Before I came here all I knew about Scotland was football and Macbeth; Kosovan refugee's book reveals the harsh reality of fleeing Serb death squad.

Byline: By Annie Brown

EACH morning at dawn in the refugee camps of Macedonia, Remzije Sherifi thought of those left behind to face the Serb death squads in Kosova.

She said: "I found it hard to face each sunrise, wondering how many more people had been killed in the night.

"I realised there was only one thing that was truly important and that was to be alive."

On May 9, 1999, Remzije was on the first flight of Kosovan refugees to be sent to Scotland.

On her left breast was a small lump which the camp doctors feared could be the return of the cancer that had already claimed her right breast a couple of years before.

Eight years on, Remzije sits in an office in Glasgow, and is philosophical about the day she flew far from home.

"All that mattered was we were safe, a battle against cancer seemed nothing to the realities of a war," she said.

Remzije speaks English with a Scottish twang and talks with gratitude of the country which "gave me a second chance of life".

In a moving new book, Shadow Behind the Sun, the former radio journalist talks about the horror of the war in Kosova and how her family started again in Scotland.

She said: "The dispossessed and displaced are first of all exhausted, then life returns."

Now working with the Maryhill Integration Network in Glasgow, she has included in the book tales from asylum seekers, some similar to her own.

She wrote the book, she said, "to show that we are human. To open minds and change hearts".

Remzije was one of 145 refugees who boarded an ageing Boeing 737 in Skopje, Macedonia, destined for a country she knew little about.

Other passengers included five cancer sufferers, a 99-year-old who had never before left Kosova and a baby who had been born in no-man's land. It was only on the flight that an Albanian interpreter told them where they were going.

Remzije said: "None of us spoke English. My husband knew about Celtic and Rangers and I'd read Macbeth.

"We knew about kilts and bagpipes. I thought it snowed all the time too. That was all we knew about our destination."

But all that really mattered to Remzije and her family, was that Scotland would be safe.

In Kosova the NATO bombs were dropping and the bully boys of Slobodan Milosevic were carrying out a campaign of ethnic cleansing.

The hatred had already manifested itself some time before with ethnic Albanians being thrown out of their jobs and routinely persecuted.

And Remzije will never forget the night the Serbs reached the town of Gjilan, where they lived.

It had taken the family years to build the pretty white hillside home. It took the Serbs seconds to shatter it with their grenades.

The family had taken refuge in a neighbour's basement only five minutes before the explosions.

The "century-long" night was terrifying as the Serbs looted and slaughtered above them.

Remzije said: "We could do nothing other than huddle together, staring in to the dark and not daring to breathe."

The next morning the family emerged in to the daylight.

Remjize said: "People were walking around in a daze. My husband said there was no choice but to leave."

Their home had been badly damaged, but at least her family was unhurt. Many neighbours had not been so lucky.

Ramadan, a close friend, had volunteered to leave his own home to stay and reassure an elderly neighbour.

He was killed with a grenade.

Back at his Ramadan's own house Remjize saw his frantic children cry out: "Where's my dad?"

A few yards away Remjize's sons saw Ramadan's mutilated body spread across the floor.

She said: "They saw his limbs, flesh, skin, brain... all spilled.

"These are the horrors of war my sons will never forget. Some part of them inside had aged beyond their years."

For a month, they all lived nearby in Remzije's parents' home, crowded in a single room or in the basement.

The electricity was shut off nightly and food was scarce. Remzije even recalls a Serb shopkeeper refusing to serve her elderly mum, Salihe, groceries.

"Nothing for you Albanian, Clinton can feed you," he barked.

With every NATO airstrike came reprisals from the Serbs, and the family decided their only option was to leave for neighbouring Macedonia.

The country had offered a safe corridor and set up camps for refugees. Remzije's parents refused to go with them, saying they would rather die than leave Kosova.

On the journey, desolation greeted them. Remzije said: "Villages lay in ruins, with animals dead in the fields. I did not let myself look at the burned-out cars because of the bodies inside."

They arrived in Macedonia tired and exhausted and were placed in one of the tents in the sprawling refugee camps.

The camp was overcrowded, the basic toilets stank and the shelter was primitive.

"I had never felt so dirty but our overpowering emotions were of relief and gratitude," said Remzije.

The relief was short-lived when she discovered a lump in her left breast. She had suffered breast cancer before and been through the gruelling ordeal of chemotherapy and a mastectomy.

Doctors in the camp decided it would be risky for her to stay, and put the family down for an emergency evacuation. A few weeks later she was being flown out.

In Prestwick more than 100 people had gathered to greet them, including social workers and interpreters.

They were taken to the Red Road flats in Glasgow and the first thing Remzije noticed were the cut flowers a neighbour had left as welcome gift.

"The feeling of being at war was at an end and we were free," said Remzije.

She attended Stobhill Hospital and an operation was carried out to remove the lump. Since then another lump has been removed and, although both were benign, the fear of her cancer returning still hangs over her.

But after a few months in the country, Remzije was allowed to return to Kosova, where she discovered her parents had survived by hiding in various neighbours' basements.

Her own pretty white house continues to this day to be used by homeless families, a thought which warms her heart.

Inevitably the family considered returning home, but Remzije's consultant advised against it.

She said: "He told me the cancer could return at any point and quick detection is essential. There is no real health infrastructure left in Kosova. He said it was too dangerous to go back."

It was a hard decision to stay but Remzije is grateful in many ways that she did. Her sons have excelled and now speak English with strong Scots accents.

One is a DJ, another a student of computing, while the third is an accomplished interior designer.

Only her husband has struggled with the transition, still missing home and the job he had there.

Remzije talks with a deep love and respect for the asylum seekers she now works with. She recognises that being a Kosovan has allowed her rights not afforded to asylum seekers.

She said: "I remember when the Serbs took away our right to work. I see that as a human right. I feel for the asylum seekers. They have such talent, it seems such a waste not to use them."

She now helps them adjust to life in Glasgow and the Maryhill Integration Project offers advice and assistance in issues such as health and housing.

She said: "I listen to their stories and it reminds me of what we went through. But in many ways it is harder for them."

The plight of the Kosovans was played out nightly on our TVs. As a result they were far more well-received than many of the other nationalities which have since come to Scotland.

To Remzije, all are welcome. She said: "I want people to understand that the hardest choice these people had to make was made for them. They were forced to flee. I want people to understand why they are here.

"I belong to Kosova but I have made a life here. Your heritage is always with you, no matter where you live, but I am grateful to Glasgow and the people here. This city means a lot to me."

Shadow Behind the Sun is published by Sandstone Press and is available from all good book shops, priced pounds 8.95.

'We could do nothing other than huddle together, staring in to the dark and daring not to breathe. My husband said there was no choice but to leave'

CAPTION(S):

ETHNIC CLEANSING: Milosevic; ON SAFE GROUND: The grateful refugees arrive at Prestwick Airport after their flight from Macedonia; NEW HOPE: Two children wait anxiously to board the plane; HOME SWEET HOME: Remzije still dreams of returning to Kosova to live PICTURE: MARK RUNNACLES