Kotezi, a small village between Ljubinje and Ravno. Bathed in the Herzegovinian sun, built in stone. The landscape is dominated by Mediterranean low forests and vegetation on the surrounding hills.

The village has a rich history, as evidenced by its stone walls.

“Kotezi was first mentioned in the Dubrovnik archives in 1335. Only one or two other villages have an older recorded history. For example, in the Middle Ages, a caravan route passed through here to Bosnia and back. Down here, there is a fortress, a concept that dates back even before Illyrian times, to the Bronze or Iron Age,” says historian Ivan Kukrika.

Before World War II, the village had around 500 inhabitants. After the war, about 300 remained. At that time, almost everyone left “in search of a livelihood.” Among them was Ivan Kukrika, who speaks proudly of his village. Fifty years ago, life took him to Ilijas and Sarajevo for schooling, and in Dubrovnik, he found a job and started a family.

The oldest resident in this village is Andjelko Kukrika. Besides him, two elderly women live in the village, but they stay with relatives in Dubrovnik during the winter. Andjelko fondly recalls life in Kotezi.

“The late Adem Burina and my late father spent every summer and every evening right here, sipping rakija and talking. In 1957, I finished high school in Dubrovnik and wanted to enroll in the Faculty of Civil Engineering. My late father couldn’t afford to give me even a single dinar a month because he had nothing. One evening, he told Adem: ‘My Adem, I have a problem.’ Adem asked: ‘What is it, Ivko?’ My father said: ‘The boy wants to go to university, but I can’t support him.’ Adem listened and replied: ‘Ivko, I can’t say anything now, but in five days, I’m going to Sarajevo, and I’ll let you know.’ Ten days later, I received a letter: ‘Let the boy come to Sarajevo and enroll in university. I have secured him a scholarship.’ And that’s why this place is where my journey into the world began,” says Andjelko Kukrika, a resident of Kotezi.

This story testifies to the friendship among neighbors. Even though the turmoil of war did not spare this village, the neighbors protected one another.

“In our childhood, we went to school together – Ismet, Salkan, Pero, Risto, and us. We always knew that one day of the year we would be at the Burinas’ house eating baklava. That was Bajram. The next day, we would be at Risto’s and Pero’s eating ‘ustipci‘, and on the third day, they would come to our house. That’s how we lived and cooperated. As far as I know, and based on my parents’ stories, there was never any conflict between these three religious communities. We had relationships that have been maintained to this day,” Andjelko Kukrika explained.

Kotezi is home to the oldest mosque in this part of Herzegovina, the Mujo Kotezlija‘s Mosque. It was damaged during World War II, and both Muslim and Catholic villagers participated in its restoration.

“In 1878, there was the so-called Bosnian-Herzegovinian (BiH) Uprising, and at that time, many Muslims lived in the village. Due to various circumstances, they began emigrating. The owner of the land where the church now stands was a Muslim woman. Before leaving Kotezi, she bequeathed the land to her neighbors, but on the condition that a church be built there. During the war, no Muslims or Catholics harmed each other. They protected and saved one another,” Andjelko adds.

Descendants of former villagers are trying to revive Kotezi. Ivan gathers them through a Facebook group called “Glas Koteza” (The Voice of Kotezi). The village has good potential for rural tourism. One family has already built a swimming pool and offers accommodation to guests. The village comes to life on weekends when many return to their family estates.

“Things have slowly started moving. People are coming. For example, we had two consecutive Kotezi Nights, each attended by 300 – 400 people. Our wish is to at least revive the village in this way if we can’t bring back permanent residents,” says historian Ivan Kukrika.

And when everyone returns to their homes, only the oldest remain in the village.

“It’s a sad sight, but still, since I was born and raised here, I feel the best here, no matter that the village is empty. There are three dogs that bark when we arrive, and that’s it,” says Andjelko Kukrika concludes.

As long as their young descendants do not forget their roots, Kotezi will come to life at least a few days a week.