On the day that Bosnian Serb authorities finally moved to remove the word "genocide" from the memorial plaque commemorating the mass killing of Muslims in Visegrad in 1992, Bakira Hasecic woke up early, along with a few other women.
She had stayed overnight in the house she still owns in the eastern Bosnian town, although she now lives in Sarajevo. The morning was brisk but not particularly cold, a rarity in those January days.
Their intention was to stop what they saw as desecration of the memorial. They were too late.
When she arrived at the Straziste Muslim cemetery, 150 police in riot gear were lined up along the road, some shaking off the crisp mountain air, others laughing at her.
Visibly distressed and with her legs shaking, Bakira hurried to cover the gravestones bearing the names of Serb war criminals Milan and Sredoje Lukic and T-shirts printed with the names of those who died.
A local woman discreetly wrote "genocide" back on the memorial in lipstick. The word had once been chiselled into the stone.
Divided into two regions along ethnic lines, the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina and the Bosnian Serb Republic, this nation has effectively been frozen in time from when the bitter war that plagued the country was brought to an end in 1995.
But now the country is waking up. With demonstrations taking place across Bosnia against government corruption, and presidential elections later this year, there's a danger than the Bosnian Serb Republic will try to separate from Bosnia and forever cover up the past atrocities committed.
IBTimes went to Visegrad and spoke to survivors, activists and politicians, to find out why this dark stain in the country's history is being covered up, and what the current unrest around Bosnia means for the country's future.