I’m not writing to you about me anymore. i’m writing to you about war, death, injuries, shells, sadness and sorrow. almost all my friends have left. even if they were here, who knows whether we’d be able to see one another. the phones aren’t working, we couldn’t even talk to one another. vanja and andrej have gone to join srdjan in dubrovnik. the war has stopped over there. they’re lucky. i was so unhappy because of that war in dubrovnik. i never dreamed it would move to sarajevo. what conflict is zlata filipovic writing about?
the holocaust
the nigerian civil war
the bosnian war
the rwandan civil war