Vezhdi has died.
During my first term, when the language in the National Assembly was civilized, I called GERB a “gang.” In response, Vezhdi called me a “Komsomol member.” It was considered a major scandal at the time.
Yavor Bozhankov wrote this on "Facebook".
Shortly afterwards, my father fell ill, while Vezhdi was being treated by a Bulgarian oncologist in Berlin. Whether it was shameful or not, I went to him to ask for help. Vezhdi literally took me by the hand and led me to the doctor. Vezhdi and I did not know each other at all. We went in, and he said: “My friend, I’m bringing you this young man. His father is ill. He is very close to me, very dear to my heart. Please help him.”
Until then, I had been poisoned by clichés: “a multak,” “a servant of thugs,” and all sorts of things. That was until I saw with my own eyes what kind of person he was. Later, I heard similar stories from many people who knew him.
Rashidov—flawed, like every human being. But, like few others, kind-hearted.
May he rest in peace!