Ilya (22), Maxim (15), Bohdan (23), Margarita (22), Maryna (22) and Yelizaveta (21). They have known each other since childhood, from school, from the city they lived in until recently. Severodonetsk. The Ukrainian city in the east of the country has become notorious in recent days and weeks. The Russian offensive reduced much of the city of 100,000 to rubble and ash. It is considered a symbol of the approaching fall of the contested region of Donbass claimed by the Kremlin.
The six tell about their escape via video call. They are now scattered in different countries. Study, work, wait.
“We don’t know if we’ll see each other again,” says Maryna. A lot has happened since the beginning of the war. The date is etched in the minds of young Ukrainians. It just says: “February 24th”, the word “invasion” is avoided. Very painful and disturbing effect.
First, the good news: all six youths are now safe. Ilya, Bohdan and Maryna are currently studying in Malaga, Spain through the Erasmus program. They left their homeland just before the war without any omens.
Little did the three know that they would not be able to return to Severodonetsk in June, when the exchange comes to an end. Bohdan has not given up hope that the Russian aggression will soon end. New month, new hope. “Maybe we can go back in July,” he says.
However, the city was largely destroyed, and in recent weeks, the heaviest fighting of the war has focused on Severodonetsk. The city has been under artillery fire since February.
In March, Margarita and Yelyzaveta finally decided to run away. “At first, we didn’t even know how to get out of town without encountering Russian soldiers. You can’t Google an escape from war,” says Margarita, her voice shaky. The 22-year-old is currently fighting in Milan, Italy. She has several jobs, including working as a model. “That’s the only way I’ve managed to escape so far,” she says. For years she has received threatening phone calls from Russian separatists, malicious messages: “Did you like the last bomb?”
Yelyzaveta, on the other hand, is still in Ukraine. More precisely, in the city of Kropyvnytskyi, which lies between Kyiv and Odessa. She talks casually about how she coordinated the escape of some 5,000 elderly and sick people before she left town. She doesn’t know if her apartment still exists or if it has been bombed.
Ilya doesn’t talk much, preferring to listen to others. He nods his head every now and then so you can tell the video image isn’t frozen. When asked about relatives left behind, he breaks the silence. “The last time I spoke to my mother was a week ago,” he says. Later, it will turn off the camera briefly and then turn it on again. Glassy eyes will appear behind his glasses.
Yes, Ilyas’ mother is still in the city taken by the Russians. “She couldn’t escape in time. The situation was very confusing,” he says. Contacts via the Internet and telephone are practically impossible. The remaining residents would remain in air-raid shelters with no reception. Ilia tries to reach for signs of life every day from three corners. The day before yesterday her mother was seen. She is fine.
The youngest of the group is called Maxim. He has 15 years. He left Severodonetsk just last month. The reason: his father runs the local hospital and was urgently needed due to his many injuries. At the last moment, his family fled to Kyiv. “It was like in a horror movie. Destroyed cars were everywhere on the street. And strangely scary smoke,” recalls the 15-year-old, who is not allowed to see horror movies but had to experience war.
What do the six young refugees from Donbass miss most in Severodonetsk? Normal life, totally normal. Margarita misses being able to walk her dog in a city park without bomb holes. Maryna the streets and avenues where, without fear of being discovered, you can noisily embrace her arm.