Shemsa Hajo

I'm a mining technician. I am Shemsa Hadzo from Breza.

I have been in the mine since I was 19 years old. I didn't know what a mine was or what a pit was. But here, a man gets used to it with age. I feel at home in the mine. I never had any fears. Thank God, I never had an accident.

I wake up at 5am and go out into the yard to milk my only cow. I make my own nescafe from freshly milked milk, drink coffee alone and in silence, and then get ready for work.

At 6.30 I’m at work. Instead of 'Good morning', 'Good day' and 'Goodbye', I say 'Good luck' to my colleagues, a traditional mining greeting before going down into the pit and when you meet someone in the dark of the mine. I put on a dark blue work suit, put on a heavy helmet and a lamp, tied an old metal box with an emergency mask around my waist, and put on rubber boots. The boots are too soft to protect me if something falls hard on my feet.

At 7 o'clock with the first shift I descend 250 meters deep into the ground and then even deeper on foot. Through dark corridors, the smell of sulfur, changes in temperature, mud, occasional gusts of breeze that bring air from outside and reflections of shiny coal.

I am an explosives publisher and my ‘office’ is in a hallway full of explosives. On average, about 200 kilograms of explosives are consumed daily in the mine. Sometimes I go about 15 kilometers underground, never without at least 5.6 kilograms of load. After 3 decades of working in the mine, I was left with permanent knee pain.

But I'm not relieved at home either. I cook, prepare, clean, dig the garden, take care of the cow. I raised my son while working in all three shifts at the mine. But I'm not complaining. I know that the job in the mine is better than most jobs in Breza. I earn three times more than I work in a store, I have more vacation and I don't work overtime, while in private companies they know how to work 12 hours a day.

However, if you ask me, I will say that I am sorry that I did not go to medical high school. The medical officer was in the capital Sarajevo, 27 kilometers away, and my mother did not want me to leave home. It was necessary to have money for transportation or housing in Sarajevo. And it was not appropriate for a young girl, as it was thought at the time, to be alone in a big city.

In the year when I started high school, a new school opened in Breza. That's how I got to the bowels of the earth. It all started in 1980 with the first generation of the Mining and Geological Technical School.

I am the first but by gods and last generation of women who earn their bread deep underground.

English version:

I am Semsa Hadzo from Breza. I'm a coal mining engineer. I have been in the mine since I was 19.

I didn't know what coal mine was or what a pit was. But here, we get used to it with the time. I feel at home in the mine. I never have any fears. Thank God, I never had an accident. I wake up at 5am and go to milk my only cow. I make my own Nescafe from fresh milk, drink coffee alone, in silence, and then I get ready for work.

At 6.30 I'm at work. Instead of 'Good morning', 'Good day' and 'Goodbye', I say 'Good luck' to colleagues. It's a traditional mining greeting before going down into the mine.

I put on a dark blue work suit, put on a heavy helmet and a lamp, tie an old metal box with an emergency mask around my waist, and I put on my rubber boots. The boots are too soft to protect me if something falls on my feet. At 7 o'clock, I go 250 meters deep into the ground and then even deeper. Through the dark corridors, I smell of sulfur, changes in temperature, mud, occasional gusts of breeze that bring air from outside and reflections of shiny coal.

I am an explosive person, and my 'office' is in a hallway full of explosives. On an average, about 200 kilograms of explosives are consumed daily in the mine. Sometimes I go about 15 kilometers underground, never without at least 5.6 kilograms of load. After 3 decades of working in the mine, I was left with permanent knee pain. But I'm not relieved at home either. I cook, prepare, clean, dig the garden, take care of the cow. I raised my son while working in all three shifts at the coal mine. But I'm not complaining. I know that the job in the mine is better than most jobs in Breza. I earn three times more than I work in a store. I have more vacation and I don’t work overtime, while in private companies they work 12 hours a day.

But if you ask me, I will say that I am sorry that I did not go to medical high school. The school was in the capital Sarajevo, 27 kilometers away, and my mother did not want me to leave home. We didn't have the money for transportation and housing in Sarajevo. And it was not appropriate for a young girl to be alone in a big city.

In the year when I started high school, a new school opened in Breza. That's how I got to the bowels of the earth. It all started in 1980 with the first generation of the Mining and Geological Technical School. I am the first but by all means, the last generation of women who earn their bread deep underground.