On October 4, 2025, the small village of Jablanica in southern Bosnia paused to remember a tragedy that, even a year later, continues to haunt every corner and every family. The somber anniversary marked twelve months since devastating floods and a landslide tore through the village, killing 19 people and leaving dozens more forever changed. For many, life in Jablanica will simply never be the same.
“It’s all deserted, it’s not like it was before,” resident Adisa Maslo told the Associated Press during the remembrance ceremonies. Her words echoed the feelings of many who gathered on that Saturday, united by loss and the shared memory of a disaster that arrived with terrifying speed and left devastation in its wake.
Jablanica was the hardest hit of four municipalities in central and southern Bosnia ravaged by torrential rains and flash floods on October 4, 2024. According to the Associated Press, the storms swallowed roads and bridges, and the overall death toll across the region climbed to 26. But it was Jablanica, nestled at the base of a hill crowned by a quarry, that bore the brunt of nature’s fury.
In the space of a few minutes, mud and rocks descended from the quarry, virtually burying parts of the village. Residents recalled a thunderous roar—an ominous warning—before people, cars, and entire houses were swept away. The destruction was so sudden and so complete that survivors have struggled to come to terms with what happened, and with what was lost.
For families like the Maslos, the pain is personal and ongoing. Adisa and her husband Emir recounted to the Associated Press how their daughter-in-law narrowly escaped death in the surging mud, but lost her baby in the chaos. Their own home was completely destroyed. “We have been promised a new one at the edge of the village,” Adisa said, but the promise of a new house does little to fill the void left by the disaster.
Others carry even heavier burdens. Fata Jasarevic, now 70 years old, lost four family members in the landslide. She was among dozens who gathered at the Jablanica cemetery for a collective prayer on the anniversary, a moment to honor the victims and seek some measure of solace. “There is nothing left but sadness and sorrow,” she said. Her grief is compounded by a sense of abandonment. “No one came to ask how we are. As if no one had died.”
What caused such devastation? That question lingers in Jablanica and beyond. Authorities have opened an investigation to determine responsibility for the scale of the tragedy, but according to the Associated Press, the probe has yet to yield any results. Many Bosnians, including residents of Jablanica, point the finger at rampant exploitation of natural resources and deforestation. The nearby quarry, whose rocks and mud cascaded down the hill, has become a symbol of the dangers posed when environmental safeguards are ignored or neglected.
Deforestation and aggressive quarrying are not new issues in Bosnia. Environmental groups have long warned that stripping hillsides of their trees and stability increases the risk of landslides, especially when heavy rains hit. The disaster in Jablanica has renewed calls for stricter regulations and more responsible management of natural resources, but for those who lost loved ones, such debates offer little comfort.
The scale of the destruction in Jablanica was almost unimaginable. Survivors described how the mudslide arrived with little warning, a thunderous noise followed by chaos. Entire families were swept away in their homes, cars disappeared under waves of mud and debris, and the village itself was left scarred and hollow. The emotional wounds are just as deep. As Adisa Maslo put it, the village is deserted—its spirit, for now, seems lost.
On the anniversary, prayers and remembrance ceremonies brought the community together, if only briefly. Dozens gathered at the cemetery, standing among the fresh graves of neighbors, friends, and relatives. The rituals offered a chance to mourn collectively, to share grief that, for much of the past year, has felt isolating and overwhelming.
Yet, for some, the sense of abandonment lingers. Fata Jasarevic’s words—“No one came to ask how we are. As if no one had died”—reflect a wider frustration with official responses. While the investigation continues, and while promises of new homes have been made, many residents feel that their suffering has been overlooked or forgotten by those in power.
Meanwhile, the physical scars of the disaster remain visible. Parts of Jablanica are still buried under mud and rocks, and the landscape itself has been altered. Some families, like the Maslos, have been forced to start over at the edge of the village, their old lives swept away with the floodwaters. Others have left altogether, unable to face the memories or rebuild in a place so marked by loss.
The tragedy in Jablanica is a stark reminder of the dangers posed by extreme weather and environmental mismanagement. As climate change increases the frequency and intensity of storms across Europe, small communities like Jablanica are often the most vulnerable. The events of October 4, 2024, may have been triggered by a natural disaster, but the human choices that shaped the landscape—and the official responses since—are now under scrutiny.
For now, Jablanica endures. The anniversary brought back memories both painful and precious, and for a moment, the village’s scattered community came together to remember, to grieve, and to hope for a future where such a tragedy might be prevented. The wounds are still raw, but the act of remembrance is, in its own way, an act of resilience.
As the sun set on Jablanica’s cemetery, the prayers faded, but the questions remain. Who, if anyone, will be held responsible? Will the promises of new homes and better protections be kept? And will the village ever feel whole again? For now, the answers are uncertain, but the determination of Jablanica’s residents to honor their lost and rebuild their lives is clear for all to see.
