My silent weaver - Zemina Suljanović

I dedicate this book

to my two moms…

I only had two and a half months when the wonderful family Pehlić from Trnovi welcomed me, among their nine children and among many other children they were fostering for months on end. I was the smallest baby that stayed with them. They fed me, sent me to school, gave me all the love.

Not even for a moment did I feel like I wasn‘t their biological child.

To me they are my mom and dad.

To me, their children are my brothers and sisters.

To me, my dad‘s brother is my uncle, and his children my cousins, as well as their children‘s children.

Mom‘s sisters are my aunts, and her brother is my uncle.

My mom Hanka never kept my origin a secret.

She always reminded me that I have a real mom called Ferida and a „wannabe“ mom Hanka.

I visit both of their graves and recite Al-Fatiha for their souls.

Once I wanted to know who my father was. Not now. He is not worth mentioning. He should feel guilty.

Sooner or later he will answer for the inhuman deed he has done.

If the punishment has avoided him in this world, true justice will reach him in the other one.

My childhood and life are a treasure box of memories of dear people who enabled me to be the person I am today.