The killers came in the middle of the night – making a great noise. Galina Lohinova (70) first thought there was a military parade in the street in front of her house. But then the explosion became louder, the earth shook, the neighboring houses suddenly burst into flames, and people screamed. His son-in-law entered the bedroom and took Galina Lohinova out of town. Many of their neighbors were less fortunate. They died in their homes, burned to death in broken barricades.
Lohinova bites her golden cross and stares blankly down Borodianka Street, where charred ruins stand left and right. “Why did the Russians come here? We didn’t do anything,” he says. On the floor in front of her are four tubs of small, sour apples. That’s all Galina Lohinova left to earn a few hryvnias.
Borodianka, Bucha, Irbin – everywhere the Russians were furiously furious
It has been five months since Russian troops stormed the western suburbs of Kiev, killing thousands of civilians. Borodianka, Bucha, Irbin: these names burned themselves into the memory of the world community. Once prosperous communities are now horror zones. Residents who survived the horror were shocked by the scenes of destruction.
Galina Lohinova’s house was one of the few that the Russians spared. “Probably because I didn’t remove the old street sign,” he says, pointing to a blue plaque on the wall of the house: “Lenina 399-1” is on the sign. Borodianka’s central street was named after the former Russian leader during the Soviet era.
Hiding from rapists
At the back of the blooming garden, Galina Lohinova’s niece Olga (22) sits on an old swing. Rocket splitters are on the table. “A gift from Putin,” Olga says. He recently found rusted parts in the ruins of his parents’ house, which the Russians destroyed on March 4.
That night Olga crouched in the basement among the cans. “Rattattatatta” sounded from above, she says. A long incision runs down her forehead above her left eye. But compared to all the women the Russians raped during their occupation, the young teacher escaped unscathed.
To view hotspots
The war in Ukraine, the planned return of Donald Trump, the global hunger crisis: even after the corona pandemic, the world is not at peace. That’s why Blig is implementing its international reporting immediately. Foreign correspondent Samuel Schumacher (34) now reports live from the hotspots of world events and goes where the most important stories of our time are happening. In addition to political analyses, breaking news and expert assessments, Bligh likes to take the pulse of the world up close and tell how world events are shaping the daily lives of people around the planet. Historian, trekking tour leader and experienced foreign teacher, Samuel Schumacher is always well prepared for an easy task. In his first correspondent assignment, he travels from the Ukrainian capital, Kiev, to the Donbass in eastern Ukraine, where the war is still raging.
The war in Ukraine, the planned return of Donald Trump, the global hunger crisis: even after the corona pandemic, the world is not at peace. That’s why Blig is implementing its international reporting immediately. Foreign correspondent Samuel Schumacher (34) now reports live from the hotspots of world events and goes where the most important stories of our time are happening. In addition to political analyses, breaking news and expert assessments, Bligh likes to take the pulse of the world up close and tell how world events are shaping the daily lives of people around the planet. Historian, trekking tour leader and experienced foreign teacher, Samuel Schumacher is always well prepared for an easy task. In his first correspondent assignment, he travels from the Ukrainian capital, Kiev, to the Donbass in eastern Ukraine, where the war is still raging.
A sudden siren alarm mingled with the chirping of birds in the summer garden. No one moved. Olga only smiled. Back then, when the Russians came, there were no sirens here. Nobody seriously thought that the quiet suburbs of Kiev would be targets for Putin’s henchmen. And today the people here are paralyzed. Is it an alarm? Sirens? so what! “There’s no point in being here again. But where should we go? We hope that horror will not come to us a second time,” says Olga.
Headshot for Taras Shevchenko
Borodianka has a market in the village square. Men in green aprons advertise their vegetables. A woman offers colored socks and bras for sale. Behind them, the charred ruins of apartment buildings rise into the summer sky. A large bust of national poet Taras Shevchenko (1814-1861) stands in the center of the village square. Shevchenko has a hole in his forehead. Forehead blow. “Russians even insult our idols,” says Dmytro Tymoshenko, 42, with a shrug.
Tymoshenko ran a furniture store in Irbin before the war. When the Russians arrived, he put on his uniform, shouldered his gun, and drove the unsuspecting people out of danger in his green Mercedes bus. Today he drives me, a Bligh reporter, through the contaminated area. “There, destroyed, there, broken, this is the bombing,” Tymoshenko says, pointing with his strong hands to what remains of his homeland after the Russians left.
Mowing the lawn in front of the vandalized Ed Sheeran church
He stopped crying long ago. He did not yet dare to believe that the war would end soon. “Belarusians may invade here soon. Our special units warn about this,” says Tymoshenko, pointing to a group of soldiers building a new sandbag defense wall at the entrance to Bucha. A Mercedes bus passes a bombed shopping center with a bombed alley. It looks like a large, overturned metal container. A sign outside the rust heap. It says “Strike & Grill”. “Meet & Grill”. The sign looks forlorn amid the charred ruins.
Then Tymoshenko braked in front of a blue church on the border between Bucha and Irbin. “Ed Sheeran Filmed His New Video Here”, he says. The facade of the church is shot, the windows are broken, and inside is a black void. But in front of the church, two parishioners are trimming the dry grass. A ridiculous film. “Fixing and cleaning is Ukrainian therapy,” Tymoshenko says. “Many are frozen here. They don’t know how to deal with it all.” The strength for fear, the energy for all worries, they don’t have it anymore. So why not mow the lawn? It doesn’t hurt anybody.
“Wannabe pop culture fanatic. Zombie advocate. Entrepreneur. Internet evangelist. Alcohol fanatic. Typical travel buff.”
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