Jasmine was rejected by her Sarajevo family for becoming Christian: ‘You killed our mother’
17-07-2025
Southern Europe
Annelien Wijma, RD
A man and woman walk at Bare cemetery in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Photo EPA, Fehim Demir
Southern Europe
She leans in, and her wrinkly hand shoots forward. Roughly, she closes her hand around my throat. I flinch and recoil. Her eyes are dull, and she stares at me sadly, slowly withdrawing her hand.
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Distraught, the old woman searches for words. “He tried to choke me because he didn’t want me to talk about Jesus”, she says.
It is Sunday morning in Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH). The service at the Christian Baptist Church in BiH has just ended. Churchgoers gather to meet and discuss the service on a sunny morning in June.
Gift
In the cool shade, an elderly woman sits gazing at the mountains behind the city. I walk slowly towards her, and she looks up. “Do you speak English?” I ask. She holds her index finger and thumb a bit apart. “Little bit.” Her voice is high-pitched, and her hands shake with age.
“You must be the oldest woman in this church”, I begin the conversation. “Yes.” “And what is your name?” “Jasmine.” Jasmine means “gift from God”, I ponder.
“That’s where God saved me! There, in the church.”
She tells me that she has attended church for over 50 years. “It was a small church at first, but after the civil war in 1995, the congregation quickly grew.”
Sarajevo is a city where different religions live together, though most of the population is Muslim, I recall. Cautiously, I ask if she was always a Christian. “I used to be Muslim”, Jasmine explains. “At a young age, I attended an English course. There, I met a Christian woman. I saw that she was different from other people. She was so friendly and happy.”
“She invited me to go to church with her. That was forbidden by the communist rulers at the time. I then asked her, shocked, “Does your husband know about that?” She smilingly replied that her husband was the pastor of the church. I was still thinking: how is that possible?
The woman asked me if I had ever read the Bible. “No, I never read it”, I said. She then gave me the Bible as a gift. From then on, I went to church secretly. That’s where God saved me! There, in the church.”
Fire
“I started reading the Bible”, Jasmine continues. “One day, my father showed my mother the books I was reading on Christianity. As a Muslim, I was absolutely not allowed to read these books. My mother was so shocked that she had a heart attack. The ambulance picked her up, but she was beyond saving.”
“Your mother had a heart attack because she was so shocked that you were reading the Bible?” I ask incredulously. “Yes”, she says softly. “My sister said to me, “You killed our mother.”
So, I decided to give the Bible back to the woman. She then read me from the Bible 1 Corinthians 3 verse 13: “Every man’s work shall be made manifest; for the day shall declare it, as it is discovered by fire; and what manner of work every man’s work is, the fire shall try.””
“It was the Son, I knew it. The person was Jesus!”
“They prayed for me a lot after that”, Jasmine continues. “One night, I had a dream. I saw the Son.” She shoots up and looks up joyfully at the clear blue sky, stretching far across the mountains and the city. “It was the Son, I knew it. The person was Jesus!” Her eyes fill with tears. “He was very gentle, and I became so incredibly happy. I decided to stay with Him.”
“How old were you when you decided to stay with Him?” “I was 29, and I have stayed with Him ever since.”
Family
In my mind, I wonder if she would still be in touch with her family. After a moment’s hesitation, I decide to ask anyway. “Do you still speak to your family?” She looks at me sadly again. “No”, she whispers. “They didn’t accept that I became a Christian. My brother was ferociously against Christianity.”
She leans in, and her wrinkly hand shoots forward. She closes her hand roughly around my throat. I flinch and recoil. Her eyes are dull, and she stares at me sadly, slowly withdrawing her hand. Distraught, she searches for words. “He tried to choke me because he didn’t want me to talk about Jesus.”
Suddenly, she starts beaming. “But I have no more fear because Jesus gives me strength! I still pray for my brother and will continue to do so.”
I gently take her thin, wrinkly hand. “Miracles still happen, Jasmine. In young age, but also in old age. There is still hope for him”, I say softly. She squeezes my hand and nods slowly. “Yes”, she whispers.
This article was translated by CNE.news and published by the Dutch daily Reformatorisch Dagblad on July 3, 2025
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