At the Sarajevo pool before Eid, Sara gives up her longed-for quiet lane so another girl can try the deep end, then quietly keeps practising in the shallow water as the adhan drifts over the old city walls.
Narrated by Layla · 12:41
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A glimpse inside
In the old walled quarter of Sarajevo, Sara’s fingers slipped on the wet pool edge.
She kicked hard but did not let go.
Blue tiles slid under her hands. The water beside her was dark and deep. High above, roof windows shone with late afternoon light.
“Just three more strokes, Sara!” called Amir, the swim coach. His whistle bounced on his chest.
From the benches, Nana cupped her hands. “Slow arms, my bird!” she said. “Breathe and look at me.”
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