Tuzla, Bosnia, June 8: Bosfam was created in 1993 by Beba Hadzic, who was head of the Srebrenica Primary School until she was expelled in 1992. For two years Bosfam trained displaced Bosnian women from Eastern Bosnia in weaving and knitting.

Bosfam’s work expanded exponentially after the 1995 Srebrenica massacre, when thousands of distraught women and children were expelled to Tuzla while their menfolk were being slaughtered.

Knitting is therapeutic for traumatized women refugees, and Bosfam was much in demand after the massacre. Beba Hadzic, the Bosfam director, reckons that Bosfam had projects in 44 refugee collective centers – 14 in Tuzla alone – and provided comfort to thousands of women. Donors were grateful, and Bosfam turned to more sophisticated products, like the traditional carpets (kilims) which AP has been exhibiting in the United States. The UK paid for new looms. USAID and UNHCR even put up funds for a new weaving center in Tuzla, which Bosfam now owns. Bosfam house is set in a leafy side street and is spacious enough to hold several large looms, offices, a shop, a store house and a meeting room. It has an air of comfortable permanence.

There’s just one problem: Bosfam was created to cater to refugees. Those refugees now need to go home or build a new life.

As the fury of the Bosnian conflict has receded, humanitarian aid has dried up, depriving Bosfam of its main source of income. Even NATO can’t be relied upon. Bosfam has a small concession stand at the nearby US Army (“Eagle”) base, and it has sold souvenirs to departing SFOR troops. But the US is drawing down its Bosnian contingent, and the current crop are from the state of Indiana. For some reason they’re stingier than other states. Last month, Bosfam only sold 20 dollars worth of knitted products at Eagle Base.

Nura (left) and Beba Hadzic, at the Bosfam center in Tuzla.

At the same time, Bosfam is rich in assets: it can draw on over 300 skilled women weavers and knitters, in Tuzla and Srebrenica, has a stock of truly gorgeous carpets, and a dedicated staff that is prepared to work without pay.

Somehow these assets have to be turned into a sustainable business that brings in an income to the weavers, and helps refugees return to Srebrenica, instead of condemning them to permanent exile here in Tuzla. That’s the challenge facing Pia.

It won’t be easy. As we leave the office, one of the weavers, Nura, is still working at her loom, plucking away at a deep rich blue weave. The color is beautiful, the rhythm is mesmerizing, and Nura (a tiny, waif-like figure who lost her husband in the massacre) is at peace, in a world of her own.

The only problem is, no one has ordered this carpet. Once made, it will join the growing pile in the warehouse, waiting for a buyer.