Our Story

Katia, 36 years old, Luhansk region

My story of escape from the "Russian world" began a long time ago. Until 2017, our family tried to live in our homeland, in the Luhansk region, but it was not a life. No freedom, no development, no future. We left when my husband found a job in Mariupol. I remember when I went on a reconnaissance mission to see how things were there, I cried a lot. During the years of occupation, I forgot what freedom was like. We left everything we had and started our lives anew. Mariupol has become a dream city for us, a city where we wanted to be happy. I was so proud of its development and growth. During the years of occupation, I felt stuck, but here I was so happy that I could live again.  My entire family felt the same way.

On the morning of 24 February, I knew from experience what to do: petrol station, shop, pharmacy, water supply. Just in case. The shelling on the left bank began right away. It was loud, but I didn't feel scared, because I had heard and experienced it all before.  But when they started dropping bombs on residential areas, it became really scary. We lived in a residential area and had a view of private housing from the window. We had because soon it was no more.... The 9-storey building next door to ours burned down to the ground, all the entrances.  We almost suffocated in the basement of a nearby building. 

We were really reluctant to go down to the basement because it was poorly ventilated, dirty and rat infested. They stayed on our sixth floor until we couldn’t anymore. At first, they cut off the water and electricity, but we had experienced all that before. It was when the gas was cut off that it got really scary. Because we couldn't heat water, wash, or keep warm. We could do nothing! There were almost no windows left in the apartment, and the temperature was minus 10. You know, hunger is not scary, it's freezing from the inside that's scary. When all you want is warm water.

In the end, my parents, daughter, husband, and I went down to the basement. I don't understand where the strength and energy came from, but I couldn't sit still. I set up a kindergarten in the basement because there were so many children, cooked food, and helped neighbours. We became very close, sharing everything we had. When we ran out of bread, a neighbour brought a package of biscuits from somewhere.  And I still had some lard left.  And so we all ate these "sandwiches", which seemed very tasty.

We would go to the well to get water. I had to stand in queues for 6 hours for it. The water was salty and hardly suitable for drinking. I am still amazed by the strength of the human body - none of us got sick.

We cooked over a fire. First, away from the yard so that smoke would not get into the basement. But the "Russian world" drove us closer and closer to home. Once, in the evening, everyone was standing around the fire. It was unusually quiet.  This silence scared me, and I asked everyone to go to the basement. I persuaded my people, but the people from the other building were still outside. As soon as we entered the building, all hell broke loose. Horrendous shelling, inhuman screams that are still ringing in my ears. Two women were killed, one by a shrapnel and the other by a shock wave. Because of the shelling, we could not bury them for another three days.

The worst part was when my daughter asked in the evening, "Are we going to die here?" Of course, I said that everything would be fine, that we would survive. I could calm my child down, but I didn't believe it myself. I prayed that we would all die together, so that my daughter would not see me dead.

We had neither mobile connection nor internet. The phones were dying, and it was good if the family had at least one working mobile phone.  The mobile connection was occasionally available on the stairs on the upper floors, and then we would do a roll call with our friends. Everyone was waiting for a green corridor. Once we heard a rumour that there would be an evacuation from the Drama Theatre.  Our neighbours left and never came back. There was no evacuation. 

Once we wanted to go to our friends in another neighbourhood, but our neighbour's son came and said that there was no one and nothing there, and the streets were covered with corpses with no one to bury them.

We were very afraid that something would happen to our car, because with each new day we realised that the chances of survival in our basement were becoming less and less. Finally, in mid-March, we made up our minds. They hung white rags on the car and wrote "Children". We drove through the destroyed city, with broken cars and ruins in place of buildings. My child saw all of that. 

At first, we went to Dnipro and then moved to Ivano-Frankivsk region, where we still live. The experience in Mariupol left its mark on my family. I shut myself off, became apathetic, and started having panic attacks. I would walk down the street, hear a loud sound, and it would hit me. My heart would jump out of my chest, my hands would tremble, I would not be able to control yourself or see the people around me. Our daughter began stuttering. I didn't understand how to get my life back on track after the life we had and our home had been taken away from us for the second time.

I also blamed myself for not being able to take away everyone who remained there. Some did not have a car; some people's cars were hit by a shell or ran out of petrol. We helped a girl with a baby and a grandmother who could not walk. We looked for some condensed milk for the young mother, because she stopped producing breast milk and had nothing to feed her child. I still don't know if they survived. There are a lot of people like them. It hurts me a lot.

When I received a mailing about "Unbreakable Mum" at work, I immediately realised that I needed help. On the very first day, listening to the stories of other women who had also been enrolled in the programme, I thought, "Hey, you're not alone! You have all been through so much!" I feel better every day at the camp. My daughter even says I've become prettier.  Not only do they heal our wounds caused by the war here, but they also teach us how to adapt to new realities. They show you how to help yourself and your family survive this hell. 

Already in the camp, I thought, "Yes, two places you considered home were taken away from you. But after our victory, after the war is over, you will be able to choose any corner of Ukraine and make it your home. After all, the whole country is our home.