.
Anita Susuri: I’m interested to know, did it continue after that?
Martin Çuni: Yes, yes, yes, because we really stopped it there. Then my colleagues said to not air the program that day. Until we built a bunker, because it was time, it reached that point where it was impossible to continue working without having a bunker. I told them, “We can’t just not air the program.” So we aired the program. The last piece of information transmitted through that program was, “Dear listeners, due to tactical reasons, we won’t be able to broadcast the program for a few days.” Eh, if the radio was destroyed we wouldn’t be able to give that information right? The listeners were aware that we wouldn’t be able to air the program the next day. Because Serbs announced that Radio Kosova e Lirë [Alb.: Radio Free Kosovo] was destroyed, and the listeners were also informed that we would be airing the program again after a few days. And that’s what happened (smiles). That was a, that was a great blow for the Serbs, yes.
Anita Susuri: You also mentioned that you encountered various incidents during the war…
Martin Çuni: Yes, quite a few.
Anita Susuri: And you survived…
Martin Çuni: Yes, yes, yes. I mentioned that case with the radio, yes. For example… because I was going out in the field [as a journalist] a lot, I went out in the field quite often. Sometimes when I went out in Drenica, it would take me a week to feel like my normal self again . Always on foot and the terrains were difficult, they weren’t normal roads. On one occasion, in Qyqavica, I had to go to the front lines and they told me “You can’t pass by in daytime, you can’t because there are Serbs in that area,” our people were down in the valley. I told them, “No, I have no other choice but to pass there, and I don’t have any more time to waste.” “Alright then, your responsibility.” I went down there and nothing happened, I stayed there for two or three hours, I’m not sure how long and then I came back again. I did what I had to do, I finished my work, some interviews, some information. I was making my way up the valley and I saw a soldier coming down.
Anita Susuri: Albanian?
Martin Çuni: Yes, one of our soldiers.
Anita Susuri: Ah.
Martin Çuni: One of our soldiers. Because that side was ours, {describes with hands} the Serbian slope was on the other side. And I said to myself, why not interview this soldier. I put out my audio tape recorder and {acts as if he was placing the microphone closer} and I started making conversation. At that moment we heard some snipers in the back bam{onomatopoeia} firing near us, the bullets were dum-dum which are prohibited by international norms. It fired near us, but it didn’t hit us. The soldier was young, “Zig-zag to the mountains {gestures with a zig-zag motion using his finger}, running as much as we could.”
I didn’t have any time to turn off my audio tape recorder while we were running up bum {onomatopoeia} here, bum there no one could manage to strike us, because we were in motion and it was more difficult. However, we stopped and they didn’t hit us, that’s a phenomenon. And when we arrived there in the mountain, I told that soldier, “Ah,” I said, “those idiots were soldiers, they had weak aim and couldn’t hit us” (laughs).
Anita Susuri: (laughs) So, where were you when you found out that war was over, how did you process this news?
Martin Çuni: It was a great surprise, we didn’t expect it to end so fast, it wasn’t expected so fast, because without the arrival of the ground troops, there’s nothing to it. So when this turn of events unfolded, it was truly a monumental moment. Upon my return to Pristina, I found my house destroyed to the ground. Not completely fallen, but all the valuable possessions had been looted. But what I feared the most was that my books would be taken or burned. They took everything, but they didn’t take my wife’s traditional attire and they didn’t take the books. Nobody even touched the books.
Anita Susuri: Where was your family during the war?
Martin Çuni: During the war, they remained here, but when all the Albanians were displaced, they were displaced too.
Anita Susuri: I’m guessing they went to Macedonia?
Martin Çuni: Yes, yes.
Anita Susuri: I want to talk a bit about your family and go back to the time period when you were in prison, what was your family’s situation like? For example the financial situation but also how did they receive the…
Martin Çuni: Not good. I’ll tell you why it wasn’t good, not only do I not have any brothers, but I don’t have any [paternal] uncles either. But my friends, my family, my broad circle, they always tried, they tried. However, initially people were hesitant to openly offer help. It was a rare occurrence for someone to dare. My wife once confided in me, sharing how she longed for a simple conversation with anyone during those early days. People were afraid to come forward. There was an occasion when a beggar, a young Roma girl. She came to our house seeking alms, she said, “I took her to the garden just to make conversation, to talk to her.” My mother struggled a lot, especially while I was in prison, because, because my mother had to carry things on her back for nine years {touches his shoulder}.
Anita Susuri: Did they come to visit you often?
Martin Çuni: No, they couldn’t visit me often because they didn’t have the chance. However, they came to Prokuplje, they were also in Niš, but not so often, no, not so often. I didn’t want them to visit me very often, and they also couldn’t, they couldn’t. For eight years they didn’t let me see my children, they didn’t sit on my lap for nine years, they didn’t allow me to… no.
Anita Susuri: Did you see them, did they visit you?
Martin Çuni: Yes, they came to visit me, they did. Very rarely, but they did.
Anita Susuri: I think you have two sons…
Martin Çuni: Two sons and one daughter.
Anita Susuri: And a daughter.
Martin Çuni: Yes.
Anita Susuri: You had all three children back at that time?
Martin Çuni: No, no. I had one of them later, in my old years (laughs).
Anita Susuri: Your daughter perhaps, or your son?
Martin Çuni: My son, my son. When I was imprisoned, I left my daughter when she was just eight months old, my son was two and a half.
Anita Susuri: Have there been any instances where maybe they couldn’t recognize you in prison?
Martin Çuni: Nope, no, no. It didn’t happen because they were talked to about me a lot, they had my pictures and… There was this one time when they came to visit me in Niš, my son was a bit older than my daughter, and my daughter goes… because when they would receive letters, my wife got more than them, you know. My daughter expressed her concern, saying, “Dad, it seems like you love Mom more than us because you write to her more often,” you know. I said “No,” I said, “you are my children, she is…” And my son said, “Pay her no mind because she’s dumb, she asks stupid questions” (smiles). That’s what he said (laughs).
Anita Susuri: So, you mentioned that after the war you were an acting director at RTK.
Martin Çuni: Yes, named by the government, yes.
Anita Susuri: How did that go?
Martin Çuni: For me it was something very troublesome because… it was very unexpected. But with all I could, I accepted what I didn’t have. I didn’t accept the loss of even one centimeter of the Radio Television’s wealth, nor the loss of any workers. And then if we didn’t need them we would let them go. But, that didn’t happen. But we… I mean, initially at the television, at the radio and television we forcibly entered, because they were still there after the war, they were there. But fortunately, that passed by well. But when we entered the Radio, they expected us with AK47s, inside they had AK47s.
Anita Susuri: When did you come to Pristina? What was the date?
Martin Çuni: Immediately after the announcement. Yes, I came to Pristina a few days after the announcement.
Anita Susuri: Was it dangerous then, immediately after?
Martin Çuni: Yes it was, it was. So, now you can imagine they were there and… but we passed. But then we had to find the employees, most of them were not here. We had to go to Ferizaj, then to several other places, to find the people, to form a team.
Anita Susuri: How did work progress after that?
Martin Çuni: Well listen, when I saw that our demands were simply overlooked, they were overlooked. I couldn’t bring myself to simply give in and submit, I just couldn’t. And I took the initiative to gather all the workers from the Radio Television at the Red Hall, located in the Palace of Youth. In addition, I extended an invitation to Dan Evers, who served as the executive of OSCE at that time, or something of the sort. We held a meeting, not necessarily in complete privacy, but within a close circle of trusted individuals.
Anita Susuri: The collective…
Martin Çuni: No, no, it wasn’t solely with the close collective, but rather with the leaders of that time. However, it involved some of them. There was also the executive, a Serbian woman from Radio Paris, who attended the meeting. Dan Evers’ advisers were also present, seeking information and they were interested in hearing my perspective on various matters. I shared everything with them openly. After I shared everything openly, the Serbian woman from Radio Paris joined another meeting that was exclusively held only with the workers. I am recounting the experience of this woman. Dan Evers left the meeting, and then she couldn’t hold back her tears. She said, “How” she said “could you not say anything positive?” I responded, “Miss, please tell me, what positive words could I have possibly said?” {raises hands in confusion}. Unfortunately, some others could have been more reserved, keeping their thoughts to themselves. Sharing everything openly is not necessarily beneficial. I, on the other hand, couldn’t just hold back. Even though I comprehend the weight of it all, I still believe that leaving the situation was the right decision. I walked out the same way I entered.
Anita Susuri: You left the…
Martin Çuni: Yes, yes.
Anita Susuri: So what were the demands that weren’t approved?
Martin Çuni: None of our demands were approved. None of the demands from Albanians.
Anita Susuri: What were the demands for example?
Martin Çuni: The return of our wealth, as they appropriated all of it. Returning our wealth, and the reinstatement of our employees. These two were the most fundamental demands.
Anita Susuri: They didn’t reinstate the employees?
Martin Çuni: No, no.
Anita Susuri: So after this, following your departure from RTK, what did you pursue after your radio career?
Martin Çuni: So, then I continued, before the war there was political activism but it was about national politics not, not for specific parties. However, post-war, my focus shifted towards cultural activities rather than political engagement. I was never fond of politics, I have always strived to avoid getting imprisoned due to political affiliations, but… {shrugs}. I never aligned myself with any political parties… because the term “parties” inherently implies divisions. I never wanted to be merely a fragment of my homeland, I aspired to embody the entirety of my homeland. Why settle for being just a part of it? I hope I’m conveying my thoughts clearly, do you understand what I mean?
Anita Susuri: Yes, yes.
Martin Çuni: Because parties in French means parts. Parts.
Anita Susuri: After that you were engaged with an organization, is that correct?
Martin Çuni: Yes, with some of my friends, some of my writing friends, we founded the Association of Albanian Writers and Creators in Germany, which was fairly successful, fairly successful. It was all self-financed, all self-financed. We didn’t receive anything from anyone. But the gatherings we held back then, they were mostly with writers, mainly writers. They weren’t dozens [in number], but they were hundreds. And then what’s really important to me is that there were sister organizations of this sort founded in other countries in Europe. And the writers found themselves. Almost all countries in Europe had an association like that. But we also met. Many works were promoted, many of them, great works, many works were promoted.
Anita Susuri: Those works belonged to the members?
Martin Çuni: Of the members, of the members.
Anita Susuri: I would like to ask you one final question, how did you personally experience Independence Day, and what emotions did it evoke within you?
Martin Çuni: I was on an airplane on my way to the United States (laughs). And I wrote a poem.
Anita Susuri: (laughs) Yes because it was quite unexpected, we didn’t know the exact date.
Martin Çuni: Yes, yes.
Anita Susuri: So how did you experience it?
Martin Çuni: Very good, very good of course.
Anita Susuri: Did you think it was going to happen sooner or later?
Martin Çuni: No, I had actually anticipated Independence Day to occur earlier. It seemed a bit delayed, arriving later than expected. During a meeting with a German politician, who was a representative of Europe and was involved in talks between Belgrade, with Milošević, a certain revelation was made. However, the politician expressed it discreetly, avoiding explicit mention of names. After the war concluded and Serbia was compelled to retreat, there was a meeting in Belgrade to approve the subsequent separation. But this meeting occurred much later, as several years had passed before the topic of independence was addressed. Interestingly, when the time finally came to discuss independence, the leader of Belgrade was questioned, “Why didn’t you do it immediately?” And the leader responded, “If we had done it immediately, it would seem as though Kosovo was lost under Milošević. So now it signifies that we lost Kosovo, not Milošević” (smiles). Honestly, it was a significant delay, happening much later than it should have. It is true that it occurred at a considerably late stage.
Anita Susuri: Mr. Martin, would you like to share any additional thoughts? Would you like to to share something that hasn’t been covered in my questions thus far or anything worth mentioning?
Martin Çuni: It is often said that talking is easy, but when it comes to work it’s quite difficult. I did what I could, as people say, I tried to do whatever I could, I didn’t spare myself. Not at all, and if I did something bad to somebody, I only did it to myself and my wife. And if I owe something to somebody, I only owe it to her, not even to myself, may it be a blessing. But I owe it to my wife, I dedicated a piece to her recently, which are the letters I sent to my wife from prison and I titled it Mrikë, jeta ime [Alb.: Mrika, my life].
Anita Susuri: That’s her name?
Martin Çuni: Yes, my wife’s name. Those are letters that are dedicated to her only. And only Albanian women do things like that. I mentioned before that the wife of that Serbian prisoner there told him “Bye-bye!” (smiles). Yes, that’s right.
Anita Susuri: Thank you so much for the interview…
Martin Çuni: Please, please.
Anita Susuri: … and for your time.
Martin Çuni: Because attempting to recount everything would be impossible, as it would require a lot of time and volumes of books. I’m not certain if I could ever fully articulate the entirety of my experiences (laughs).
Anita Susuri: That’s right. Thanks a lot once more!