LAD'S GRANDMOTHER

2026-07-19 07:23:00, Kulturë Agim Xhafka

LAD'S GRANDMOTHER

Trust among people is not just a three-syllable word. It contains hopes, disappointments, deceptions, claims. Full of truths and lies. And trust gives birth to love. And hope, and dreams, and joy and happiness. If you were to compare it to a forest tree, you would immediately say that the roots are trust. The leaves, which sway in a light breeze, appear as promises. While the fruits with worms inside are disappointment. In life, it often happens to us that we cling tightly to someone. Who does not deceive us, who keeps his word, who is by our side. We pray to him every time and pray many times. We move forward without doubting the decisions he will make for us. Because we trust him.

I was thinking these things while I was getting a credit card at the bank. Naturally, I had a dilemma. Don't let them copy me, don't steal my code, don't let someone go behind my back at the ATM. All of these things are alive. That humans, we learned as children, are made of water, but also of doubts. And in such an awkward moment, Nerënxa, the grandmother of Ladi, my neighbor in the building in Korça, saved me. In the building where I was born and where I lived until I went to university. But why did she specifically bother me? Why did Nerënxa with a prosthesis on her right leg, who when she went up or down the stairs made the building stand on its feet due to the noise the wood made, come to me during the credit card process. As if smiling, she said to me:

-You, boy, trusted me and didn't visit the bank!

I warmed up. At that moment I smiled at the girl who served me, took the card, and calmly left the bank. Nerënxa was Ladi's grandmother, but she was also the "mother" of our faith. She had proven herself over the years; she never lied, never cursed, never shouted, and she was there for us children. One day when some police came to take Genci to the re-education school, she confronted them. With a stick in her hand. Standing tall, ready for battle.

-We are the education school of the palace, you know! He made a mistake, kid, and you immediately call him a thug?!

There were many other cases, but the surprise happened when we were going to have a football match with the Shëndëllija neighborhood. We didn't want Zihniu, the physical education teacher who lived in the building opposite, to be the referee. He seemed biased to us. In the debate we were having, we mentioned several names who could blow the whistle on the field. I, among the many candidacies I heard, suddenly proposed:

-Let Nerënxa referee for us, bro.

Silence, then laughter.

"But grandma will run after us with a prosthesis, right?" they said, rightly so.

I was actually embarrassed, I had no way to justify it, but in my head she stood out as the most dignified. I knew she wouldn't take revenge on anyone. We needed someone like Nerënxa, we trusted our grandmother. But the wooden prosthesis was a huge roadblock that there was no way to overcome.

And a miracle happened, she heard her name and just like that, she slowly approached us.

"I'll be the referee, I'll referee from the balcony," he said and raised his head towards the palace.

She lived on the second floor. Her balcony was in line with the middle of the field. Nerënxa went up there and rang the whistle loudly.

"May the best man win," he shouted.

During the game, her attitude was emotional, but it was also a little comical. Sometimes when the whistle was not heard, because the crowd of children was screaming with enthusiasm, she would hit the balcony railings with her wooden prosthesis. Silence was instantly established, those hits were dramatic. But after the game, both teams shook hands with Grandma Nerënxë. No resentment. She later refereed several times, if she were alive today she would probably be a FIFA referee.

Faith is the root of the tree, I say, you won't find it anywhere. There, in those ropes intertwined with each other, the tree is held firmly no matter how many winds, gales, downpours and storms there are. There, peace, security and harmony have their "home". Period.