From February 24 to March 7, about 80 people of the staff and guests of the ethnographic complex “Ukrainian Village” (in Buzova village situated 25 km from Kiev) escaped the war. For 9 days they were under occupation without electricity, heat, and mean of communication.
February 28. Lord, protect our earth and the sky above us! We pray from a shelter, where more than 60 people, 12 of whom are children, are hiding from war. Our church school church school basement on the territory of the ethnographic complex “Ukrainian Village”, 25 km from the capital, has been turned into a bomb shelter. My biggest concern is that it can become a mass grave for all these people – our guests and workers who fled from Kyiv. Next to our building is a Ukrainian church – a symbol of our national identity, which, in the opinion of the occupier, should not exist.
On February 27, the suburbs of Kyiv became a battlefield. Columns of tanks and weapons were 2 kilometers away from us, across the Zhytomyr highway. The Armed Forces of Ukraine were destroying the enemy, who in return firedin all directions, explosions were everywhere. Rockets exploded in the sky and their wreckage pierced the roofs of our greenhouses like a piece of paper. Our anti-aircraft guns moved in different directions to hit enemy tanks on the Zhytomyr route and strike them from time to time. Enemy helicopters were hovering above us. The aggressor’s drones were making pictures of the territory, hanging over our heads. Days and nights were mashed together, and we did not know what each minute would bring us. We were all unarmed.
February 28. A shell hit the Adonis maternity hospital next to us on the Zhytomyr highway. 15 women with children and staff were being evacuated from it to the basement of a school in the village of Buzova. At 41 weeks of pregnancy, 31-year-old Iryna was waiting in the basement for an evacuation to Kyiv. Among the children – a premature baby in need of oxygen. They were taken away to the sounds of sniper fire. Running out of the bus, pregnant women fell on the road.
Night of March 7. The enemy shot the residential 5-storey buildings buildings in the village of Buzova. Nobody knows what happened to whose people – is no light and no communication. Many facilities are located along the highway: restaurants, supermarkets, hospitals, garden center – all turned into ruins.
When the sounds of explosions are close, people in our basement have panic attacks, the elderly man cries, but we play active games with the children to drown out the sounds of the explosions. In moments of silence, our guests call their relatives, looking for ways to evacuate. My colleague tried to fix the transformer, when the missile explodednearby. Since then, he has been hiccuping for 5 days, he is short of air due to spasms in his chest.
March 1. Snipers are working right next to us along the road to the highway. A car with 4 civilians who tried to leave was shot, people are running into the woods. The man has broken both legs, he can not run and decides to stay in the woods. He was not found. The women ran to the nearest buildings, they were wounded. The women beg to be taken to hospital, but no one dares to take them under the sniper fire. They bleed in the basement of the house for 4 days. Our employees, risking their lives, bring them antibiotics and painkillers across the field. Broken and burned carsare left on the roadsides, blood is on the glass.
March 3. Our chef, Nadiya Ivanivna, heroically bakes bread in the oven – fortunately, we are on the territory of the ethnographic museum. Our ancestors baked bread in such ovens, and now we bake it too. Several times the cook falls to the floor, hiding from the explosions. People from neighboring villages come to us for bread, for some food, many no longer have food for children. For 2 hours a day, we turn on the generator to charge phones and cook large pots of soup or borscht. There is very little diesel fuel and it’s impossible to buy it anywhere. For these 2 hours a day, all the neighbors gather at the restaurant to charge their electronic devices. Maksym, the bartender, manages to make coffee. People drink it at restaurant tables – a ghostly illusion of peace.
Until March 8, we continue to store heat in the tropical greenhouses of the complex. Bananas and papayas ripen there, lemons and passion fruit bloom soaking the air with an incredible aroma. The minimum temperature at which these plants can survive is 11 degrees. On March 8, the greenhouses it becomes no longer possible to heat the greenhouses. It’s freezing outside.
March 3, 4, 5, 6 – our bomb shelter already has its own rules and regulations. We pray together for Ukraine, reveal the talents of those who are stuck here. Among us – an opera singer, a painter, chefs, translators, IT professionals, educators. There are no doctors and those who can use weapons. Everyone tries to be useful.
There is a zoo on the territory of the complex. It is home to a family of zebu: father, mother, and their son, 2 llamas, 2 donkeys, a family of 3 ponies, 6 mouflons, 5 deer, 5 goats, 4 raccoons, a family of wild boars, a pig, a nutria, rabbits, geese, pigeons, turkeys, swans, peacocks. Most animals are tamed, as they are accustomed to being fed by children. They rush to meet people, and everyone has learned to ask for food. The pony taps its knee on the fence, attracting attention. The goat is beating its horns so that people will not miss it. Now the animals are scared and hungry. There is still hay and vegetables left for a few days. We are looking for food in the cellars of neighbors, and the process of feeding to the sounds of explosions is becoming increasingly dangerous. It is increasingly difficult to bring water toanimals, because water has to be carried in buckets from the lake, automatic water supply does not work without electricity.
March 6. A column of our guests is fleeing the field roads, our priest, Father Bogdan, shows them the route using hisphone. They leave the bomb shelter, but other refugees arrive: a family with two children was shot in the car and they have nothing no transport to run away, they are desperately looking for a way out.
March 7. Anxious night as the sky above us is buzzing with planes. In the morning, most of the staff leaves the complex, except for those who remain to sustain the facilities. The gatekeeper and the family of the staff, our castellan, Oksana Grechka, and her husband, who did not want to leave their home, agree to feed the animals.
March 9. 10 Russian servicemen arrived. They grabbed the gatekeeper and threatened to shot him, demanding him totell the position of the mortar, they shot at Oksana to make her go away and take the child (her 8-year-old son who was helping her), but Oksana clung to the gatekeeper and did not let go: “Where are you taking Ivan? I will not let you do that!”. Enemies gave away and went to a restaurant to steal some alcohol. Just look at the strength of our women! That’s why we are invincible.
As of March 11, there has been no light or heating for 14 days. The Internet does not work, the leading telecommunications operator Kyivstar does not work, people in the village have no contact with each other and with us. Russians take away our phones and break them. They are shocked at how well we live and can’t understand “why did we called for them.” The explosions are getting closer and people are already starving. The civilians beg Europe and the United States – CLOSE THE SKY!
We left on March 7. The most difficult thing was to decide whether to risk moving to the sound of explosions or to stay. There were no official announcements about humanitarian corridors and such a departure was possible only at one’s own risk. We parted into cars. We had 8 cars. The only road was a country road through a field, ponds, forest and a tunnel under the Zhytomyr highway, on which Russian tanks stood. We hung the white ribbons on the cars. All signs along the roads in Ukraine have been removed in order to confuse the occupier as much as possible. There was no internet and no connection, so every wrong turn could be fatal. Along the roads, everything was destroyed, many abandoned and burned cars, broken buildings, dead silence. We prayed incessantly. We passed a tunnel under the tanks, which were very close, and drove on the road to the ruined and dead village of Buzova. We drove fast, after a while the connection was restored and we were able to turn on the navigator in the phone. We were saved.
Oksana Velychko, co-Chair of the Board of the Reanimation Package of Reforms Coalition, director of the Ethnographic Complex “Ukrainian Village”