On 11 July 1995, Bosnian Serb forces overran the eastern enclave of Srebrenica and, over the following days, systematically executed more than 8,000 Bosniak men and boys—Europe's worst atrocity since the Second World War. The International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia later classified the massacre as genocide, a legal designation that transformed Srebrenica from a modest mining town into a universal symbol of failed international intervention. The Potočari Memorial Cemetery, opened in 2003, now shelters 6,671 identified victims in rows of white marble headstones that stretch across former battery-factory grounds where Dutch UN peacekeepers had maintained a base. Each year on the anniversary, newly identified remains receive burial, and the count rises as forensic teams continue exhuming mass graves scattered across surrounding forests and hillsides. The Memorial Center's permanent exhibition occupies a converted industrial hall adjacent to the cemetery. Visitors encounter personal effects recovered from grave sites—eyeglasses, identity cards, fragments of clothing—displayed alongside video testimony from survivors and families of the disappeared. One gallery reconstructs the chronology of the enclave's fall through declassified UN cables, intercepted Bosnian Serb Army radio traffic, and aerial reconnaissance photographs that document the systematic concealment of execution sites. The exhibition does not aestheticize trauma; it presents evidence with forensic precision, allowing the material record to speak. A srebrenica day tour from sarajevo typically allocates three hours within the memorial grounds, sufficient time to walk the cemetery, absorb the gallery, and attend the short documentary screening in the visitor center. Potočari sits 140 kilometers northeast of Sarajevo along the Drina River valley, a route that threads through Republika Srpska, the Serb-majority entity within Bosnia and Herzegovina's postwar federation. The journey itself carries historical weight: buses pass through Zvornik, where ethnic cleansing began in 1992, and skirt the edge of the former safe area that UN Security Council Resolution 819 had designated but failed to defend. Guided tours from the capital include contextual briefings during the drive, tracing the war's progression from the siege of Sarajevo to the Srebrenica enclave's isolation and collapse. Local guides—many of whom lived through the conflict—provide firsthand accounts that no exhibition text can replicate, grounding abstract figures in lived memory. The memorial's free admission reflects a deliberate policy: the Srebrenica-Potočari Memorial Foundation, established by Bosnian law in 2001, operates as a public institution funded by government appropriations and international donations. No ticket desk separates visitors from the cemetery; the threshold is open, the approach unmediated. This accessibility extends the site's function beyond commemoration into active education, positioning Srebrenica as both a place of mourning and a pedagogical instrument against denial. Tours from Sarajevo honor this dual mandate, structuring visits to balance solemnity with historical inquiry, ensuring that the journey to Potočari becomes an act of witness rather than passive tourism.