And no, time does not heal wounds. You learn to become stronger and to fight your way through life. I miss you Armela, I miss you, your presence, your being, your beautiful voice, your infectious laughter. I miss your nearness and warmth, your affectionate hugs and even your nasty moods. Every minute, every hour, every day, more and more, and it doesn’t get easier. It hurts not having you near me, and this pain is deep, so deep, Armela, and I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how I can continue, I don’t know whether I will ever be able to love this life again.

Death always seemed so far away to me. It seems like it was yesterday to me when we lay in bed together and exchanged secrets. You were my refuge, you were the single spot I aimed at for myself. Armela, I miss you when I get angry, because you would have understood me and I could get advice from you. I miss you when I laugh and cry, because I know you would have laughed with me and shared my tears with me, but most of all I miss you at night, when I realize that the space next to me is empty.





I just wish I could walk on the clouds, see you in your world and embrace you, hold you tight and never let go, tell you how I love you, Armela, infinitely.

You always gave me the feeling that I was enough for you. How I was, was perfect for you. You didn’t want more from me than what I was. For you I was your sister, who you showed, just by your presence, that you loved her. Loved her unconditionally. Ever since you left us, I miss that person who gives me this feeling that it’s OK how I am and how I deal with it. Whether grief or joy, I have the feeling that I cannot please anyone, and I don’t want to feel that anymore. Proving to people that I am sad, proving to people that I am no longer the person I once was, that I have to struggle with myself. But maybe it’s simply the fact that I am looking for a feeling that no one, apart from you, can give me. No one knows what it is like to stand in front of your grave, to read your name, and to realize that you are no longer there.







I lie in bed at night and weep, I can’t hold your hand anymore while I sleep, I have this emptiness in me and no one can fill this hole. Perhaps I don’t show it, but it hurts. The suffering never ends and I have to live with it. I don’t want to live with it. I really don’t know what motivates me, because I feel that I don’t have any motivation. But then I remember that every day that passes brings me closer to the day that I will see you again. I know we will see each other again. Although you are not here anymore, I talk about you with a lot of pride, as though you had never left us, and do it again and again. Today, tomorrow, until I am together with you again.

I love you, my angel, and I know that you will continue to give me the strength to overcome all of this sadness and grief. You are always with me, with us, Armela. I will love you until my last breath.





Can was born on November 5, 2001, in the Munich district of Moosach. He was the darling of our family, always the center of attention. As his older brother and as his parents we strove to teach him love, family values, and compassion. Can was the most treasured part of our lives, every moment with him gave meaning to our lives. Can was very happy to be with us and that we were his family. He even expressed his fondness in a letter that he wrote in second grade:

This letter is now exhibited in a travelling exhibition.





Since our jobs did not allow us to spend time together during the week, we used the weekends to play with him. He always said, “Mama, can we have a family evening together?” His favorite game was Monopoly. We never refused when he wanted to play and always played with him. Since that day we have not played games anymore and with his departure these family evenings turned into a true and endless darkness.

Can was talented in sports as a child and his life revolved around soccer. His passion for soccer was kindled when he was very young and led to him being chosen for a soccer academy out of 2500 children. Can was in eighth grade. His interest in soccer was so great that he knew almost all of the soccer players. His greatest dream was to become a professional soccer player like Ronaldo. “When one day I become a soccer player and score a goal, then I will shout out on the field: ‘That’s for my mom’,” he promised. When he spoke about this dream his eyes lit up and his joy warmed our hearts.



We will never forget you, Dimo. My personal task will be to keep the memory of you alive. You live in us, you have only gone somewhere else, you continue to live and walk through our dreams.

When you, my dear fellow human beings, on a beautiful sunny day take a walk in the Schlosspark, then think about him briefly. If you should have to stand and wait a bit longer for the train, please smile briefly up to him, it will make him happy.

In memory of Dijamant Zabërgja, born on August 24, 1995, and turned into an angel on July 22, 2016.















Seven years later M. Zabërgja wrote a poem for her brother on the anniversary of the shooting. She and her sister recited the poem on July 22, 2023, during the municipal commemoration ceremony at the monument for the victims opposite the Olympia Einkaufszentrum.

My name is Gisela Kollmann. I am the grandmother of Guiliano Kollmann, who was murdered for racist and far-right motives on July 22, 2016. I was the first person to hold Guiliano in her arms. Guili, as we lovingly called him in our family, was delivered by Cesarean section. His father was too nervous to stay in the operation room. But I was there. As soon as Guili was removed from his mother’s belly the midwife wrapped him in a green blanket and put him in my hands.

My Guiliano was a well-behaved baby. He spent a lot of time with me then. After he turned three he lived with me. Until he died. I went through his kindergarten period with him, his time at school, his apprenticeship. Through the good days and the difficult days. On the good days I often took him to the youth center around the corner, called “Die Kiste [The Box].” He spent many happy hours there. With his friends. They wrote hip-hop songs. Even with very famous rappers like Farid Bang. Sinto 2000 was his artistic name. He was proud of his Sinto heritage.

Twenty minutes before the shooting Guiliano Kollmann changed his WhatsApp status. Since he liked to rap, he often wrote down lines. This line was probably the last one from Sinto 2000:

When he was younger, Guiliano loved to play soccer. At first, here in the local club in Feldmoching. He always called it Feldknoching! [playing on the word Knochen, German for bone] Then he was spotted by the Munich club 1860 München. They invited him to a special practice session. When he was eight or nine. For a year he went to practice two or three times a week and on the weekends there were games of course. At that time it was his great dream to become a soccer player. That is why I am very happy that the 1860 München club now has honored and commemorated him. For father and son those years of soccer and intensive practice sessions were naturally something special. They travelled as far away as Austria to play in different games.

The dream of becoming a professional soccer player was unfortunately shattered. Guiliano had diabetes. This cost him a lot of energy and was not easy. Guiliano was 1.95 meters tall, his shoe size was 46. Due to the illness he was very thin. Before he was diagnosed he only weighed less than fifty kilograms. It was difficult. To have such a serious illness when so young. He went through a lot for such a young person. Those were his difficult days. On those days I had to accompany him through his illness.

SUNAY He practiced kickboxing and wanted to become a professional. Once, when he was practicing he was asked if he would like to play the role of a boxer in a film. He rejected the offer. For his dream of becoming a pro. He told me:

Shortly before the shooting he registered for his first tournament. Though he was seventeen, he was supposed to fight against thirty-year-olds, on account of the weight class. That didn’t bother him. He really wanted to get into the ring. He carried his boxing gloves everywhere with him. After practicing we continued to box in our room. He taught me how to hold the paws against him, so that he could practice at home. I bought some gloves and then we practiced. So many evenings. Even in Greece, when we travelled there to our homeland. He was totally motivated, especially for sports. After practice he would continue training. Now and then, Gülfer was used at home as a dumbbell.

(The siblings laugh)



As a small boy he even hid behind the sofa with the entire package of them, to eat them alone. Sometimes, he also took the snacks from his sister. When I asked him once, “Hüseyin, why are you eating your sister’s Fruchtzwerge?” he answered, “Mama, she is too small, she’ll never finish them.” (Nayde laughs) He always wanted to be at the front. He always made us laugh with his constant pranks and jokes. Later Hüseyin was also the more open character.

GÜLFER Hüseyin got along with everyone. He had a lot of friends.

NAYDE A group of friends from his school put together a memorial book and brought it to us. Even when he was just an adolescent, he loved children. He told me that although he didn’t want to get married, he would like to have children.

GÜLFER (She has a child and is expecting a second one) He would have been a fantastic uncle.



YASEMIN He celebrated his last birthday at home with over twenty friends. He wanted very much to celebrate at home. As parents we left our apartment to him and were out until midnight. (Yasemin laughs) We did a lot of crazy things with him. Especially in 2016, shortly before the shooting. For example, we got into our BMW, I got behind the steering wheel, we put on the music extra loud, and drove through our neighborhood. Selçuk was very handsome. Beautiful. He was big. Strong and athletic. He loved to wear his hair long. He tied it up in a braid. He wore an earring. His dream was to someday get a tattoo of a lion. He was very careful with his appearance. It was important for him to leave home well-groomed.

ENGIN He was a mother’s son. What I mean is that he always protected his mother. And she couldn’t stand a night without him being there.

YASEMIN We are so sorry that on that particular day we couldn’t be there, that we couldn’t protect you.

Yasemin Kılıç addresses some words directly to her son Selçuk:

MMy dear first-born child,

The first time I held you in my arms my heart was full of joy and gratitude. You were my light, my pride, and my greatest happiness. Through your eyes I saw the world with new hope and confidence. Each moment that we spent together is engraved in my memory—from your first steps to your last words. You were not only my child, my confidant, my greatest teacher. You showed me what unconditional love means and filled my life with so much joy and love. Your smile was my melody and your embraces were my home.

It hurts me so deeply that you left us so prematurely. My heart is broken and my spirit is confused. Yet in my grief I sense your nearness and your love, which comforts and strengthens me. You were my sunshine, my pride, and my greatest joy. I bear the memory of the time we spent together deep in my heart and it consoles me in these dark times. I remember all the happy moments that we shared, and hold on tightly to them, to support me in the difficult moments. You will always have a special place in my heart, my dear first-born child. Your legacy will live on in the love and in the memories that you left behind.

May you rest in peace and may your spirit always watch over us.

On the occasion of Sevda’s fifty-third birthday Hacı and his sons wrote this open letter to Sevda:

My dear wife Sevda,

Today is your birthday and you are not here. It is impossible to express this grief in words. We miss you very much. With every breath we remember you.

You were not only a wife, but also a loving mother, a bright star that showed us the right path, and a source of inspiration and strength for us. Your love, your joy, and your laughter lit up our house. We feel your warmth and your presence in every moment.

We would have liked to share every moment of our lives with you. We would have liked that you saw how your sons have grown up and achieved success. But fate was inevitable and took you away from us. On your birthday we think of you with love and longing. We hope that you are in a peaceful and happy place. We miss you very much. You will always be in our hearts.

In love, Your husband Hacı and your sons Koray and Sedat





Oh, if you were only with us. How much we miss you, With indescribable longing.

I cannot get used to life without you. The emptiness of your absence is never filled, My grief is always still fresh. One day we will surely meet In that heavenly corner, Till then, rest in peace, my dearest, Next to the angels.

Your love illuminated my days. Now my heart is shrouded in darkness. Is it possible to forget you? I search for you every moment, I miss you everywhere.

This poem is dedicated to you, my dearest. I have written each word with my tears. I hope you like it and it comforts you a bit. I will love you always. Do not forget that you are always in my heart. This love will never end.