We will never know what dreams of injustice reparation and nightmares of the erasure Aco Todorović dreamt. Nevertheless, we could be sure that we have here yet another death casualty of the erasure. This, however, is not an anonymous death. It is a screaming statement to the public in Slovenia, which speaks that putting head in the sand while crimes and violations of human rights of a minority take place, or even giving support to it, opens the door not only to suffering of that minority group, but also to the human rights violations of the majority. Continue reading →

The Peace Institute wishes to pay tribute to Aleksandar Todorović, tireless fighter for the rights of the erased, with the book of condolence published on the website “The Erased: Information and documents”. Continue reading →

When writing a biography, you usually include both good and bad stories, true or a little less true. I will try to tell my story in this few pages. I was born in 1961 in a small town in Macedonia. … Continue reading →

When I got to municipality, they destroyed my ID card (issued in Maribor) and tossed it in the trash! When I asked why they did that, they told me that I should be happy they did not call the police and that I was even lucky to be in this state. They did not tell me that I have to arrange my status of a foreigner, and that I need a working permit in order to work. Because they were so unfriendly, I left and did not ask them any questions. Continue reading →

For half of a year I could not get a visa for Slovenia, because the Slovenian Embassy in Sarajevo required a letter of guarantee from a Slovenian citizen who is employed. Later I got it from a friend from Slovenia. I had to be in Bosnia for 6 months, separated from my children. Continue reading →

Only the erased and our families really know what we have been through. I know they are cases much worse than mine, some families broke up because of this. Some of them had not seen each other for years. Did anybody ask themselves how did these people feel? Until I got the citizenship, I had not been anywhere out of Slovenia. I had not seen my parents, brothers and sisters for four and a half years. My child met them when he was five years old. Is this humane? Continue reading →

Apparently, I had been erased on 26 February 1992 and didn’t know it until 1994 when I wanted to transfer ownership of a car. Luckily, I hadn’t crossedthe border during this time since in this case I wouldn’t have been able to come back. I still had the old Yugoslavian passport. Since 1994 we have traveled to Banja Luka twice over Hungary. My wife and children had Slovene passports and I still had my old Yugoslavian. Luckily, they didn’t control our passports and we didn’t get into trouble. Continue reading →

In 1993, the police came into our apartment and told us to hand them all documents. We gave them our five Yugoslavian passports, but were allowed to keep our border passes. My husband was taken to a police station and given a notice stating our passports had been seized. He was told that we needed the notice to arrange Bosnian passports at the Embassy of Bosnia and Herzegovina in Ljubljana. We didn’t know we have been erased up until the day the police appeared. Continue reading →

The worst memories I have from that period were the visits to Mačkova Street. You went there to try to find out what you could and should do to remedy the situation… Those visits were the worst nightmare a person can imagine. They were definitely the worst moments of my life. Continue reading →

When my ID card expired, I went to the municipality to extend its validity, but the clerk punctured the card and told me to arrange the documents for foreigners. That was in the beginning of the 1990′s when the political situation was still tense. When I asked the clerk what I needed to gain the citizenship, she yelled at me and berated me, saying that Yugoslavia fell apart because of people like me. Continue reading →

I was like a homeless person: without a home, without a family, which didn’t want me because I didn’t have papers, without anything. Naturally, I didn’t steal, I didn’t want to. But I humbled myself so much that I asked a man for a piece of bread. Since I was considered a foreigner, I didn’t have the right to social assistance. I didn’t receive help from the Red Cross or Karitas either – if I had been a refugee, I’d have been entitled according to their criteria, but since I was not, I didn’t belong there. Continue reading →

The clerk asked for my personal document. When I gave her my ID card, she took it, punched it and instructed me to go to the office for foreigners. When I wanted to get the certificate and didn’t get it, I knew that something was seriously wrong. But it wasn’t clear to me what was wrong; they only told me: “You aren’t here.” “How come, if I’m here?!” Continue reading →

This story describes only the tip of the iceberg. How much uncertainty there was, how many nights without sleep, tears, and suffering because of the lack of money, when I and my son ate only spaghetti, alone in this world, without a roof over our heads, without money, without insurance and without dignity. For 12 years. Continue reading →

The clerk first tried to convince me that it was me who unregistered from there. I know very well that I didn’t, so I insisted that she check it. She then pulled out my file where next to my name there was added “foreigner” in pencil. Then this clerk dressed me down and insinuated that I had come back only for the compensation. Continue reading →

They would go but I stayed in Slovenia, ten or eleven years. Like every child, I missed the seaside, my grandma. My grandma in Bosnia, where we used to go for holidays before that, was very old, and I only wanted her to live, not to die, so that I could see her once again. My grandpa died in 1994, but I couldn’t go to the funeral – it was very hard for me. We were locked in this country. I felt literally like a prisoner. I couldn’t go anywhere – it was such a strange feeling. Continue reading →

I gave him the red passport, and his evil eyes stared at me: “This is no longer valid!” He punched my passport. I then asked him, “Can I now get the certificate?” “Be off with you, it’s the police that you can get!” was what I could hear as I was leaving. I found myself in the street with my punched passport. Where now? I couldn’t leave the country without documents. To say that this feeling is horrible is way too mild! Continue reading →