by O. Del Fabbro
If a city could be an organism, then Kherson in Eastern Ukraine would be a sick body. For eight months, between March and November 2022, Kherson was occupied by Russian forces. Kidnapping, torture, and murder – in terms of violence and cruelty, Kherson’s citizens have seen it all. Today, even though liberated, the port city on the Dnieper River and the Black Sea is still being regularly bombarded: a children’s hospital, a bus stop, a supermarket. Even though freed, how could this city ever heal?
One of Kherson’s citizens is Andryi. As soon as the Russians left, Andryi and his friends started with humanitarian work. For months the former car mechanic had no job. He rather helped others. When the pastor of his church found out about Andryi’s skills to repair roofs, he gave him some money and assignments. “My friend and I started with a house in which an old grandmother and her son lived.” Before Andryi and his friend started their work, three different groups looked at the roof but did not dare to repair it, because the Russians were only four hundred meters away, on the other side of the Dnieper River, waiting to kill humanitarian aid workers. “We decided to do it, and we did it. Praise the Lord, nothing happened.” Three days later, the roof was finished.
While repairing roofs Andryi has been exposed, both indirectly or directly, to a variety of weaponry: mortars, snipers, rockets, you name it. “When we repaired roofs, artillery fire was constantly active. Once, we saw phosphorous bombs in the near distance, then we hid in the basement.” The last roof was the scariest experience. Some of the material that Andryi and his partner use is a plain white awning, easily detectable by the Russians. Being only one kilometer away, the Russians bombarded Andryi and his friend with mortars, but luckily, they missed. “That was scary, but they did a bad job in trying to hit us.” In total, Andryi counted twenty-six explosions. “It was frequent, loud, and very close.” When talking about his war experience, Andryi has, as many Ukrainians, a dry and succinct way of expressing himself. “You realize that you can get hit, when you hear the bomb exploding.”
Friends, family, donations via social media, the pastor, and the members of his church helped to buy materials such as nails, wood and so on, but at some point, Andryi and his friend ran out of money. He then simply helped the military by using his skills as a car mechanic. He built a heavy machine gun on the back of an old Rada, or repaired the sewage system of a village in the countryside near Kherson.
Neither the danger of bombs nor harsh Ukrainian weather conditions could keep Andryi away from work. When asked why he is doing this, he answers quietly: “Because of the compassion and love for the people.” Do you think that it is your duty to help? “Yes. I realized that there are people in the army, but there is nobody who can help restore the buildings and the roofs.” Without Andryi’s help, these people would have literally been left without a roof over their head – homeless during an Ukrainian winter. “I was afraid to die, but I kept going.”
Relentlessness.
In June 2023, came the next catastrophe. The Kakhovka Dam was blown up. The consequence was an unimaginable natural and humanitarian crisis. Large parts next to the lower Dnieper River were flooded. Mines were washed away, animals died, elderly drowned in their own homes. Russia’s creativity in regard to cruelty and violence against Ukrainians seemed inexorable. A man-made natural catastrophe, similarly to the Holodomor, Stalin’s artificially created famine in Ukraine in the 1930’s killing millions. How much violence could the already sickened and weakened body of Kherson withstand?
Andryi once again was ready to sacrifice his life in order to help out wherever possible. With fellow humanitarian aid workers, they brought water, bread and food to the people struck by the flooding. “I was shocked when I saw the amount of water.” The road on which Andryi used to drive was now completely under water, and Andryi was sitting in a boat floating above roads, houses, trees, and meadows. Again, exposed to possible Russian shelling.
Sometimes Andryi thinks about joining the army, but he is not allowed to. His father served and got wounded in the trenches, so he forbids his son to serve. “I do as my father says. He thinks I am too young to go to war.” Andryi is twenty-five and has probably spent more time on the frontline than most soldiers. He lives on the frontline day by day.
Tragically, Andryi himself was not spared from the Kakhovka Dam catastrophe. His house in Oleshky, on the other side of Kherson, still today in occupied territory, was flooded. At that moment Andryi felt lost, he did not know what to do or think. “It was difficult to realize what was happening, what feelings to have.” Maybe start a new life? Today, only the garden is under water, but the house still needs repairment. “I don’t know if my house will survive.”Andryi’s dream is to go back home, and rebuild what was destroyed.
When asked if he hates the Russians, he chuckles: “I don’t like them.” No hate? “I don’t like the word ‘hate’. Let’s say I simply don’t like them.” Andryi is not only a deeply religious person, but also a wise man. “Before the war I had a job, a car, a house, friends. Now, it is all gone. They ruined the life of everybody.”
A couple of weeks ago, Andryi had to stop repairing roofs. Heavy fighting in the Kherson area made it difficult to work. Due to stress he developed health issues related to his heart and stomach forcing him to leave Kherson to seek treatment in Western Ukraine. On top of that, he needs a job and some money. Now, Andryi cannot help others, he needs to take care of himself. More than two years on the frontline wear on you.
Kherson lost one of its most resistant citizens. It is still suffering. A city is only as resilient as its citizens. Andryi says that he’s doing fine: “I don’t know if I’ll go back to Kherson, but I think so. Next year.” Kherson probably can’t wait.