But in 1992 when the war started, everything changed.
My family and I lived together in a small, old house in a town called Višegrad. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we were happy. My husband worked as a police officer, I was a housewife and together we had a son and a daughter. We had a lot of friends and lived in a friendly neighbourhood where almost every day we chatted to our neighbours.
Then suddenly there is gunfire every day, seeing people killed just because of their name or beliefs. You live in fear constantly. It became more and more difficult to stay. Then my husband and son were captured and almost everybody fled the area. I feared for my life and that of my daughter, so I decided to flee. First, we fled through Bosnia-Herzegovina from city to city, then to Croatia and then after a few months I came to the Netherlands with my daughter thanks to the help of the Red Cross.
There I couldn’t find a regular job because I didn’t speak Dutch well enough. However, I wanted to do something useful and through social services, I came into contact with Mission Without Borders where I began working as a volunteer.
Being able to contribute to the wellbeing of people in poverty is the most beautiful thing about this work and I am so thankful to be a part of it.
Bekha, a volunteer in the Netherlands sorting donated clothes, for over 16 years. Her husband and son unfortunately did not survive the war.
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