Don't speak until you learn what it's like to walk in our shoes.

Regarding inappropriate comments on social media about parents after events on Cijevna

Cijevna is fast, cold and unforgiving. We all know that who grew up with her. But these days, she has taught us a lesson that many in Montenegro still refuse to learn. While the public celebrates the unknown hero who pulled the boy out of the whirlpools – and let him celebrate, because humanity is the only thing that still holds us together – beneath the surface of that praise, the sludge of our society and politics has surfaced.

This is a response to the minister who triumphantly declares on TV: "We have fulfilled the parents' demands." I will not mention his name, because that would be unnecessary publicity; his contribution to truth is already "ripe" for the Nobel Committee, but his contribution to literature - for the best fairy tale.

​Also, this is the answer to all those "brave" keyboard warriors and know-it-alls who are wondering: "Where were the parents?"

UNMANNED FORTRESSES

As someone who spends his life on the "chessboard" of the fight for the rights of children with autism, I have to explain to you the game you don't see. A home for a child on the autism spectrum is not just a house. It's often a fortress. High concrete fences, video surveillance, double locks on the doors and windows. That's not paranoia - that's bare survival instinct.

​But the human brain is not a machine. You can have the most modern system, but life happens in those five minutes when concentration falters, when the phone rings, or when fatigue, which has accumulated over the years, simply takes its toll. The boy from Cijevna did not "walk away" because someone does not like him. He fell through a crack in the system that keeps those same parents under siege 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.

WHO GUARDS THE GUARDS?

It's easy to judge a parent who loses focus for five minutes. But let's ask the state: Where are your support services? Where are those "fulfilled requirements" that ministers dream about in their comfortable armchairs?

Where are the assistants who would enable these parents to village time to close your eyes?

​Where is the registry that would help the community recognize a wandering boy and respond before he reaches the shore?

​We, parents, are not robots. We are people who fight battles that most people are not even allowed to read about. Our children are not afraid of water, they are drawn to the river like a magnet, and they do not see the danger. This is not a lack of upbringing, this is the nature of autism.

FINAL DIAGNOSIS

To those who ask "where were the parents," my answer is short: they were in their own hell, fighting alone against a system that doesn't see them until tragedy strikes.

​The hero from Cijevna made his move – he saved a life. Now it's the system's turn to make its move, but not on television, but in reality. We don't need platitudes, empty promises and "Nobel" lies about fulfilled requirements. We need support that will ensure that those five minutes of inattention do not become a life sentence.

Because, gentlemen, as long as parents have to be doctors, security, lawyers, and therapists – every situation like this is your defeat, not theirs.

Hats off to the hero from Cijevna. And to the rest of you – silence, until you learn what it means to walk in our shoes.

The author is the father of a child on the autism spectrum.