Amara Stupac, Cernica, Bosnia & Herzegovina
Anybody There?
Author: Amara Stupac
Flickering on and off, the streetlight show has long been dimmed through a spider’s web. Fortunately, I’m familiar with every crevice in the alley, so stumbling in the dark is a rare occurrence. Yet, the darkness serves as a tempting magnet for thieves. However, my thoughts of escape also include solace, as the darkness will complicate their getaway, preventing them from navigating the labyrinthine alley after committing a crime. As the days unfold, darkness refuses to become a mundane routine, prompting a call to action – “I must make my way to the local community office!”
In the periods of both war and post-war recovery, the Cernica local community office played a pivotal role as the primary administrative entity. Here, residents actively exercised their rights, reporting official dissatisfactions and public area malfunctions for the greater good.
Nestled within the neighborhood known as Bulevar and strategically positioned adjacent to the atomic shelter, this locale, surrounded by the protective embrace of the “white buildings,” was purposefully chosen. During the tumultuous times of war, these buildings, specifically their basements, naturally evolved into a refuge from external horrors, providing a haven at this community office. However, each time I approach the entrance, a unique sensation pervades me – “either they have departed or not yet arrived.” Initially, I check the door’s lock and then I cast a glance at the clock: “it is supposed to be open.” As a true resident of Mostar, I peer through the glass doors, encountering an expanse of vacant office furniture and an empty shelf for documents; a community office without documents. Stepping back from the glass, my attention is drawn to a struggling houseplant, a palm, positioned in front of a bottle of mineral water; perhaps awaiting refreshment? Advancing to the second window, sheltered by a café-style fence, I find a meticulously arranged table and chair from the waiting area alongside an electric thermal storage heater, presumably turned off, indicated by the presence of a lamp shade sitting on top of it.
In a state of bewilderment, I find myself standing in front of the local community office without any paperwork until a casual passerby directs me to the city administration office. The fact that this office caters to a vast population, leading to crowds and wait times for any type of registration or administrative document, underscores the complexities of city management.
I decide to test my patience by standing near the entrance doors, right at the end of the line. Adding a touch of sarcasm, I remark, “Fortunately, it’s not scorching at 45°C in the shade outside.” It soon dawns on me that waiting demands more than just patience; it necessitates the precious free time I currently lack. Consequently, I opt to directly contact the power company, something I believe the local community office should have done, and report the outage. The efficiency of the power company becomes evident as the repair is swiftly completed, allowing for an evening selfie without the flash needed just a few days later.
If our local community office in Cernica were still operational, catering to the needs of its residents who are currently finding support in the self-organization of citizens’ associations for infrastructure improvements, we could navigate towards guidance, solutions, and administrative completion more seamlessly and effectively.