Skejtanjeto ne e za devojcinja

It all started with an image I witnessed one day by the riverbank in Skopje, my home town. I saw a young girl skateboarding, dressed in a traditional shalwar. She was 12, a child. But in her eyes and presence I saw something else, I saw a mature woman. There was something special about her, she had this wisdom in her eyes. That image stayed with me and kept returning. I became obsessed with it, and it slowly turned into the impulse to make this film. But I was also aware that it touches on a very fragile subject, and the question was always how to approach it responsibly. I realized early on that it was essential to approach this world from within, rather than from a distance. I wasn’t interested in stylization or in repeating familiar cinematic tropes, but in creating an intimate and grounded perspective, where the characters can exist as complex, sometimes flawed individuals. I was particularly drawn to a female perspective within this environment, something I felt is rarely seen in cinema. The process itself was key. We spent a long time in Shutka (the biggest Roma settlement in Europe), working closely with the community, building trust, and allowing the film to grow out of real encounters, rather than imposing a preconceived idea. Many of the actors are non-professionals, and their presence brought a kind of emotional truth that cannot be constructed.