Nearly ten months after North Macedonia’s deadliest fire disaster, grief remains raw in the eastern town of Kocani, where dozens of families continue to gather daily at a cemetery row known as the “Alley of Angels,” a stark reminder of a tragedy that killed 62 people, most of them teenagers and young adults.
The trauma has resurfaced following a New Year’s fire in the Swiss resort of Crans-Montana, which many in North Macedonia say has forced them to relive their own catastrophe, according to reporting by Switzerland’s Neue Zürcher Zeitung (NZZ).
On March 16, 2025, a fire tore through the Pulse nightclub on the outskirts of Kocani during a concert by a popular North Macedonian rap duo. Video footage from inside the venue shows sparks from small pyrotechnic devices igniting the ceiling, before flames spread rapidly across soundproofing foam. Within minutes, the club was engulfed.
At least 62 people died from burns, smoke inhalation or crushing as panicked concertgoers tried to escape. Another 193 were injured, many seriously, making it the worst fire disaster in the country’s history.
“They put them all into an oven,” residents later said of the packed venue, NZZ reported.
A town frozen in time
The burned-out shell of the Pulse club still stands in an industrial zone on the edge of the town of 25,000 people. The collapsed roof, charred beams and melted interior fixtures remain visible, guarded by police. The club’s sign still hangs above the entrance.
Dejan Nikolov, a mechanic whose garage sits next to the club, told NZZ he heard screams shortly after 2:30 a.m. that night and cut through window bars to help teenagers escape.
“Crans-Montana is Kocani,” Nikolov said, drawing a direct parallel between the two tragedies. “It’s the same horror, all over again.”
Investigators later found that the Pulse nightclub had been operating for years without a valid licence. Escape routes were blocked, safety checks were missing, and flammable foam had been installed in the ceiling—factors that mirror findings in other deadly nightclub fires across Europe.
Corruption and accountability
The disaster has intensified public anger in North Macedonia, where corruption and weak enforcement of safety regulations are long-standing concerns. Unlike the Swiss case, NZZ noted, the Kocani club was never legally approved to operate.
Prosecutors have charged 35 people, including the club owner, security firms, inspectors, municipal officials and former mayors who signed off on permits. The defendants face accusations ranging from endangering public safety to abuse of office.
The trial began in November in Skopje. Survivors and bereaved families are now testifying in public hearings.
However, some legal experts have criticised the case. Lawyer Janaki Mitrovski told NZZ that several charges may already be time-barred and suggested prosecutors had named a large number of defendants to deflect public outrage.
So far, families say they have received no compensation from the state.
‘It was not fate’
For parents who lost children, the pain remains immediate. Three fathers who lost sons and daughters in the fire meet regularly at a café in Kocani. They show visitors graphic videos and photos from the night—bodies laid out on floors, frantic relatives searching hospital corridors.
“We filmed it ourselves,” one father told NZZ. “As if we still have to prove what happened.”
Among them is Aleksandar Naunov, whose 17-year-old daughter Nadica died that night. He said he found her near the club entrance and carried her to hospital himself, not yet realising she was already dead.
Autopsy reports later concluded that many victims died from smoke and carbon monoxide inhalation. But investigators are now examining whether cyanide poisoning from burning foam may have played a decisive role—a detail with potential legal and insurance implications, NZZ reported.
“It was not fate. It was not an accident,” Naunov said. “It was negligence, greed and a corrupt system that does not protect its youth.”
The ‘Alley of Angels’
Kocani’s municipal cemetery has become the town’s emotional centre. What began as a temporary burial site has turned into a covered row of graves with benches, known locally as the “Alley of Angels.” Twenty-three victims are buried side by side, with others elsewhere in family plots.
Gravestones display portraits, selfies and digitally altered images showing the dead with angel wings. Parents leave stuffed animals, energy drinks, beer cans and incense.
People come every day—parents, grandparents and teenagers alike. Some talk quietly; others laugh or drink in the evenings, trying to reclaim fragments of normal life.
A stray dog often curls up between the graves to escape the cold.
“This is where we are never alone,” one mother told NZZ.
A country on edge
The impact of the fire has extended far beyond Kocani. Investigative journalist Goran Lefkov told NZZ that public trust in institutions has eroded further and expectations of harsh sentences are high.
“If there is no justice, the country could explode,” Lefkov said, warning of unrest if those seen as responsible are not held accountable.
The tragedy has also sparked broader debates on safety in North Macedonia, from nightclub regulations to road traffic, weapons controls and youth protection laws.
Lefkov himself has not written about the disaster. His reason emerged only later: his 17-year-old niece died in the fire.
Lessons across borders
In a gesture of solidarity, families in Kocani recently lit candles for the victims of the Crans-Montana fire. Marija Petrushova, who lost her 24-year-old son, urged Swiss parents to unite.
“You share everything—the pain, the anger, the bureaucracy,” she said, according to NZZ. “Doing it together helps.”
Petrushova said she still writes daily messages to her son on WhatsApp, checking for missed calls that will never come.
As Switzerland moves forward and ski races resume, Kocani remains suspended in mourning—a reminder, NZZ wrote, of how long it can take to grasp what has been lost forever.