Entering the fourth month of war
Today marks 120 days since Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, though it has been eight years since Russian troops first entered Ukrainian territory. Four months into the conflict, the flow of refugees coming through Przemyśl has stabilised at a couple of thousand per day, along with similar numbers returning.
Last week, I met a mother and her two daughters who were returning to Ukraine. I asked where they were from originally – Mariupol. I asked where they were returning from - Russia. They had been forcibly deported into Russia via Crimea, and had worked their way up to St Petersburg – a journey of 2,000 kilometres, in order to cross the border into Estonia by foot. They then worked their way back down to Przemyśl, where they would return to Ukraine to collect babusja from Kyiv, where she was waiting for them, having managed to escape from Mariupol. From there, they plan to return to the EU to resettle somewhere until the end of the war. They were in remarkably good spirits – all their posessions were in plastic bags (about ten of them overall) and I promised to buy them suitcases, before realising that it was a national holiday in Poland, and not a single shop in Przemyśl was open. ‘Better to be in Poland without a suitcase, than in Mariupol with one’, the mother replied when I returned emptyhanded.
The stories from occupied territories are indescribably horrific. Two nights ago, I met a woman from Melitopol, occupied by the Russians since 1st March. She had driven out of the city alone, and was stopped at checkpoints by Russian soldiers every five minutes. She pretended to be going to another city in the occupied region in order to visit her mother who she claimed was in hospital. She was able to pass through every checkpoint, but described to me how her heart did not stop racing until she finally saw Ukrainian soldiers, and knew she had reached her own countrymen. She flew to Portugal yesterday. She doesn’t know anyone there, but had heard that work and accommodation in central Europe are impossible to find, and had seen pictures of Portugal online and thought it looked like a nice place to be.
Away from occupied territories, the scale of the atrocities being committed by the Russian army as they try to expand their reach are also increasingly apparent. An elderly couple from Kharkiv who were travelling to Prague described bombs spinning down from the sky ‘like sycamore seeds’. They were referring to what is known as butterfly mines, an internationally banned, Soviet-era landmine. These bombs do not detonate on impact, instead exploding when picked up. Made of plastic and colourful, they are particularly appealing to children, who mistake them for toys and end up having their hands and arms blown off. The couple also described the use of cluster munitions over civilian areas in Kharkiv.
We spent the weekend in Lviv with our colleagues from Kharkiv Aid Office, delivering medical supplies and helping them with their aid purchases in the city. Right now they are dealing with the simultaneous struggles of massively increased shelling in Kharkiv – I am writing this at 2PM Ukrainian time on Thursday 23rd June, and there have already been seven air raids in the region – and the increased pressures on supplies which come from people returning to the city. Food is extremely scarce, and there are huge worries around the colder months, when ordinary winter viruses – as well as, inevitably, Covid - will meet with medication shortages. Right now, the priority is to stockpile as many basic medications as possible.
We urgently need your support to continue this work on both sides of the border. Please donate via our JustGiving or our PayPal. Ukraine cannot be allowed to fade from people’s consciousness. Civilian deaths continue to mount, and the situation is only going to worsen for the foreseeable future.
Thank you – and Slava Ukraini!
Ada and Alex
