In my old age, I face war instead of rest. Shelling is almost round the clock. Shelling is in the morning, during the day, at any time. When they shell, my chest hurts. My blood pressure jumps to 200/100.
Two windows in the house had been blown out – we replaced them; in our garden 12 trees, seven-year-old trees, were hit... The fence was damaged, the garage roof was riddled all over. Well, thank goodness, the roof of the house remained intact.
In our village, over 100 houses are now abandoned. Younger people with children have left, while pensioners have stayed to live out their days. Over two months, nine people, pensioners, died early here. People die because of this stress and shocks. Before the war we had some 1,200 working-age people here, are now there are 30.
We survive thanks to our household plots and poultry. There are no cattle and pigs as there is no grain. How would we feed them?
We support each other, and we talk to each other when we meet. Like friends, neighbours started to help each other. Power lines were damaged, and there was no electricity. So, everyone was helping each other, all together, neighbours, friends were helping each other. We are getting over it, over this trouble.
There is no future in our village yet. None. Though, it used to be before. And there is no future now. All farms have been destroyed by shelling. All younger people have moved away.
The scariest thing is shelling. At night, you lie in your bed, and if you look out of the window, you’ll see red, green flares, shelling. And you wonder: “Where will it fall, here or there?” Three of those hit the vegetable patch. Then, there were explosions. That is the scariest thing. I am worried about myself, about children, about the entire village.
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