I grew up in 90’s, when Serbia was ruled by a communist dictator disguised as nationalist. It was a very unfortunate time. All moral values deteriorated. My country was not in war, but people was being lead away by MPs in the middle of the night to fight somewhere. I watched my school friends abandoning school and associating with criminals. I watched criminals owning the police, whole cities. I watched young girls with just one wish: to be picked up by the richest bald-headed criminal with the shiny new Mercedes or BMW.
The dictator allowed all that. He let anyone with a gun and no brain do what they want, while they kept him in power.
On September 24th, year 2000, my 26th birthday, people of Serbia finally got out of their asses and voted against him. He refused to acknowledge that, as usual. This time, he was not able to buy anyone from opposition. On October 5, over 1 million people was on the streets on Belgrade. In that one day, everything collapsed. He was no long. We were free.
Among many, one man stood highest. He was the key leader behind all of it. He became first democratic Prime Minister, he was the leader on the good road.
First time in my life, I felt hope. Hope for a good life, in my own country. Few hundreds thousands young and bright guys and gals left the country before this spark of hope was kindled.
I still live on the remains of that spark.
Rest in peace Zoran. You will always be remembered.
The head of funeral column
Several hundred thousands people payed their respect