The lady next door in Prijedor
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Before the war, I had a rather good life. I was 40 years old, working in Prijedor Municipal Court as a judge. My career was rising; I had everything to hope for. My parents had passed away, but I had my family. I had a normal, happy life. Unfortunately, most of us are unaware of our blessings while we have them. It took war and all those terrible things that happened for me to realise how great a life I had before the war. I went in to work and Bosnian Serb soldiers were waiting for me holding a list of names.
They told me that I was no longer employed at the court. I thought that this was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. Later, I realised that was only an introduction to the worst thing that could happen to a human being. Several weeks later, on 9 June , I was told to come to the police station for questioning. Instead I was taken by Serb forces to Omarska concentration camp. The camp was almost all male, but there were 37 women.
We were kept in the interrogation rooms. During the day the guards would use the rooms to beat and torture prisoners, so we would have to wash blood and hair from everywhere—walls, furniture, floor—before we could sleep.
In Omarska I saw and experienced horrific things: tortures, murders, rapes. Things that one cannot even imagine human beings are capable of doing.