How our Soup Kitchen gives more than a meal to the isolated elderly in Bosnia and Herzegovina

Scarred by the Bosnian War 

“The torments are hard when you are alone and sick. The nights are bitter and it seems like they’ll never pass.” 

Vasilija, 84, lives alone in Glamoc, one of the poorest areas of Bosnia and Herzegovina.  

With its cordoned-off minefields and bombed-out buildings, Glamoc still bears the impact of the Bosnian war – and most of the people who live here carry their own scars of great trauma and loss. 

Vasilija herself once enjoyed a contented life in a nearby village with her husband and two sons. Then war came, their home was burned down, and the family became refugees. Shortly afterwards, Vasilija’s husband died.

A lifeline for the elderly 

A Soup Kitchen run by Mission Without Borders has been a lifeline to Vasilija and many others. Here, elderly people living in poverty enjoy daily hot meals, friendship and Bible readings.  

Now that Vasilija can’t leave her home, Mission coordinator Blazenko brings regular food and hygiene parcels to her door. 

Vasilija said, “I'm glad when Blazenko visits me, when we talk. You are like a gift from heaven.”    

A place where all ethnicities are truly welcomed 

Over three decades after the Bosnian War, the country is still deeply divided along ethnic lines. At our Soup Kitchen in Glamoc, however, people of Bosniak, Serb and Croat backgrounds eat together, play chess together, and talk over shared hardships and hopes. 

Blazenko said, “We’ve always tried to make the Soup Kitchen a place where people won't only receive a meal, but much more than that.  

“So far, we’ve organised knitting workshops, we read the Word of God, and we encourage each other.”

A deeply divided country 

Dalibor Kojic, director of Mission Without Borders in Bosnia and Herzegovina, said, “Although the war itself has stopped, there is no real peace and reconciliation for many people.  

“The land is inhabited by lots of people who have been hurt by someone and many of them are not able to process that in a constructive way so that they can experience healing. Even after so many years, we talk about something that happened ‘before’ or ‘after the war’ and we have ‘our side’ and ‘their side’ of the cities. 

“I am encouraged to see that at our Soup Kitchen in Glamoc we see a wonderful sense of community without division. Vulnerable people, who share common hardships, have more in common than people who have the same nationality or political opinions. They are a strong voice of hope for the future generations and an example that unity in diversity is possible.”