Janja
Like any river, the Janja weaves through the landscape, carving time, destiny, and imagination. Flowing through northeastern Bosnia and Herzegovina, it tells the story of the land, its people, and the rhythms of nature. For centuries, it was more than water—it was a lifeline.
The river sustained communities, nourished fields, and offered joy to those who gathered along its banks. Children learned to swim in its waters, cattle grazed nearby, and farmers depended on it for crops. The Janja was trusted and celebrated. This began to change in the late 1970s with the construction of the Ugljevik power plant, a major industrial project that reshaped the river’s destiny.
In the early 1980s, to accommodate the plant, Janja’s flow was diverted. Its ecosystem—once teeming with fish, plants, and wildlife began to deteriorate. The river, once vibrant, became altered and diminished.
Stretching 53 kilometers, Janja forms the left tributary of the Drina River. Along its course, rich in cultural and historical layers, the river temporarily changes its name to Modran before resuming its original identity. These name changes mirror the transformation of the river itself from a natural force to a disrupted and redefined space.
My journey along Janja is a reflection of its evolving relationship with the land. It is an attempt to understand the river not only in terms of ecology and economy, but also in terms of culture and memory. To grasp its fate, we must listen carefully to the murmur of its waters and to the stories they carry. Only then can we feel the sorrow or peace that comes with saying goodbye at its end.
In every detail of the natural beauty along the banks of the river Janja, a story is revealed, Thursday, December 12, 2024. The plant appears to be a wild rose species, likely from the Rosa genus. The compound leaves (with serrated edges), along with their arrangement and the slightly woody, thorny stem, are characteristic of wild rose shrubs. In northeastern Bosnia and Herzegovina, Rosa canina is a plausible identification, as it is widespread throughout Europe, especially in hedgerows and forest edges.
Water moves us, guiding the rhythm of every process within our being. By embracing its proper intake, you nurture the delicate balance of mind and body. Our essence is water—it forms about 60% of an adult's frame and as much as 70% of a child's, flowing through every cell of which we are made. The Janja River was once drinkable water to be cherished, quenching thirst until the end of 1980. It flows forever defiled, and its present state reflects what it has lost: part of the river that flows through the city of Ugljevik, the northeastern part of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Monday, July 11, 2022.
A local fisherman, drawn to the Janja River solely by his love for fishing, stands by its banks. Despite the river's severe pollution, his passion endures, though the bounty of fish has dwindled to near extinction. Each cast of his coming is less about the catch and more about the quiet connection to the river—a bittersweet devotion to a place that once teemed with life, now a shadow of its former self, Monday, March 6, 2023, in the village of Modran, Bosnia and Herzegovina.
As water levels drop due to increasingly rare rainfall, the once-hidden secrets of the river begin to surface on Thursday, December 12, 2024. Discarded objects now lie exposed along the shallower reaches of the Janja. The river, once a flowing mirror of life, now reflects traces of neglect and environmental stress. What was once hidden beneath its waters now tells the story of a river struggling to maintain its purity, and the remains are a stark reminder of the deep scars left by years of pollution and neglect.
A portrait of Dobrinka Perić, a woman who believes that even the Janja River carries its destiny, just as every person does, Saturday, October 15, 202, in Ugljevik, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Her fate was spoken long ago when she was still a young girl. During a visit to a woman who read fist palm, in what began as a playful jest, she was told she would marry and have one daughter. And so it came to pass. For the past 20 years, Dobrinka has lived alone as a widow. Her only daughter, Rada, lives with her husband and rarely visits. Dobrinka's gaze often drifts towards the down as though its flow mirrors her solitude, carrying untold stories and destinies downstream.
With the construction of the Ugljevik power plant in the early 1980s—now one of Bosnia and Herzegovina's largest energy producers—the first relocation of the Janja River took place, Monday, November 7, 2022. Even then, the river’s appearance, water quality, and surrounding environment began to change. A toxic wastewater reservoir from the power plant feeds into the Janja River through subterranean waterways, as the reservoir sits at a higher elevation next to it than the river’s flow. Over all these years, this has resulted in the river being permanently and chemically polluted, leaving a lasting scar on its once-pristine waters, municipality of Ugljevik, in the northeast of Bosnia and Herzegovina.
Portrait of Pero Matić, who is lying in his bed in the family home, Sunday, March 2023, at the village Obrijež, Bosni and Herzegovina. He recalls his childhood, the river Janja, and their relationship. He spent his summers by its waters, swimming, playing king - whoever knocks the giant (his peer) into the shallows first will win.
A portrait of Drago Tomić, standing amidst his orchard. The trees around him bear the scars of a fateful year, 2014, when the Janja River overflowed its banks and submerged the land he had cultivated for years by inheritance, Monday, March 6, 2023, in Ugljevik, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Yet, Drago remains rooted like the very trees he tends. His determination to restore his orchard mirrors the perseverance of the Janja itself—a river that continues its course despite the challenges imposed upon it.
A wild stretch of the Janja River, untouched by urbanization, where nature reigns supreme, Monday, November 7, 2022. Her, the river flows freely, carving its path through the land. Its waters are small meanders on whose banks, forming shapes and patterns only nature's hand could sculpt.
A portrait of Jovo Dragić, his weathered face illuminated by memories of sunlit summer days spent herding cattle in the fields by the Janja River, Sunday, November 27, 2022. His eyes, deep and thoughtful, reflect a time when life was simple and the river was full of joy. After the cattle were led to drink the cool waters, he and the other children would leap into the river, as he recalls his brother, the fearless one, who was the best at jumping from the towering poplar trees that lined the riverbank. Jovo remembers the countless times he drank directly from the Janja River, its water once crystal clear and refreshing, photographed in the village of Prokos, northeast of Bosnia and Herzegovina.
In the past, the Janja River would freeze over in its shallowest sections during the cold winters, Wednesday, January 25, 2023. These icy patches became natural skating rinks for the children of the nearby villages. Their laughter would fill the crisp air as they glided across the frozen surface, turning the river into a playground of joy and adventure. The ice, fragile yet enchanting, reflected the magic of simpler times when the river was not just a source of life but also a source of delight.
A portrait of Brano Petrović, a man whose home stands on what was once the old path of the Janja River, Sunday, March 5, 2023. Between the two world wars, the river’s frequent flooding caused immense damage to the surrounding land. At that time, the Janja split into two branches before reuniting further downstream, creating havoc with every heavy rain. Brano recalls the stories told by his elders of a monumental effort by the entire region—an unprecedented gathering of people—to redirect the river into a single course. Together, they filled the secondary channel, reshaping the river and the land. Today, Brano’s house rests on that reclaimed ground, a quiet witness to the determination of a community that came together to tame nature, photographed in the village of Priboj, the northern part of Bosnia and Herzegovina.
In the past, the Janja River would freeze over in its shallowest sections during the cold winters, Wednesday, January 25, 2023. These icy patches became natural skating rinks for the children of the nearby villages. Their laughter would fill the crisp air as they glided across the frozen surface, turning the river into a playground of joy and adventure. The ice, fragile yet enchanting, reflected the magic of simpler times when the river was not just a source of life but also a source of delight.
A portrait of Ana and Nina Manojlović, twin sisters, seated in their family home that turns its back to the Janja River, Saturday, December 10, 2022. For teenagers with modern interests, their connection to the river is faint, a relic of stories rather than experience. They cannot recall ever spending time by its banks, as the Janja has become unrecognizable—its once-inviting waters are now a source of unease. Their home is a blend of memory and change. Through the window behind them, the silhouette of an old railway bridge comes into view. Once traversed by the narrow-gauge train, Ćiro, it carried loads of coal from the Ugljevik mines, a symbol of industry and progress in its time. The train ceased its journey in the early 1970s, and the bridge now serves as a pedestrian crossing for locals moving between the river’s two sides.
A portrait of Cican Dragić, a man whose story intertwines tragedy, survival, and the vivid memories of simpler times by the Janja River, Sunday, November 27, 2020. At the end of the Bosnian civil war in 1995, desperation led him to fish using a hand grenade, a dangerous practice born out of necessity. He would detonate the grenade in the water, stunning or killing the fish, which he would then collect downstream in the shallow waters. The grenade failed to sink properly and exploded at the surface, injuring him. Despite his wounds, Cican managed to seek medical help and survive. As a child, Cican remembers those waters very differently. Summer Sundays were spent at the same spot with his grandfather, who would bury his aching limbs in the warm riverbank sand to soothe his rheumatism.
A serene detail unfolds in the fields near the Janja River as the land rests in quiet preparation for the next planting season, Monday, March 6, 2023. The soil, dark with moisture, holds the promise of new growth. Furrows slowly crisscross the field, a testament to human care and the timeless rhythm of agriculture. In this peaceful moment, the fields wait, poised to begin their cycle of renewal as nature and humanity continue their enduring partnership. The Janja waits its turn, it seems to hold its breath, lingering in the shadows of its former vitality, yearning for renewal. Its waters carry stories of life and loss, of abundance and decline, as it winds its way through fields and forests, villages and towns.
Mitar Simikić
Mitar Simikić is a documentary photographer from Bosnia and Herzegovina. He is affiliated with the VII photoagency through the VII Mentor program. Mitar’s work has been awarded the VID Grant financial prize, the Sarajevo Photography festival award, and the Rovinj Photodays festival award.
Additionally, his projects were recognized by the The Everyday Project grants, the Felix Schoeller Photo Award, the Kranj Foto Fest international photography festival, the Oko Photo Festival in Bohinj (Slovenia), the Kolga Tbilisi Photo contest (Georgia), and the Press Photo Serbia contest. Mitar participated in the VII Masterclass as the recipient of the VII Academy scholarship and the Inside>>Out Magnum scholarship.
His work has been featured in numerous publications worldwide and has been showcased at various festivals and exhibitions. Simikić is an assistant professor at the Department of Photography of the Academy of Arts in Novi Sad (Serbia).