An old woman in front of me found what she was looking for: her son’s coffin. I remember she stood there, crying. She had no news of her son for so long and now she found him again, in a wooden box. She probably never had the chance to say goodbye. She was stroking the coffin, whispering softly.
Many of the camp's inhabitants were originally from Srebrenica but are still too frightened or traumatized to return to their homes. So they remain paralyzed: afraid of going back and afraid of starting a new life somewhere else.