3 minutes agoThe bloody mother for the missing son: We're not gonna die before we bury him.
Periskopi(7 years ago)
(7 years ago)Nysrete Kumnova, by writing, has confessed to the horror she's been living for 20 years since Serb criminals kidnapped her son, Albion. Kumnova has said they are disappointed by the national and international factor that they are not engaging more and more decisively. “Justice must [...]
Kumnova has said they are disappointed by the national and international factor that they are not engaging more and more decisively.
“Justice must fall to place, and at last, Albion's open grave is waiting for my son to rest in the land of Kosovo for which he gave his life. The pain is great and is increasing, when we wake up every morning in hopes that Albion will be found, and when the day falls, even hopes and wounded souls must be held as the rock of the endless wait!”, she wrote among others.
Her complete scripture:
Twenty years of waiting, anxiety, hope, and frustration today occur since March 31st 1999, when Serb criminals were kidnapped in our home, our son Albion Kumnova (1977), the groom, Gezim Deva (1970), Albion's teszac, Artan Efendiya (1976), neighbor Lut Bunjaku (1952), and his son Bekim Bulnjaku (1983), then with their neighbor Shkel Bishini (1966).
My family and I are disappointed by the national and international factor that they are not engaging more and more decisively, because from the group when the men were kidnapped in our family, all the other bodies were found, identified and buried, and only the body of our son Albion could not be found or identified.
That's one more reason to suspect that Serbian criminals are using my son Albion's body as my revenge method and my activity in the “Mothers' calls”!
Justice should fall to the ground, and at last, Albion's open grave is waiting for my son to rest in the land of Kosovo for which he gave up his life.
The pain is great and is increasing, when each morning we wake up in hope that Albion will be found, and when the day falls, hope and wounded soul must be held as a rock - mass of the endless wait!
Our son Albion, our mother and father will not die before we bury with our own hands, water the earth with our tears, and adorn the grave with the best flowers of spring, that your spring may flourish also, after our spring was extinguished here and twenty years ago! Albion, our son, remember with unabated longings, Mother, Bea, and sisters, Flanza, Vjollca, and Arjeta, along with their families!
