By Fatmir Menekshe
“A Roma neighborhood, but today without Roma people. A once vibrant place, now empty. A place that once laughed, now weeps.”
With these words, Azir Jasari, a Roma journalist and researcher from Prishtina, begins his account. Through personal memories, he revisits the history of Moravska, once one of the largest Roma neighbourhoods in Kosovo’s capital, a community that today has almost entirely disappeared in the form it once knew.
For Jasari, Prishtina is more than just the city where he was born and raised.
It is part of both his personal and collective memory, a place that, in his view, has been transformed to such an extent that the traces of the former Roma community are barely recognizable.
“They changed our footprints, they demolished them, erased them, painted over them, and covered them with other colors,” he says, describing a profound sense of loss of identity and belonging.
A Large Community at the Heart of Prishtina
According to figures cited by Jasari, before the Kosovo War, approximately 22,000 Roma lived in Prishtina and the surrounding areas, including Fushë Kosovë, Gračanica, and several nearby villages.
The Roma community in Prishtina was primarily concentrated in three neighborhoods: Moravska, Dalmatinska (Divanjolli), and Kolibarska.
Moravska alone, located behind the City Theatre just a few minutes from the center of Prishtina, was home to around 10,000 residents.
“Alongside the Roma lived Albanians, Serbs, Turks, and Gorani. We lived like brothers. There were no conflicts among us, and life unfolded in a spirit of coexistence,” he recalls.
Today, only physical reminders he retains from his life in Prishtina are the keys to his house and office. “I still carry them with me.”
The Roma community included respected craftsmen, intellectuals, and educated professionals. Jasari also recounts the story of Sallqe, a renowned blacksmith who was said to have worked on the royal carriage of King Alexander Karađorđević.
From Marginalization to Emancipation
Although infrastructure in Roma neighborhoods was often poor—with limited access to water, sewage systems, and paved roads—the 1980s marked an important period of social advancement.
“There was a significant increase in education within the Roma community. There had always been educated individuals, but at that time the number of pupils and university students grew considerably,” Jasari remembers.
According to him, thanks to a generation of Roma intellectuals, the community’s social and educational conditions began to improve. However, this progress was interrupted by the outbreak of war.
An Exodus Rarely Discussed
Jasari describes the departure of Roma from Kosovo as one of the greatest and least acknowledged tragedies of the post-war period.
“The Roma represent the largest proportion of those who left Kosovo. Around 95 percent of the community was forced to leave,” he says.
According to Jasari, between 150,000 and 200,000 Roma lived in Kosovo before the war, whereas today their number is significantly lower.
He emphasizes that during the conflict, the Roma found themselves caught between two opposing sides.
“One side considered us collaborators of the Serbs, while the other, because of our names and religion, viewed us as collaborators of the Albanians. We only wanted to remain Roma.”
In his view, maintaining neutrality during the war was nearly impossible.
Fear, Abductions, and Violence
In his testimony, Jasari speaks of numerous cases of abduction, disappearance, and violence that, according to him, have remained undocumented.
He recalls armed men with covered faces entering neighborhoods, forcibly taking people away, after which nothing more was heard about their fate.
“There were also many cases of sexual violence against Roma, but they were never reported,” he says.
According to Jasari, the Roma community sought protection from international forces after the war, but felt abandoned and unheard.
The End of Moravska
Jasari remained in Prishtina with his family until June 29, 1999. He remembers witnessing Roma families being forced from their homes while their properties were set on fire.
“Every day people were leaving. The bus station was full. Far more people boarded each bus than it could hold. The scenes were heartbreaking.”
Eventually, he too left with his wife and three children.
“It was very difficult to leave my home. My wife told me to take our photo albums. I said no, because we would return. But we never returned.”
Today, the only physical reminders he retains from his life in Prishtina are the keys to his house and office. “I still carry them with me.”
Memory Against Oblivion
According to Jasari, much of the Moravska neighborhood has been destroyed or completely transformed. Many former residents no longer see return as a realistic possibility due to a lack of security and trust.
He also criticizes the lack of media coverage regarding the fate of the Roma community during and after the war.
“No one asked us whether we wanted to stay or leave. No one asked about our problems.”
Yet his final message is not only a story of loss, but also an effort to preserve memory.
He recalls armed men with covered faces entering neighborhoods, forcibly taking people away, after which nothing more was heard about their fate.
“There were also many cases of sexual violence against Roma, but they were never reported,” he says.
According to Jasari, the Roma community sought protection from international forces after the war but felt abandoned and unheard.
“Our neighborhoods were built on granite stone. They have survived many wars and have deep roots. Our grandparents are buried there. They will speak for us. We have sworn that we will never forget them.”
For Azir Jasari, Moravska may no longer exist as it once did, but the memory of it remains an inseparable part of the identity of a community determined not to be forgotten. Its story serves as a reminder that coming to terms with the past cannot be complete without listening to the voices that have remained on the margins of history for decades.
Full podcast link in Roma language: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1w0hOZLALQ
This podcast is a product of the Academy on Reporting on Dealing with the Past (DwP) and Conflict-Sensitive Journalism, implemented by the Pro Peace Program in Kosovo and the Association of Journalists of Kosovo (AGK). The views expressed in this article are the responsibility of the journalist and do not in any way reflect the views of Pro Peace and AGK.
