In the first days of the war, Ihor Pavliuk, the director of the Ukrainian House in Mariupol, and his colleagues were converting the palace of culture (community centre) into a reliable bomb shelter for citizens.

They used benches and gymnastic mats as places for sleeping, took water from the building’s heating system, and made some frying pans for cooking from metal sheets...

Together with his family, he spent almost a month in the besieged Mariupol. During that time, Ihor’s house burned down, as well as the flat of his elder son, and his mother’s house came under shelling. A gravesite in the courtyard, where their killed neighbours were buried, was growing before their eyes.

After the victory, he is ready to return to his hometown even on foot in order to rebuild it.

My name is Ihor Pavliuk. I am 54 years old and I live in Mariupol. I was born there and lived there until recently. We lived a very good life. We had our job and, most importantly, it was the job we loved. We had a flat where we just finished the refurbishment and could therefore finally breathe out with relief.

A car, a job, our friends, everything was fine. At 6 o’clock, our relative from Kyiv telephoned us. She said, “The war has started. We are being bombed.”

We turned on the TV and saw some news reports about shelling attacks on Kyiv. We still did not understand whether our city was shelled or not. I went to my work. I worked as the director of the Palace of Culture “Ukrainian House”. It was the largest palace of culture (cultural and community centre) in the region, in our city.

I knew that our centre would become a place that would have a certain effect on all the processes. Our units of the Armed Forces of Ukraine were on the way. We all met there and within a day, they were sent to the battle lines from our community centre. Thank God, I saw our first military men in the morning of 24 February. At that moment, I realized that this was a war, as they also brought the ammunition with them. There were weapons and ammunition rounds; we were present at that time. Logistically, our centre is rather well placed. There were large parking lots so military vehicles drove up and then, in the evening, everybody left and went to their positions.

I wanted to stay in the city to the last. I hoped that the situation that actually happened would not happen.

Until 10 May, I tried to go there on foot. No one could any longer move on vehicles at that time, so I walked. I walked about four kilometres to my work because at that time we had many IDPs/refugees in our bomb shelter. We thought about where to accommodate them.

There were a lot of children and elderly people. We kept figuring out how to arrange better living conditions for them. We took out all the [gymnastic] mats that the circus performers and the choreography team had. We tried… We came up with an idea how to arrange a sleeping area for them. We also figured out how to drain water from the fire extinguishing system. The system we had was unique. Thank God, we had it all. When there was no water anywhere for quite a while, we still had it and people could meet their daily needs. Notably, part of our centre was under reconstruction. It was expected to be a huge project.

Fortunately, this helped us, as we used those bricks and construction materials to block the windows. We piled up the bags with building materials to block the windows. We also used those bricks to set up fireplaces where people could cook their food. We had a shared kitchen area. We made some special stoves, chargrills and frying pans.

There was little food, limited amount of food products, and we had to use them sparingly, so as not to throw anything away. Everything had to be used, from A to Z, and it worked out well for us.

The first count down, that is, the point when we realized that we had to leave... On 9 March, the house was hit for the first time. At that time, the telephone signal was unavailable. We had no water, no electricity, nothing. We cooked food on the open fire. And when the hospital came under an artillery attack… Well, earlier we thought that since we were close to the hospital, we would be out of shelling targets’ list, but it turned out to be on the contrary. The children were in the bedroom. My wife called them to the kitchen, and exactly 15 minutes later, we no longer had our bedrooms. The children stayed alive. Luckily, there was no fire yet. If they had not come out, they would have just been buried under the rubble. That was on 9 March, when we went down to the basement. Then it all snowballed. On 16 March, our house burned down. It caught fire after it was struck by either mines or shells.

We tried to extinguish the fire, but there was no water, so the house was burning and we were just looking at it.

It was scary to go out to some open space – snipers kept shooting and, in addition, after 9 March, we got our first experience, as we carried out our dead neighbours. The first old woman [died] on 4 March. The dead were not collected by anyone. Then our guys from the territorial defence unit showed up and told us to take the dead bodies out to the balconies. We thought about burying her, but shelling began. Then a gravesite appeared and started growing.

Now I know how the heating system works. We drained water from the heating radiators. Then frosty weather struck and this water disappeared. But we still made holes in the pipes in the basement and drained some water. There was still some water delivery in the area, but when the shelling intensified badly, that water delivery ended immediately.

While there was still some food, at least some supplies (we came to our flats to take the food), then the situation with water was very difficult. Then later, we had water only from the heating radiators. It was very difficult, but we even made some “basement families”, and one of the neighbours evacuated us on his car. My car was completely damaged. We gave up the car battery and the wheels.

Everything was different; the values were different. I learned how to chop wood. I cut the wood into chips, as we needed small chips in order to be able to make a fire quickly.

Now, I wouldn’t probably repeat it. Or, perhaps, I could do it, but I just don’t want to. We maintained the so-called “quenchless fire”, because we had to go out quickly, put the kettle with water on the fire and run back to the basement. Then the house next door burned down. There was our son’s flat there. We lived in the neighbouring house where everything burned out completely.

The so-called DPR soldiers came in, and then the Russians showed up. We were very afraid that they would throw a grenade into the basement. We quickly made “Children” sign and put it near the basement. And we made an agreement that if they asked, then only children would answer. They came downstairs to the basement and made sure that there were only civilians in it.

We asked them if we could get out and leave somehow. They said that for them we were not there, and that we could go wherever we wanted. In their understanding, the great “liberators” came and we were supposed to be grateful.

We went out on 22 March. Why on the 22nd? I went out into the yard to see what was happening. A Grad MLRS stopped nearby, and missile volleys began, about ten meters from me. When the shelling was right near the entrance to the basement, we had to get out. We ran off. I thought there was an escape way from Port City. We ran and hid.

The distance that in peacetime could be covered in 15 minutes, took us a couple of hours. Our dog did not bark a single time. We now joke saying that he is still dumb. The house on the edge of the city where my mother had lived was gone. I gladly understood that they left. We agreed that they would leave. Many of our neighbours died. Now people are trying to remove the broken walls. The basement was covered by the rubble. There is a smell, but I don’t know how many people are there.

We realize that those who were in the basement under the second and third entrances, they are not with us anymore, because they were simply buried under the rubble.

My family, my closest relatives, my mother and my sister, are alive. Unfortunately, my grandmother passed away. She simply could not bear it. She needed medical assistance. She died a natural death...

And the biggest, probably, our biggest human loss was when my cousin was shot dead when he went out to get some water. One of the Russians made a remark to him, but he was so pro-Ukrainian. He said something in response, and he was simply shot dead right near the entrance to his house.

We came to Kyiv dressed in what we had on when we went down to the basement. In warm boots and in jackets. Before it all started, we realized that such events could happen.

We prepared a grab bag with documents, and so we left with documents and with our dog.

Unfortunately, everything that I have earned in my 54 years is gone. Nothing has left, only our lives remain. We have to start everything from scratch.

I have already said it that as soon as our [military] forces liberate Mariupol, we are ready to go there even on foot, if it will not be possible to travel by vehicle. It can be a long walk, but we are ready to go home on foot. We want to go home. We want to return to the city as soon as possible. I know that there is no place where to live anymore, but I think that I will manage to find some temporary dwelling. I will be re-building [our home]. And we will live on.