By Hasan Selimi

No one knows where to start, when I write something about a house that we now call a door. And by the word door we mean a valuable heritage in the service of people in need or, in the service of the homeland. And although I don't know where to start, I have to start because a lot of time has passed and the door of the bajraktari of Shipshan has been left speechless. No, because it has been left speechless that no one has written or, because there is no word about this door, but a villager of his did not write. And so, father and son, Din Bajram Bajraktari and Bek Din Bajraktari, inherit the door of the bajraktari of Shipshan. A tribe founded in many difficulties. Oral tradition, turned into legend, leaves and compiles all kinds of stories, some of which even take on Fishtjane proportions. Someone may say that this or that is not true, but it is universally known that every birth is painful and very, very difficult, but birth is beautiful.

The flag as a banner was carried into battle with bravery and selflessness. There, the resistance was unparalleled. All the men of Shipshan and Gashi fought heroically. Until then, we lived in one tribe and were led by the Gashi banner. No one knows exactly how Shipshan was divided, but it is known that at the request of two hundred houses or "times", as the mother banner was called at the time, it granted the right to separate those houses into one banner, according to the rules of the time (sharia).

War and the flag bearer is killed in a very commendable effort for the homeland and religion. The first of the door of the today's flag bearer Shipshan, finds that there is no flag among the living. He looks and orients himself that the flag is among the corpses, there on the battlefield. With unparalleled bravery and patriotism, he runs towards the national and tribal symbol (military unit). After fighting with several opponents, he wins three to one. He takes the flag. He returns to the other warriors. He informs them of what happened. In his village Papaj, he places the flag. He does this to show that he fought for religion and homeland, but not to be the first.

The movements of the time called the new door for the new flag to the stage. And this was decided to lead in all historical turns in the battles of mind and strength for the homeland. After Bek Din, came Tahiri and later Rustem and Salih Tahiri. Tahiri participated in several popular movements, whose words were heard and whose thoughts were taken into account. This leading man had an unparalleled support from the youth and manhood of Shipshan in general and the village of Kasaj in particular.

Rustem Tahiri in the war of Plava and Gucia, faced the regular military forces of Beličko Bojović. This bloodthirsty defended the interests of the Serbian state. Rustem, at the head of the youth of the Gjakova Highlands, triumphed in justice and won for the moment. After this victory, this young man from Kasaje of Shipshan, fell seriously ill and died in his home.

There are all kinds of descriptions of Rrustem Tahiri regarding his virtues that were not compared to any of his peers of the time. The Bajraktars, although now not recognized according to the constitution (statute of the Kingdom), had to exist as a door, even to give their contribution to the new life of the country. And for this Salih Tahiri, educated in foreign schools, but based in Albania, was needed by this time.

He was appointed to the municipalities of Beci and Peja, as an important administrator. The life-or-death conflict with the Serbian state forced him to leave there and continue working in the municipality of Puka as the head of agriculture. In this municipality, he emerged as a man of his time. The Pukjans loved and respected him. Here, it was impossible not to notice the fairy-like charm of Xhevahira.

This came from Gjakova to her uncle in Kabash. Well, Shpend Halili, a man and a door known for everything that the time requires. There and only there Salih Tahiri wanted to rest. Since he had a relationship with Shpend, he did not delay and told him that he loved the girl that Shpend had as a guest. Shpend laughed. I told him that; "the girl you saw last night is my niece. Yes, man, she is Misire's daughter. We had given her in Flet and Sadiku, Misire's husband, died. This Xhevahire Sadikja was born on Sadiku's fortieth birthday. We expected her to give birth to a boy, but she gave birth to a girl. Now she is staying with her uncle in Gjakova. I will talk to my friends and tell you".

The state of waiting for word regarding Xhevahire Sadike did not last long for Salih Tahiri. Friends from Fleti, men of name and weight in the society of the time, knew the door of the bajraktar of Shipshan, they even knew the future groom. This acquaintance took Salihi by surprise. – “Don’t be surprised,” said Shpendi. You, your house, were friends of the door of the Kryezivs. My friends are also friends of the house of the Kryezivs of Gjakova. They saw you there and heard your words.”

The marriage took place quickly and as Sali Bajraktari wanted. One day Salihi was coming with his bride from Gjakova. Both of them were riding on saddle horses. Young and beautiful. They were equal to the shadow of the epic. If Fishta had met them, she would have told them that Sokol Halili had come with Krajli's daughter. The song would have continued. "She has a forehead like a rudina at sunrise. She has eyebrows and hair like a forest in snowy mountains. Her neck and figure are like fairies in the light of lightning. Her eyes are like black paint in June. She has a waist like Sali Tahiri's finger ring".

This is what the old women of our village said about that bride on that September day who was coming from Gjakova. Even though the sun had conquered the earth, that olive of the blue sky was shining. Life is not quite like in dreams. This couple, who had no measure for their charm and love for each other, did not have a birth that would make them happy. They had daughters and died as if they had been sold. Xhevahirja, as the daughter of a good family, gave the opinion that the family of the Bajraktari should have an heir. – “You Sali, you should get married”. Found in conditions unknown to life, Sali Bajraktari asked for the hand of a girl from the family of Bajram Haziri, in Rrogam-Llugaj.

Eh. Bajram Haziri. One of the first chimney sweeps of the Gjakova Highlands. One of the most famous men in this region. He died tortured just for the fault of being a man whose word was heard. Time did not want shadows. And the shadow of this man then harmed them. At least that's what was thought at the time. Almost as soon as Sali Tahiri's second wedding took place, Mustaf Sali Bajraktari was born. Grandson of Rrustem Tahiri, of Sadik Rama of Flet. Complete in everything and what a future leader needed. Everyone in that village rejoiced. Mustafa was born in the arms of Kadë Januza. This was Rrustem and Sali Bajraktari's mother, who came from the most famous door of Vuthaje of Plavë.

He grew up with his half-brother Tahiri. Tahiri was the son of Fatime Rame. This daughter of the first door in Malësia, right behind the chimney of Mus Zeneli of the Shipshan prison. With Tahiri they were almost like twins. They got along very well and were among the most favorite boys in the village. Today, the entire village remembers these two boys with longing and special respect. We mentioned above that life does not come as in fairy tales. Albania was liberated. Sali Bajraktari was appointed to important positions in the Tropoja district. He had duties in the district administration, even as head of agriculture. Political events followed one after another.

Sali Bajraktar's family was forced by the state of the time to live outside the Tropoja district. He and his family lived in the Fier district. There they took almost all the children, a triple culture. Mustafa, Tahiri and Besnik, learned the intelligent game of chess. Mustafa loved and kept Besnik very close. He even, when he escaped to the former Yugoslavia, wanted to take Besnik with him. He liked him as an intellect and tried to educate him differently from the time. He did this without being noticed.

Xhevahira and Fatima's daughters became the best girls, not only in the village, but also in the area. I say Xhevahira and Fatima, because they were concerned with the education of the girls. Salihi did not have time to deal with the girls, even though there were many of them, such as; Drita, Bedria, Makbulja, Bahria, Nexhmia, Zarifja, Vojsava, Afërdita, Fiqiretja.

The years passed and emigration, or internment, which means living outside the Bajraktar settlement, brought another level of knowledge and conditions to understand the Albanian life and reality of the time. This was the number one condition for Mustaf Salihi, to seek his freedom and his right to be free. He decided, but he did not do the calculations well. He escaped, as it was said in the legal terminology of the time.

The escape to the former Yugoslavia brought him tragedy, not only family, but also personal. The calculation was incorrect. His family was at enmity with the Serbs, both private and national. Therefore, Mustafa would not find what he was looking for there.
As soon as Serbian officials in Gjakova and Peja found out who he was and whose family he belonged to, they returned him in record time, without regular procedures, that is, with expedited procedures. In Tropoja, he was sentenced to many years in prison.

A serious accusation for an eighteen-year-old. Escape in the form of treason against the homeland. “I don’t understand,” Mustafa told them in the courtroom. “You understand, you understand,” replied those who were judging him. “Yes, I understand, but it is not true that I have betrayed family and patriotic ideals. I have sought and seek freedom, not only for myself, but also for all the young people who are growing up today in my homeland.”

With this statement, he proved the ideological charge and was sentenced to serve his sentence in Spaç i Mirdita. There, he could not submit to the solitude and sought freedom, escaping from the place of punishment. With this act, this boy-man's sentence was extended by another twenty years. Life in prison and torture did not stop.

He had left his mother and sisters in the village of Kasaj, in misery. He remembers his mother who left him sick, his younger sisters and all the other people in exile. This life was unbearable. The day did not get old even though he studied constantly and learned foreign languages. The day did not pass even though the heated debates between the convicts lasted for hours and even nights.

His mother Xahija, as all the children called her, had the great burden of keeping the door of the Shipshani bajarktar open. This woman, who once Fishta could call out “the sun has stopped and is looking in amazement. Hana is shining and the star is giving light. There will never be a night again”, now took on the form of a man. With Makbula now thirteen years old, she became the master of everything related to this house.

If we were to define her now with a woman, she would be better than anyone else; the “iron woman”. With an incurable disease, small children and the nickname “enemy”, she bore the full brunt of life in the village. Makbulja recalls: “We have unsparing respect for our fellow villagers. They never gave up on us. They helped us as much as they could and time allowed.”

She continues her memories for hours and nominates all the villagers by name. Bulja constantly accompanied Xahie, to see Mustafa in Spaç and Burrel. She tells all kinds of events that are subjects for essays and stories, even humorous ones now that time is understood differently. Bedria, married, but also to a man with a nickname for the time, never gave up, neither she nor her husband, on those suffering people.

One day, Bulja timidly went to the post office to get the reply for sending a sum of money to her brother, Mustafa, in prison. That little money earned with blood and effort, which I have no novel to tell. The post office official gave her a reply, which read; "the recipient of the money has died". The earth came around her. She asked the official; "Are you mistaken, that I am not the recipient of this telegram"?!

At home, she handed over the telegram as if she had not paid attention. Xhevahire Sadikja read it. As soon as she read it, she threw herself on her bed and lay there until she passed away. She talked and cursed her own life. “Why did I learn to write and read?” she said. “To read about my son’s death, after I finished boarding school in Gjakova.” She talked to herself like that almost the entire night.

During this time, Sali Tahiri and the children he had with Fatime Hazire were interned in the village of Brice, part of the united village of Lekbibaj. The situation of this family became very difficult. The morale of this family never dropped. Besnik continued his high school education in Breg-Lumi Dukagjin. An example of education and determination, even a product of Mustafa's selection.

Here, in this unusual story of this family, the line is very fitting: “That rifle that fell on you, fell on all of our brotherhood”. The rifle that took the life of Sadik Rama of Flet and left Xhevahira unborn, accompanied him throughout his life in misery and suffering. They say that an orphan never rejoices. This story best confirms this ancient saying. In a psychological terror and persecution, not only physical, the family of Mustaf Bajraktar lives united and dignified. Life now has a completely different shape. The values ​​of each are measured by their individual contribution.

Mustaf Sali Bajraktari fits the postulate; that there is nothing for him but birth. He received the decoration "Martyr of Democracy" from the President of the Republic, he is an "Honorary Citizen" of the former Tropoja municipality. Now in eternity his name will be in old Tropoja - "Mustaf Bajraktari" Square, the place where he spent his life until the end. Generations will be proud of this qualitative name established by the institutions for his contribution. Now time appreciates values./ Memorie.al