By Ahmet Xhavit Delvina

I do not intend to go into the biography of our family, but I want to describe only some aspects of the life of my father, Neki Delvina, who sacrificed himself like many of his friends, for the so-called "Motherland" and who unjustly took his life. He was born and raised in Istanbul in the "Gallata Saraj" neighborhood and as a result, his family enjoyed Turkish citizenship from an early age. He graduated with a Doctor of Laws from the Istanbul Faculty of Law. In 1913-1914, after completing his post-graduate studies according to all the administrative rules of the Turkish government, he was appointed a judge in the Turkish city of Kars, but he never started working there, after he responded to the call made by his uncle, Fejzi Bey Alizoti, who had also raised him, because his father Sherif Bey had left him when he was young after he had passed away. The call was to come to Albania, because the needs for him or his profession were great, as the new Albanian state had just been created and Fejzi Bey held the position of Secretary General of State.

But it was precisely after this that the tragedy for the two families began, by the communist government of that time, both for those two unfortunate people and for us. The events that followed did not flow according to the correct human logic, but flowed according to the communist policy of terror. They were no longer allowed to return to Italy, completely illegally, on the pretext that the political situation had already changed.

Our mother helped them by going to her cousin, at that time Minister of Health, Dr. Ymer Dishnica, to hire Dragush as a doctor. He immediately appointed him a military doctor in the Gjirokastra Division, so they too became unfortunate citizens of the “New Albania” like the rest of us. The way Dragush and my father had proceeded was very “wrong”, in the new situation we were living in, the customary way and rule of honorably settling these mutual financial obligations no longer applied.

Even today we do not understand what bothered those highly educated people, with a level of honesty and trust of high values ​​and who were ready to sacrifice for each other at any time, because they were also connected by blood, to compile such bureaucratic and "ordinary" documents, which were in the practice of ordinary people and for ordinary work. Why? Why? Father should get a receipt from Dragush where he should write the actual action, that he had handed over to him the entire amount of gold that Hiqmet Bey had given to our father at the time of the escape, even the receipt also wrote the characteristics of this amount, which consisted of French napoleons called by the people "Rooster". Why all this documented procedure? Why?!

It seems to me that they had done it just to get in their own way. Where did our father want to justify himself with it?! Not to mention who would ask for it. This fatal act for that bad time we lived in, had put both of them in an extremely dangerous and difficult situation at the same time, both for the one who kept this amount of gold with him wherever he went, and for the father who fanatically guarded that "cursed" delivery document!

The ordinary origin of Enver Hoxha's family, without tradition in culture, behavior or wealth, had transmitted to him as a genetic inheritance, in addition to his well-known "perverse" moral vices, also a greedy desire (as the people of Gjirokastër say) to get rich in the shortest and fastest time possible, accompanied by a thirst for revenge against the classes of society that stood above him and his family, Hoxha.

Families such as the Selfs, the Omars, the Kokalars, etc., who enjoyed privileges over the Hoxha, were the first to be subjected to Enver Hoxha's genocide. His constant desire to extort their wealth and then their lives when he felt the supremacy of these families or special individuals, accompanied this "Monster" throughout his life! He showed "special concern", especially with his friends who had grown up together, but who unfortunately had noble, commercial or intellectual origins. He not only carried out this unprecedented genocide by "eating" their heads, but also robbed them of every kind of wealth that they had earned with sweat over the years. Our father, who was supposed to have loved and respected him, was not exempted from this crime campaign either.

As I said above, he knew that we had this money, and on the way voluntary surrender could not get it from us, so he ordered another way of “extortion”. We had handed the money over to Dragush for over a year and each side continued their lives normally, Dragush in Gjirokastra and us in Tirana. The problem of the florins was already a thing of the past and had almost been forgotten by both sides, even when we happened to see each other, it was no longer even part of the occasional conversation, because that problem had already been overcome.
In 1947, our family continued to live in the four white apartments of the Italians.

It was a typical September day of that cursed year, my mother and father were getting ready to go on a typical courtesy visit, at these moments like all women, our mother was getting ready in front of a mirror that was used for these purposes in the waiting room, or as we called it in the waiting room, which was one of the first rooms after the main door of the apartment, she was putting some jewelry that she had just taken out of their special box for these. This box, due to the considerable value of the jewelry that it kept inside, when she finished work, she would return it to her father, who would put it in his special suitcase, a type of safe, which he alone managed and this was a permanent practice.

But they were late for their appointment and a friend who had come to pick them up insisted on ringing the doorbell, so in these urgent circumstances, they left the jewelry box in the living room in front of the mirror and went out immediately, locking all the doors. Leaving the house in these circumstances did not pose any risk to the safety of the jewelry, because it was a new and safe house. When they returned from their visit to the house and had just closed the door, the doorbell rang and the father ordered the mother to open it, since he was closest to her, she opened it and saw a close family friend, Gani Çano, owner of the “Hotel Internacional”, who welcomed her and led her to the living room.

There he comes across an open box full of jewelry, the mother apologizes to Ganiu for five minutes while they make arrangements with the father, while he was contemplating the jewelry in the box and this case did not pose any problem, because he was a true friend. The mother had not yet gone to inform the father that Ganiu had arrived and was waiting, the doorbell rang again and the mother returned, opening it immediately, when she saw a police officer and thought there had been some misunderstanding, but he introduced himself as Captain Andrea Mema - head of the Internal Affairs Section in Tirana and went straight inside, without asking anyone and in a loud and commanding tone looking for the father.

The father hears him and immediately comes out, politely escorting him to his studio room, facing the living room where Ganiu was. But fortunately Ganiu heard Andreas' tone with his mother and then with his father, suspected that something was wrong, because such was the time of suspicion and immediately looks out the windows into the yard where there were two cars with armed police officers who were setting up around the apartment, directing their gazes and weapons towards our house. He did not like this situation and immediately takes the jewelry box, covers it in his arms with his overcoat, makes a sign to his mother and immediately leaves the house, he was a practical man, goes up to the third floor and through the terrace goes to the next staircase, goes down and immediately leaves without being noticed by anyone, at these moments that the police officers were setting up from the door of the house and up to the stairs he passed, as Ganiu later told him.

Gani's action and courage were the most wonderful thing he did for us, because with these jewels that he saved us completely by chance, he not only saved them from seizure, theft, but they kept us going for several years, systematically selling them. After about an hour of noise between father and Andrea Mema, they went into the bedroom, straight to father's personal closet and took the very secure suitcase, almost armored like a safe, with the help of a healthy black-faced policeman, and the three of them went out to get into one of the two cars that were waiting outside and left. That night we did not find out what all this trouble was that was taking place in our house, the next day we found out that father had been arrested, along with the suitcase.

The theft of that suitcase was a real catastrophe for our family, not only in economic terms, but also in all other respects. In that cursed suitcase was the entire history of our ancient family, documented for years, through very old authentic documentation, as well as all the original property deeds from the Ottoman era, along with those of our estate in Sarandë - Delvinë, called "Sarone", as well as many very old and valuable historical correspondences that belonged to our family, as well as various school documents from all times, from our father's upbringing and finally his personal archive with very important documents.

Likewise, unfortunately, in that cursed suitcase there was also a quantity of gold coins left over from the rents brought by Ilia Muzina, a former dairy industrialist who had taken “Sarone” as a pasture. This gold money was spent by the father by breaking it into lek for the needs of the family and to cope with his blood sugar disease, which actually required high expenses. He also had in the suitcase some very old antiques inherited from his ancestors and added later by him, some pendants, rings, various decorations, gold, silver, bronze coins which he had bought for considerable amounts, he considered them to prove some controversial historical periods.

In these catastrophic moments for the family, the mother immediately informed her brother about what had happened, hoping that he would surely help us in some way, because she thought that he had the ability to help. But unfortunately he did not intervene, saying; "your husband had that head, and we gave him that party", but let's just say that! The situation that was created in our house was very difficult in all respects, but the biggest evil was that the uncle closed the door on us.

Two or three days after my father's arrest, our new neighbor Sokrat Bufi (Ylli Bufi's father) surprisingly showed up at our apartment. He introduced himself as a representative of the local government and that he was attached to the commission that would register movable property, "that is, to be clear," he said, "I will register the loot, a commission tasked with this task."

He said that these actions will be carried out to deprive us of any right to any registered loot and after this registration, we must consider that we are temporarily living on the loot of the state, "until a decision is made for Neki, who is accused of economic crime. So if the accusation is proven, you are sentenced to the seizure of all assets you have, movable and immovable, and Neki Delvina, along with you, will be deprived of any type of ownership.

"Clear and to the point", - added Sokrat Bufi, and continues again, "I am very sorry and surprised how it is possible that the real sister of a high-ranking leader of the war and of our new state, is the wife of a 'bourgeoisie' and a bloodthirsty like 'yours', wonder"?! After a while he addressed his mother again, but this time in an ordering tone: "You will accompany the commission throughout the registration process, for any clarification needs they may have.

You are obliged to fulfill this duty and duty, and I warn you and advise you to be careful and behave well and wisely, because there is no more 'gili vili', - did you hear me? - I heard you say". The mother, very confused, nodded. First they entered the waiting room and as soon as they entered they examined the walls and started laughing loudly, when they saw four oil paintings with different contents hanging on the walls, one of them turns to comrade Socrates and says: "Chief, should we start the registration from these photos"? He nods. Later we found out that this person who asked Socrates was officially the legitimate chairman of the Commission.

I want to emphasize that I was surprised by the fact that all the members of the group, along with Socrates, pronounced words like the pure Gjirokastrians, e.g.; “ki, ta kriesh” etc., without being Gjirokastrians, but apparently they were imitating Enver out of the “great love” they had for him. This servility continued until he died or rather “died”.

A little later, this young chairman of the committee turns to his mother and asks for a knife to sharpen his copy pen. Then his mother, with all her politeness and fear, gives him a pencil sharpener incorporated into a crystal fish, which it seemed they had never seen before. When he saw that his mother did not bring him the knife he asked for, because the "tool" his mother brought seemed like a toy for a fool, he turned to her with insults and insults: "Who are you kidding, you bourgeois bitch, you villain?" and threw it at her face, causing her to bleed a little, because it was also made of nickel-plated aluminum, but his mother was not moved by the trouble.

After a while, my mother thought that Socrates should be more reasonable than those on the committee and she addressed him with a prayer, that of those four paintings on the wall, if possible, he should not register two pieces, not that she had any concern that they were losing significant monetary or artistic value, but those two paintings represented a great memory for our family, they were gifts for her wedding day with Neki. One was a painting that had a view of a dense forest from the original hand of the great Russian painter "Kuinji", who was considered one of the greatest naturalist painters of that time in Russia and, even, in the world, but moreover it was a gift from the son of our father's aunt, Faik Konica.

While the second painting, it was also on the occasion of the wedding day and a gift from my father's cousin, Nuredin Bey Vlora, and had as its subject a group of people, one of whom was holding a letter in his hand, I remember that he was a scribe and was reading it in the middle of the group that had surrounded him, all of them were laughing (it seems from what they were hearing), this "lecturer" my father said, was called Sirko of the Zapotoros beyond the Danube. This painting was actually a copy of a prominent Russian painter, who the critics of the time said was more accomplished than the original, but I don't remember the names of these two painters.

This was our mother's prayerful request to comrade Socrates, who reacted immediately, but this time in a threatening tone; "Look, we are keeping you close for some clarification need of ours, so I'm telling you for the last time, don't feel bad anymore, because we are also going to send you inside to your husband, listen, I heard you say and plant, put a lock on that stinking mouth in case we don't 'plant' you on us once and for all". From this moment, the mother felt no more, saying to herself: "May God protect us, what did these people say and do, they put you inside and leave the children on the streets".

Their ignorance and evil spirit were visible at every step of their work. Their ignorance was seen better than anywhere else and reached its peak on the occasion when the real scandal occurred, when they found their father's tailcoat jacket in his wardrobe along with his ceremonial tuxedo suit. They were scandalized when they saw the tailcoat jacket cut at the back with a bow, leaving only two tails with torn or loose lining. They called this "mutilated" jacket an "overcoat" and convinced themselves that the cut had been made with the intention of sabotage, so that it would not be used again after the seizure.

They started shouting at their mother, saying, "We caught you red-handed, this is a real crime against the people's property," and here they were, showing their mother the tailcoat. We're leaving aside the "cutting" of the tailcoat's bows, because those "ignorant revolutionaries" wouldn't know the shape of the tailcoat, but I want to explain why the linings of the tailcoats were torn off and why they were hanging. This was the fact of sabotage or crime they had caught.

After my father's arrest, my mother, frightened and shocked, was also thinking about another "visit" by the Sigurimi to our house, so she felt it was necessary to find a way to hide some of the "compromising" materials, because she did not want to give them reason to add to our troubles further. It was about many photographs taken during various high-level official ceremonies, such as with King Zog or with Victor Emmanuel III, etc.

These photographs for our family represented very important memories with unique values ​​that also complemented the historical tradition of our family. No less compromising for us at that time was the Genealogical Tree of our Delvina family, which was documented since 1537, with an inimitable graphic beauty. So, wondering what to do with them, to avoid another scandal, my mother remembered a conversation she had with two of her friends, the wives of Mihal Zallari and Zef Kadare, who had solved this problem in a completely original way, by hiding them in the tails of their tails!

That's why she did this "trick" with perfection, even though I remember that the next day after we had sorted these things out, we re-opened one of the wings and inserted all the correspondence that my father had with a school friend, Fuat Kêpryly, (descendant of the famous Kêpryly dynasty, Prime Minister of the Ottoman Empire), who later became Foreign Minister of Turkey, my father always sent him Albanian postal stamps. because he was a well-known philatelist.

But we were still worried; what if they found us, what would happen? Then we re-torn the linings, took out the “compromising” materials and burned them with great regret, but unfortunately we left the linings unsewn. This mistake became the cause of this whole absurd story, that they suspected that we had cut and torn the tailcoat or “overcoat” as they called it for sabotage reasons. Immediately after this whole scandal, comrade Sokrat Bufi (apparently to please the proletarians of the commission, I say this because we never believed that he was as ignorant as they were and had never worn a tailcoat jacket in his life), with an unprecedented nervousness or, with an animalistic behavior, addressed the mother:

"How can you not be ashamed and embarrassed that you have thus squandered this new loot? Look, look, this is a compromising and flagrant fact for you, and for this you will answer severely, very severely indeed." The poor mother was completely disillusioned, as if by the words of Socrates, which were extremely heavy, because we did not deserve them, "but she was completely unfazed - she said - when I saw a member of the commission take from a shelf in the crystal cabinet, 12 small spoons of Greek jam with a twisted tail made of pure silver, and put them in one of his pockets, which were never inventoried, only when that 'thief in law' realized that I had seen him, approached me and said to me in a low voice: 'open that m... mouth without looking at it'!/ Memorie.al