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A Journey of Immigration and Education from Bosnia to Chicago

Naida* remembers as a child reading a textbook her mother copiously hand duplicated word for word by candlelight in the refuge of a basement in Bosnia. The walls surrounding her shook as Serbian soldiers overhead ignited grenades.

Nadia, now 21, is a University of Illinois at Chicago student studying psychology. Her experiences in Bosnia and beyond have shaped her in ways many students her age could not imagine.

“When the soldiers came, we went into my friend’s basement,” she said.  “I remember hearing a bunch of shots. My mom took my hand and said, ‘if someone approaches you just pretend you are really scared. Do not say a word.’ This is how my mom passed us off as the other side.”

She was born in 1988 and grew up in Velika Kladusa, a town in Bosnia by Croatia, only a few years before the Serbian and Bosnian war broke out in 1991.

According to her, the Serbian government’s goal was to keep Yugoslavia together in one country. However, the individual countries wanted out. Slovenia was the first country to declare independence followed by Croatia. Serbia, Kosovo, and Bosnia were the only countries left.

“Serbia was already mad that these countries broke off,” she said. “It is really hard to distinguish who is Serbian, Croatian, or Bosnian because we lived in one country. The only way they could differentiate between the three was through religion. If you were Catholic you were considered Croatian, or if you were Orthodox Christian you were Serbian. If you were Muslim you were Bosnian.”

Tensions only escalated, however, when Bosnia attempted its break from Serbia.

“Serbia said, ‘If they don’t want to be with us why don’t we just wipe them all out’,” she said. “That’s when they did a whole genocide against Muslims and Catholics.”

Velika Kladusa went untouched while the war intensified, but residents knew it would not be long before troops made their way in.

“We knew Serbia was going to come in and kill us,” she said. “Our leader said, ‘Don’t touch my people, we’re going to help you in return.’ My town was known for betraying its own country because of that.”

This deal stated people from Velika Kladusa would join the Serbian forces and fight against Bosnia, and in return Serbia would not touch them.

When the larger war with Serbia ended, the rest of Bosnia declared a mini-war on her home town, and this is when her war experience truly began.

At the age of five, she remembers staying at a friend’s house where they heard troops were approaching to attack the city.

“There was a whole fleet of people running toward Croatia,” she said. “I remember holding onto my mom’s hand while all around us were grenades and gun fire.”

While running toward the refugee camp, she saw a man on a white horse who was shot through the chest and collapsed onto the ground.

“I was five at the time,” Nadia said. “I didn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend the danger of it.”

She and her mother, Mina, arrived safely to the refugee camp, which she described as a row of chicken coops, and stayed there while her father, Esad, and uncle, Asko, fought in the war. The conditions in the camp were unsanitary and overcrowded.

“All these people were piled in there,” she said. “There was a forest where everyone used the bathroom, and when you changed someone had to hold a blanket in front of you.”

After four months, the refugees heard Velika Kladusa was safe, so Naida Okanovic and her mother went back to their unrecognizable neighborhood.

“Houses were blown up, windows were shattered, and gunshot holes were in every building,” she said. “It was a complete disaster.”

They were far from safe, however, because the troops came back to Velika Kladusa. She said the town started running toward Croatia again, but her mother stopped at the border and told her she was not going to run away from home any more. Her mother Mina was able to pass them off to soldiers as the other side by bluffing names.

“Could you imagine that,” Naida said. “A woman in a country where women are seen as powerless taking her daughter and walking through a burning town. That’s when I saw who my mom truly was.”

Mina said this was one of the scariest moments of her life.

“Sometimes you have to do certain things no matter how scary they are in order to survive,” she said. “I kept thinking I needed to keep a brave face on.”

Asko on the other hand, who stayed at the refugee camp, was given a visa to come to America and eventually sent application papers to the family.

They came to America in June 1996 and stayed near Kenmore and Thorndale on Chicago’s North Side.  They received food stamps and welfare for the first three months and were also enrolled in English speaking classes.

“It was hard [moving] because Bosnia was all I ever knew,” Esad said. “I had to leave behind the soil of my ancestors to come to a different country where I would forever be a foreigner.”

The most memorable part of immigrating for Naida was when she started school, which would foreshadow her future academic successes.

“I didn’t know a word of English,” she said. “On the first day the teacher handed out a worksheet with math problems. Because I was forced to be ahead by my mom because she wasn’t sure when schools would be open, I was the first to finish and to get a 100 percent. That’s how I fell in love with math.”

When she was in fourth grade she met her current best friend Amanda Pilipovic, 21, a student at Northeastern Illinois University, who previously lived 10 minutes outside Velika Kladusa.

“If we stayed in Bosnia we would have gone to the same high school,” Pilipovic said. “She came here before me, so she knew English better, and she would help me out.”

For many Bosnian families, education was a big factor for moving to America Pilipovic said.

“My parents are all about school,” Pilipovic said. “If you don’t finish school you’re going to work at McDonalds. That’s what I hear every day. It’s a guilt thing. We came all this way just for you, so don’t let us down.”

* Nadia’s family name has been omitted from the story at her request.

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