In the first issue of the Missing Persons project, we presented to the readers of Presslub.az the sad story of Alesker Kazimov, a resident of Bashlybel, Kelbajar, the end of which is unknown. This time you will meet the daughter-in-law of this family, who disappeared in a different direction, 26-year-old Naiba Kazimova. We talked about this with her husband Allahverdi Kazimov, who saw her for the last time at the scene of the incident, in the village of Nadirkhanly, Kalbajar region, on the banks of the Terter River.

The river flows to the right of the winding mountain road, and sheer cliffs rise to the left. My interviewee carefully examines the surroundings with tear-stained eyes. He often wipes his eyes with trembling hands. I look at him and think to myself:

- My God, how can you determine this point without finding any signs, returning to the place where the tragedy happened after 28 years?

And he walks right and left with resolute steps, looks at the rock in front of him from where he stands, turns around and looks at the river, turns back to the rocks and calls with his eyes, cries. Finally, at some point, he stopped and confidently said: "Look, it's here!" As if reading my mind, he added:

- It's right here! Do not think that there are no traces left around. The places have changed a lot. The road was not so wide then. The road we were on was narrow and winding. However, the incident happened right here, in this place... I promised her that I would return. I didn't know I'd be back 28 years later, but I knew I'd be back someday. Therefore, I imprinted the image of each stone and rock in my memory and returned here every day in a dream ... You can be certain that, despite the fact that it was the most difficult day of my life, I remembered it so vividly that I won't miss a single step…



- When you had to leave the village, it was April 1, 1993. The day before, on March 31, the Armenian armed forces entered Kelbajar and carried out a merciless massacre at the beginning of the "tunnel"…

- Yes, the tunnel road was already closed for us. But we didn't know all that yet. My father called me and said that the children of Alekbar are big, if necessary, they can climb mountains. And my kids are just babies, they can barely stand on their feet... At that time, my son Vusal was 4 years old, and my daughter Fergana was 3 years old. The villagers were preparing to leave on a collective farm truck GAZ-52. The driver was my cousin Ziyaddin. The father suggested that my wife and I take the children and go with the villagers in this car. We said goodbye - it never occurred to me that I was saying goodbye to my father forever - and left. Around 6-7 pm on the road they said that “the tunnel is closed!”. Again, it didn't occur to us that a massacre had been committed... We went back.

- Back where? To Bashlybel?

- No, we had to go to Murov. We arrived by car and spent the night in one of the villages. We set off as soon as dawn broke. But the roads were so snowy that the truck could not move. We all got out of the car and continued on foot. The air was cold, the frost cut like a knife, my wife tied a woolen scarf around our daughter, and I held our son ...My aunt Sakina, my uncle's sons Ziyaddin and Goshgar and other villagers were with us. We walked for hours with a bunch of people I didn't know from other villages... Everything was not like it is now, no telephone, no clock... So I can't tell the exact time, but when we reached the village of Nadirkhanly, it was around noon. We saw an approaching tank, calmed down. We thought they must be our soldiers. When the soldiers on top of the tank spoke in Armenian and opened fire with a machine gun, confusion arose, we turned left and headed towards the mountains and rocks. The tank moved forward and stopped at the river. It turned to the mountain and started hitting the rocks above... You can't imagine the sounds, the screams of people, the crying of babies, the sound of guns, the roar of exploding rocks falling on us from above…

- And in this horror there is no time to calm the children. You must move forward…

- To stop meant to die, to return - to be taken hostage, and to go forward - to go into uncertainty ... We ran to this uncertainty with our children ... We could not protect ourselves from the rain of bullets, nor from the hail of stones that fell on our heads... We were high when I saw my wife fall. I quickly hid Vusal behind a large nearby stone, thinking that the stone would protect from the fire from behind, and God would protect from the approaching stones! Then I ran, untied Fergana from Naiba's back and brought her to Vusal. “Don't move,” I said. Then, together with my cousin Goshgar, we dragged Naiba and brought her to the children ... The bullet hit her in the leg, but wherever I touched, my hands were covered in blood ... Maybe she was wounded in several places, I don't know.

I had a grenade, I carried it with me for a rainy day. I saw that the fire does not stop, it seems unthinkable to climb to the top with a wounded woman and children and escape. I thought we couldn't get out of here, it's better to die than to be taken hostage. I looked into the eyes of Naiba, the children... I said that I would detonate this grenade, we would all die together, but I would not let any of us be captured. My aunt was also with us, no one reacted, only Vusal started crying... My hands were shaking... Naiba said: "Take the children out of here..." My aunt replied that we would take the children out... Naiba wrapped Ferghana in her woolen scarf and told me: “Allahverdi, take the children out of here!” She turned to her aunt: “Aunt, take the children away!”

- Was the grenade in your hand all this time?

- No, just when Vusal started crying, I threw the grenade aside... I knew I couldn't... However, fulfilling her wish was not easy either. Leave her helpless under this hail of bullets and stones, and take the children away? I told my aunt to leave so that I could stay. I couldn't leave Naiba like this. But she insisted ... She said only one thing - "Take the children away!" She turned to her aunt, said: “I entrust the children to you. By all means, get them out of here safe and sound!

Her coat was covered in blood, I took off my coat and covered her with it, tied Fergana on my back with that woolen scarf and took Vusal in my arms. I said, "Don't worry, I promise I'll get the kids out of here safe and sound. I will come back for you. I will definitely be back!" And she kept repeating the same words: “Hurry, take the children away from here, without wasting time! Save them!” The last time I told her I'd be back and left…

Sometimes we tied Ferghana to my aunt’s back, but she was elderly, it was not easy to move through the snow in the mountains... When we got to the asphalt road in the village of Yanshag, there were so many people running with their children. In the turmoil, I lost both my aunt and my cousin Goshgar.

I was walking alone with two children. I will never forget... I saw a big stone in the forest and sat down. Vusal slept on my back. And Ferghana was crying in my arms... I tried to calm her down, but she is a child, she wants her mother, she wants food... People were passing by me... Looking up, I saw that I was completely alone... Mountain, forest, the darkness of the night and a man rushing forward with two babies to return ... Maybe you won't believe it, but I walked towards the rustle of people in front …

- How far could you get?

- To Murov. Here I have already joined the crowd. Before us appeared the military. They said: “Where are you going with the whole crowd? Let the men return." They also told me: “Give the children to their mother, you are a young man, come back ...” I sobbed uncontrollably ... I said: “Their mother remained there” ... At this time, a middle-aged soldier grabbed me by the collar, pulled me out of the crowd , put in the "Niva" and said: "Take this man away, his children will not be left orphans ..." May Allah bless him!

The driver took me part of the road and then said: “Brother, we have people, I have to go back for them. I can't get out of here if I go further. There is a roadside house ahead, go there...” I came and saw that my father-in-law and mother-in-law were in the roadside house. I told about the incident, said that I needed to return. “Stay with the kids, and I'll go see how to rescue Naiba. I left her wounded..."

My late father-in-law Alzaman also went with me. To return, we rented a car for 400 rubles with the then money. The driver was an old man. Later, when we were talking to the soldiers, he heard what happened to us and did not take the money. He said: "I thought you were going after the cattle, I didn't know that you were going to bring the wounded..."

- Where did you get to by car?

- To Murov and from there I was going to go further on foot.

When Allahverdi Kazimov, who told me with tears in his eyes about what had happened up to this point, approached this place, he turned his face to the rocks and continued louder, as if trying to convey his voice to the space behind the stone he was looking at:

- In Murov, the military stopped us and said that it was impossible to go. I didn't listen, I passed by. The officer grabbed my father-in-law by the collar and said: “Old man, you have one foot in the grave, and he is young!” I was 29 then... The officer continued: “As soon as he gets there, the Armenians will either shoot him or take him hostage. But who will take care of these two children? What will be their end? Be sure your wounded is already dead. How long can a wounded person live in this snow and frost?” We had to return... The next morning we went again... The same situation... We went three days in a row, the soldiers did not let us through... They said: "Understand, Kelbajar is already busy!"

- Did the children remain in the "roadside house" all this time?

- The wife of Shakir, my son-in-law, was from Yevlakh, they took the children. We returned, upset in every sense ... The last time we argued with a soldier in Murov on April 5, we could not cross ... The village of Kamyshly was already occupied. May the earth rest lightly to him, Alzaman walked and returned with me to Murov in that snow and snowstorm for three days ... He did not leave me alone …

- Your niece, Mrs. Tazhira, told me: «When we left the blockade, having lived in the camp for 113 days, and found my uncle’s family in Yevlakh, we saw children wrapped in a woolen shawl left by their mother, waiting for his arrival ... »

- The children did not let go of that shawl ... I fulfilled the last will of Naiba. I saved children, raised them and gave them education for a salary of 300 manats. Both received higher education and started a family. All these years, when I looked at the faces of my children, her last words sounded in my ears: “Take the children away. I entrust the children to you, take the children away!” This voice never leaves my ears... Saving her children was her last wish...

- Since those days, your son Vusal remembers only the moment of meeting with the Armenians and how his mother was shot...



- He always said that one day he would avenge his mother. When the Patriotic War began, he volunteered and said: "I have been waiting for this day for many years." He took part in the war, was awarded the medal "For the Liberation of Lachin". Now he continues his work as a pediatrician in Ganja. I have a request to you, wait here for ten minutes, I will climb the mountain and look for that stone where I left Naiba ...

- ...

- I'll be back in ten minutes. Just ten minutes! Maybe I can find at least one bone? Maybe there's a sign... It's hope... hope... I'll be right back...

How can I tell him "don't go"? Many years ago, he promised to return to the woman he loved, whom he left here wounded...

How do I tell him "go"? Traces of the Armenian occupation, which at that time prevented him from keeping his word, still remain on these lands. How to break the warning "stay on the road" of the military police watching us?

And the most difficult thing is how to tell him "you will not find anything there"? I haven't forgotten the voice from "QSM-7"... On April 1, 1993, an urgent order was given from the headquarters radio station in the Vardenis region of Armenia to the main radio station in the Kelbajar war zone to transmit it to all mobile radio stations in the region. The order demanded the immediate destruction and burial of Azerbaijani prisoners and hostages. Because they wanted to hide the traces of their atrocities from the international delegation and journalists who arrived at that time in the war zone. The radio intelligence service of the Ministry of National Security of Azerbaijan recorded the text of this radio conversation between the commanders of the Armenian military units on April 6-7, 1993...

My silence, when I looked into the tear-stained eyes of my interviewee, hung on my conscience like a heavy stone... In the hope of someday climbing this stone together with him…

Author: Vusala Mammadova