Why would you come in today if you were killed?

On the first anniversary of the massacre of Abria and the fall of several martyrs, including my father, had arrived then, the head of The PDK, Hashim Thaci. We were asked as a family of witnesses to take our word. My sister's speech had been prepared by the organizers of the speculator. My sister, she picks up that letter, but when she goes out in the bina, she reads her speech, not that order.

It was just a couple of years from the war I remember.

Over 17 years from that event, I have now understood why they have asked for something else to be read in the memo.

Look, when you stay with coffee company and you get hit with the subject of war, we all show our experiences. When it comes to telling you about Dad, first I tell you he was a soldier. But I saw God. He was like this. So I have to swear to you (because if you don't believe me) that wasn't one of these today. I do this so I don't get embarrassed, first.

Last week, I visited my father's grave with my daughter. She played around the cemetery and I thought how she would invent a different story about her grandfather. When my daughter grows up (in this Kosovo what she is), I would invent a more fabulous story about why her grandfather was killed. Because we have lost sense of war, of freedom. After all, I don't want to tell my daughter: look... my grandfather was killed but we couldn't build a better Kosovo. You'll have nowhere to go (or you'll get a bad education). You'll have nowhere to heal.

When you ask for a chair at Pristina University, without knowing, but only because someone was killed in the war... that shames you.

When you want to have your aunt on the veterans' list because she saw some grenades falling next to her in the war... that shames you.

When you read that veterans' status was sold and prostitution by veterans... that shames you.

The monopoly on war that I have pictures of Adam Yasar, I have videos that testify to my participation in war, I have friends who have been killed... this shame.

Here, the impression is that some people and families owe extra taxes to their existence. The tax on the existence of His Majesty, Mr. Hashim Thaci, for example.

Don't worry. You should be proud of your parents.

These are the words we receive every anniversary from politicians as a family of witnesses.

But I'm getting bored. Actually, I'm beginning to be ashamed.