Vancon Laetitia (Danish School of Journalism)
My home, my prison.
Gold
International Picture Story
The project "My home, my prison", depicts the blood feud phenomenon in North of Albania, in an intimate approach.
I found important to focus on, how an ancient tradition, which still exist in a modern country, can affect an entire family.
The Vukaj family (Noja, his wife Angje and their children) originally from the north of Albania, have been involved in an infernal spiral of Blood Feud for now 20 years, with having no other faults than the one of belonging to the "wrong" clan.
The clan structure is deeply rooted into Blood Feud conflicts.
Belonging to a clan - which means here concretely to a group of families with a real or notional relationship - implicate to belong to the traditional social code, called the Kanun, which belongs to culture and tradition, which belongs to history.
The traditional social code, called Kanun is a defining feature of Albanian culture, based on the Kanuni i Lekë Dukagjinit, created by Lek Dukagjin in the 15th century to establish peace among quarreling clans in the mountainous region of present-day northern Albania. It is representing the regulation of interpersonal interactions, a codified means of preserving cultural traditions, and also provides a framework to govern every aspect of life.
The concept of honor is crucial to the kanun and Blood feuds are a common method of defending and reestablishing honor. In this way, the tradition of vengeance killings to restore the honor creates a cyclical pattern of murder.
Those stories sounds from another time, but are only 2 hours far from Milan by plane, and still perpetrated until today, mainly in North of Albania, where the kanun has been given priority over national legislation in many communities because the institutionalized justice system in Albania is weak, corrupted, unenforced, and often unsuitable for dealing with murders related to blood feuds. This justice system leaves the family of Noja without their basic human rights: right to education, social life
Story: My home, my prison.
Hope & loneliness
In North of Albania, the social ancestral code, called "Kanun", emerges again after the fall of the communism time in 1991. In 2014, it is now a degenerated version of it, without boundaries and exceptions. It becomes a total confusion and a deep social wound with too many bitter consequences, and a flagrant violation of human rights.Since 20 years, the family Vukaj is trapped in one of those tragic stories. Lock inside their house, their only crime is to belong to the "wrong" clan. Stories from another age, only two hours away by plane from Geneva or Milan. North of Albania, although close geographically, remains definitely mainly unknown and impenetrable from the rest of Europe.
Story: My home, my prison.
Jozefina and Vilma on the living-room
Blood feud blights the lives of the whole family. Vilma 16 years old, and Jozefina 10 years old, laying on the coach of the living room. The girls resort to text messages, Skype, video clips on TV or YouTube and Facebook to interact with the outside world.
Their modern means of communication juxtaposes the old-world values of the Kanun and traditional Albanian lifestyle.
Story: My home, my prison.
Vilma waching the dishes
"I am born into chaos. I don’t really know what peace feels like, says Vilma, The worst for me is that I never could do what I wanted. I couldn’t go to school, I couldn’t meet some friend - Apart of my family, I know nobody!"
Story: My home, my prison.
Angje and Jozefina
Angje, the wife of Noja, and their daughter Jozefina. Angje is suffering from depression and anxiety.
Story: My home, my prison.
Noja at the hospital
The Besa has been given to the family until the 5th of June 2014. Noja used this time to go to the hospital. He has a severe infection of his right elbow ligaments.
"I am really pessimist about our future. Nobody cares about us, nobody works with heart, in our days if you cannot serve the interests of the people, you are nothing, you do not count."
Less than the half of the population in Albania has health insurance. However, insured or not, you might not gain the interest of nursing staff without a bribe, and your generosity will significantly improve the quality of your treatment.
Story: My home, my prison.
Angje is waiting in front of a Christian convent to receive some
Once a month, Angje is waiting in front of a Christian convent to receive some food. This day, like many of them, she will receive nothing.
Vilma confined: "I feel sad as I see my family suffering for daily bread, I grieve when my mum goes like a beggar behind the doors of churches or associations to ask for some food.. I grieve when I see my sister, Jozefina, growing without perspectives for her future. I can not see her anymore watching from behind the window what she is dreaming to do. I hope one day we can pull out the fence and we can make our dreams come true."
Story: My home, my prison.
Angje the wife of Noja in her bathroom
While time moves on for the rest of the world, it stands still in the family Vukaj.
They are victims of a system that is not seriously considering their issue, and they psychologically hold themselves on hopes and dreams.
Many media outlets and associations are using this phenomenon for their own profits, and rarely bring any new solutions. It seems like the eradication of blood feud is no one’s priority in Albania.
Story: My home, my prison.
Aldo, the grand-son of Noja, running in his arms.
The Vukaj family story is one that makes the world feel like a smaller place, It suggests that the similarities connecting us across continents and cultures are more resonant than the things that divide us. It seems that we can never give up longing and wishing while we are still alive. There are certain things we feel are beautiful and good, and we hope and hunger for them. Whatever happens we keep on moving further.