She slept some nights on her mother's lap in a dark, damp place
underground where people lashed out at each other in anger. Then she slept
in the hallway of her apartment cuddled next to her parents.
When daylight came, she and her parents, Dragica and Zoran, watched
cartoons, went to the park and shopped.
For 3-year-old Jovana, there was no war and
no bombings in her hometown of Belgrade, Yugoslavia.
But for her parents, the NATO bombing campaign was a time of fear and
hardship.
Keeping Jovana isolated from the atrocities was Zoran and Dragica
Mijalkovics' greatest victory.
"We kept all her daily activities unchanged, to watch TV cartoons in the
morning, to go to the park to play with other children, to go to places in
town she likes. On that way, we succeed. She doesn't know that we have been
in war. And it is our great success," Zoran Mijalkovic said.
When the bombs started to fall on Belgrade, Zoran and Dragica swept
Jovana into their arms and ran to the bomb shelter in their suburban
neighborhood.
"It is good shelter underground with special entries and exits, separate
power and some kind of metal beds," Mijalkovac said.
But the tension in the shelter was too much for some, who lashed out in
anger at each other, Mijalkovac said.
When Mijalkovac and his wife returned to their apartment, they decided
not to go to the shelter but to go to the cellar under their building when
the sirens sounded.
By the third day, Mijalkovac and his wife decided not to go to the
cellar.
"The third day, we understood that this bombing will take long, and that
they are bombing military targets. As our suburb has not anything even like
military target, and as our daughter is not the mushroom to be raised in
cellar but human being, we decided not to go to the shelter and the cellar
any more but to stay in our home where Jovana can sleep in normal
atmosphere," Mijalkovac said.
But the atmosphere was anything but normal no matter how hard Zoran and
Dragica tried. They slept together in a small room of their apartment and
later in the hallway to escape the flying glass from breaking windows.
"The sound of the air raid sirens was scary. Fortunately, in our suburb
it was not so loud. And I explain to her (Jovana) when we heard it that it
was a big dog crying," Mijalkovac said.
Jovana was asleep when the bombing started each night. So she often
didn't hear the explosions.
Sometimes, however, she woke up in fright. So the Mijalkovacs turned the
TV up loud in an attempt to drown out the noise of destruction.
The bombs mostly hit four to nine miles away from the Mijalkovacs' home.
"But sometimes they hit so big bombs that every window in our home
opened, all furniture tremble, the glass objects ring like bells, something
like an earthquake," Mijalkovac said.
He said he and his wife stayed up late worrying. Dragica started taking
sleeping pills.
"We slept completely dressed to be ready to leave the house immediately.
By the entry door we had small bag with basic food and water for Jovana and
our documents to pick it up if we must leave," Mijalkovac said.
Air raids were stepped up in the last 10 days of the 79-day war when
bombs were dropped night and day on Belgrade, destroying the power plants,
Mijalkovac said.
Belgrade is built on nine small hills, so electricity is needed to pump
water into the homes. Without electricity, there was no water, Mijalkovac
said.
For his wife, having no electricity and water was particularly stressful,
Mijalkovac said.
"She only cried whole day. The situation in which she cannot feed her
child was no match for her," he said.
Jovana also could not watch her favorite video.
"It was not possible but very hard to explain to her why not possible (to
watch "Aladdin") and why there is not electricity. We told her stories. And
she has been sad and went to bed earlier than usual," Mijalkovac said.
When the bombing ended, the Mijalkovacs celebrated like many other Serbs.
"For us the suspension of the bombing has been big relief. Dragica cried,
and we celebrated the end of fear and nightmares," Mijalkovac said.
But now the celebration has ended and the Mijalkovacs must plan for the
future, one that looks dim to them.
Before the war, the Mijalkovacs had their own consulting business, which
they operated out of their home. Mijalkovac, 59, has an engineering degree.
Dragica, 44, has a degree in economics. But their business ended with the
beginning of the war.
"It was a very strange feeling after all the years I worked suddenly
nothing to do. Dragica has her usual activities around Jovana and our home,
but nothing for me," Zoran Mijalkovac said.
He is very worried about what the future holds for Jovana.
"For us, we can say that we had nice childhood. We had good schools. We
study on good university. We had opportunity to work for the good companies,
to travel and see the whole world. But what for her?" Mijalkovac asked.
He said most local power plants, bridges, highways, railways and
factories are destroyed. He predicts it will take 20 years to rebuild them.
"And it will be no money soon. Because of that we must to think how to
organize ourselves to make some future for Jovana. Probably we must leave
country. And it is not easy," Mijalkovac said.