‘Whether there is shelling or there is not, they still ride their bicycles’

When shellfire was raging, when it [a shell] landed in the vegetable garden, when we were fleeing together with the children amid flying shell fragments – this was the scariest, the worst thing.

We stayed in the cellars when shell fragments were flying. My husband went to take things out of the house and all the windowpanes were blown out! The kids slept in the cellars during heavy shelling. They got used to it: they would still ride their bicycles when there was no shelling or when there was one. Yet, of course, we were worried about them.

During severe shelling, I would go to my aunt [to wait it out], but most of the people are here. When there was heavy shelling, little Yevhen and Oleksiy would say to me: ‘The cellar!’ I would say: ‘It is not that strong so far, no need to run to the cellar.’ But what does the cellar mean? It shatters and it is scary to stay inside it. Most often, we go either to my mother, she has got a good cellar, or to my sister. And now, while there is not shelling, it is fine.

The children probably got scared during the shelling. They began to speak indistinctly. We teach them to articulate sound ‘r’ clearly. When we correct them, they speak properly, but if we stop correcting them, they again speak in their own way. Well, maybe their speaking will improve with time.

If there had not been shelling in the village, it would have been much better. We moved here when the war was ongoing. There was the cheapest house here, we can buy it out. Maybe my husband’s parents will help, they have the cows, and maybe they will help to buy it. The house develops some bad cracks because of the shellfire. The roof is leaking.

At first, the military lived here. Then they left, and the property owner told us: ‘You can move in and live here.’ We agreed. I said: ‘We will live here alone, even though poorly, but under normal conditions.’ There were no windows, no window glass. We put the glass into the windows. We need to dismantle the roof [because] the ceiling is hanging loose. Water is here, in the water well. We can use this water for bathing, washing clothes, but not for drinking. We bring drinking water from Talakivka or take drinking water in Pavlopil.

If there was a school, a kindergarten here, then I would feel calm, as the children would be nearby. While now they are at school for weeks. When shelling continues, I worry about the situation in the town. There is no kindergarten, no school here – that’s bad.

There is a hope that when the war is over, it will be calm and quiet, and the school and the kindergarten will open. There is a hope that all this will come to an end. Everything will be fine.