Everyone had some plans and hopes to live peacefully, to live a good and happy life. To go to school, to train, to make studies, and to work. Then, at a moment’s notice, there is no work, no school and no home.
We were caught by shelling in the house. We heard it all. We saw the glass flying. Our veranda still stays destroyed. We have not repaired it. We have repaired half of the roof. It was scary, very scary.
What did I feel in those moments? Where to hide. The shelling was every day and we somehow got used to it. But it was the first time when the village came under the shellfire. And exactly our yard was hit by shelling.
We did not pay attention to it. We were staying inside the house. And when the chandelier started to swing and window glass shattered, then we rushed off for some escape. But where could we run then when those shell fragments were flying everywhere? Even all the carpets were in shell fragments. It was scary.
We hid behind the wardrobe in the entrance hall. We then went down to the cellar later, when everything was over. We went down to the cellar and heard it quieted down. So, we came out then.
Something hit us. What was that? God knows. My daughter Inna said: ‘Mom was killed!’ I said: ‘How could I be killed? I am standing near you!’ She said: ‘Look.’ I was standing in a pool of blood. Apparently, one of my blood vessels was cut. Nothing serious, everything healed up smoothly.
We rushed off to Artemivsk in fright. We lived there for three months and then I lived for one month in Dnipropetrovsk region with my child’s godmother. And then, we could not vagabond any longer. I have two grown-up sons. They remained in Mariupol. So, I came back here. Where shall I rent an apartment? Either there, or here, it doesn’t matter. We rented an apartment here, closer to our home, closer to the children. There could be some kind of help anyway.
There is a school nearby and a rehabilitation centre. We went to the cinema and to some exhibitions here. Everything is close. While in Pavlopil there is neither a school nor a kindergarten. We used to have a rural health post (medical and obstetric station), but now there is nothing. The school is damaged, the kindergarten is closed down. Everyone moved away.
We have been registered here and we get some social payments, while we did not get anything there. I feel safe here. We do not hear anything here, everything is fine. We often go out for a walk. We go to the parks and to the drama theatre. We saw a nice fountain. We learn the names of the trees. Inna knows where maple tree is, where acacia and where poplar is. She asks: ‘Is it a willow tree or a birch?’ We learn this.
She has infantile cerebral palsy and a delayed psychomotor development. She needs help with feeding, washing and brushing her teeth. She cannot do anything herself. ‘Give me some water, hold it, put my shoes on.’ I do everything for her. She gets sick very often, especially in winter time. There are doctors nearby here. Special teachers come to us, who not only teach her how to count, to write, but they encourage her to talk, give her some exercises.
I wish to all residents of Donbass a soonest end of this war and the return to their homes! No matter where you are, you still want to go home. I hope that this all will end soon, everyone will return home, people will begin to restore their households and will live on peacefully.
