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The Sun
22-05-2025
- General
- The Sun
Elderly Ukrainians Refuse to Flee War-Torn Lyman
Lidia Isayeva, 86, has been living alone in a cellar to shelter from Russian strikes that have destroyed her apartment and part of her hometown. Asked if she has any plans to leave Lyman, a town near the front in eastern Ukraine, she is categorical: 'Never!' 'I have a paradise here,' Isayeva told AFP, in the narrow underground corridor that served as her kitchen, the scent of cooked onions cutting through the musty air. Her husband is buried in the town and she cannot fathom being apart from him. 'I want to be close to him, and nowhere else.' The answer is the same as on the several previous occasions AFP visited her since last year. 'We're home, we'll die at home,' she said. Despite the risks, some Ukrainians choose to stay on in the ruins, holding on to a lifetime of memories in towns where many have lived forever. Many are elderly residents who fear they have nowhere else to go or who cannot bear the trauma of leaving. Wearing a purple jumper and felt slippers, Isayeva said she never thought her 'life would be like this'. Sitting in her armchair, she scrupulously crosses off each passing day on a calender. Millions have fled the fighting in Ukraine's east over the last decade. First when Russian-backed separatists launched an offensive in 2014 and more after Russia's full-scale invasion in 2022. Dangerous optimism Some have since returned. Isayeva's neighbour, Valentyna Romenska, said she was evacuated to Kyiv three years ago. Everything was going well until the 86-year-old pensioner discovered bedbugs in her new home. She returned to Lyman, just ten kilometres (six miles) from the front, and sees no reason to leave again. The explosions do not bother her because she is 'a bit deaf.' And anyway, a metal screw she uses to tell 'fortunes' recently predicted 'peace in May'. Two short-term truces declared by Russia have not stopped the fighting -- and often complicated evacuation efforts. 'Several times we came to an address and the person said, 'Why should I evacuate, it seems to be calm',' said Eduard Skoryk from East SOS, which helps people evacuate from the front. His colleague, 33-year-old Roman Bugayov, said people want everything to work out and are willing to believe 'rumours'. 'It's an optimism that can lead to death,' he warned. Skoryk said he recently went to a house where he was supposed to evacuate the residents, only to find it reduced to rubble by a strike. Leaving is frightening Regional authorities regularly call on residents near the front line to flee, and evacuations are mandatory in the most dangerous areas. The refusal of some residents to leave frustrates those risking their lives to try to save them. Many of the rescuers themselves had to flee their hometowns and know that leaving is scary. But Bugayov said he was 'indignant' at some who choose to stay. Sometimes they have to move the same family 'two, three, four times' said Pavlo Dyachenko, a police officer from the White Angels unit, which specialises in evacuations. Sometimes people who are evacuated and then return are killed by a strike. A minority of the holdouts are quietly waiting for the Russian army to arrive. Others stay out of fear they cannot afford to live anywhere else. Internal refugees receive a monthly allowance of around $48 per adult and $72 per child. Isayeva said she would need 'a bag of money' to leave, as her savings would not be enough to get by in areas more expensive than those near the front line. Dyachenko said that experienced teams understood very quickly whether a person could be persuaded to leave or if it was pointless. Still, they can be surprised at times. The police officer recalled a recent example of woman who was refusing point-blank to leave Pokrovsk, a town under constant Russian fire. As a last resort, the rescue team showed her a video message from her sister, whom she had not seen for ten years. 'I'm waiting for you,' the sister said, urging her to evacuate. Within minutes, the woman had packed her belongings and was on the road with the rescue team.


The Sun
22-05-2025
- General
- The Sun
Clinging to home in the ruins of eastern Ukraine
Lidia Isayeva, 86, has been living alone in a cellar to shelter from Russian strikes that have destroyed her apartment and part of her hometown. Asked if she has any plans to leave Lyman, a town near the front in eastern Ukraine, she is categorical: 'Never!' 'I have a paradise here,' Isayeva told AFP, in the narrow underground corridor that served as her kitchen, the scent of cooked onions cutting through the musty air. Her husband is buried in the town and she cannot fathom being apart from him. 'I want to be close to him, and nowhere else.' The answer is the same as on the several previous occasions AFP visited her since last year. 'We're home, we'll die at home,' she said. Despite the risks, some Ukrainians choose to stay on in the ruins, holding on to a lifetime of memories in towns where many have lived forever. Many are elderly residents who fear they have nowhere else to go or who cannot bear the trauma of leaving. Wearing a purple jumper and felt slippers, Isayeva said she never thought her 'life would be like this'. Sitting in her armchair, she scrupulously crosses off each passing day on a calender. Millions have fled the fighting in Ukraine's east over the last decade. First when Russian-backed separatists launched an offensive in 2014 and more after Russia's full-scale invasion in 2022. Dangerous optimism Some have since returned. Isayeva's neighbour, Valentyna Romenska, said she was evacuated to Kyiv three years ago. Everything was going well until the 86-year-old pensioner discovered bedbugs in her new home. She returned to Lyman, just ten kilometres (six miles) from the front, and sees no reason to leave again. The explosions do not bother her because she is 'a bit deaf.' And anyway, a metal screw she uses to tell 'fortunes' recently predicted 'peace in May'. Two short-term truces declared by Russia have not stopped the fighting -- and often complicated evacuation efforts. 'Several times we came to an address and the person said, 'Why should I evacuate, it seems to be calm',' said Eduard Skoryk from East SOS, which helps people evacuate from the front. His colleague, 33-year-old Roman Bugayov, said people want everything to work out and are willing to believe 'rumours'. 'It's an optimism that can lead to death,' he warned. Skoryk said he recently went to a house where he was supposed to evacuate the residents, only to find it reduced to rubble by a strike. Leaving is frightening Regional authorities regularly call on residents near the front line to flee, and evacuations are mandatory in the most dangerous areas. The refusal of some residents to leave frustrates those risking their lives to try to save them. Many of the rescuers themselves had to flee their hometowns and know that leaving is scary. But Bugayov said he was 'indignant' at some who choose to stay. Sometimes they have to move the same family 'two, three, four times' said Pavlo Dyachenko, a police officer from the White Angels unit, which specialises in evacuations. Sometimes people who are evacuated and then return are killed by a strike. A minority of the holdouts are quietly waiting for the Russian army to arrive. Others stay out of fear they cannot afford to live anywhere else. Internal refugees receive a monthly allowance of around $48 per adult and $72 per child. Isayeva said she would need 'a bag of money' to leave, as her savings would not be enough to get by in areas more expensive than those near the front line. Dyachenko said that experienced teams understood very quickly whether a person could be persuaded to leave or if it was pointless. Still, they can be surprised at times. The police officer recalled a recent example of woman who was refusing point-blank to leave Pokrovsk, a town under constant Russian fire. As a last resort, the rescue team showed her a video message from her sister, whom she had not seen for ten years. 'I'm waiting for you,' the sister said, urging her to evacuate. Within minutes, the woman had packed her belongings and was on the road with the rescue team.


New Straits Times
22-05-2025
- General
- New Straits Times
Clinging to home in the ruins of eastern Ukraine
LIDIA Isayeva, 86, has been living alone in a cellar to shelter from Russian strikes that have destroyed her apartment and part of her hometown. Asked if she has any plans to leave Lyman, a town near the front in eastern Ukraine, she is categorical: "Never!" "I have a paradise here," Isayeva told AFP, in the narrow underground corridor that served as her kitchen, the scent of cooked onions cutting through the musty air. Her husband is buried in the town and she cannot fathom being apart from him. "I want to be close to him, and nowhere else." The answer is the same as on the several previous occasions AFP visited her since last year. "We're home, we'll die at home," she said. Despite the risks, some Ukrainians choose to stay on in the ruins, holding on to a lifetime of memories in towns where many have lived forever. Many are elderly residents who fear they have nowhere else to go or who cannot bear the trauma of leaving. Wearing a purple jumper and felt slippers, Isayeva said she never thought her "life would be like this." Sitting in her armchair, she scrupulously crosses off each passing day on a calender. Millions have fled the fighting in Ukraine's east over the last decade. First when Russian-backed separatists launched an offensive in 2014 and more after Russia's full-scale invasion in 2022. Some have since returned. Isayeva's neighbour, Valentyna Romenska, said she was evacuated to Kyiv three years ago. Everything was going well until the 86-year-old pensioner discovered bedbugs in her new home. She returned to Lyman, just ten kilometres (six miles) from the front, and sees no reason to leave again. The explosions do not bother her because she is "a bit deaf." And anyway, a metal screw she uses to tell "fortunes" recently predicted "peace in May." Two short-term truces declared by Russia have not stopped the fighting – and often complicated evacuation efforts. "Several times we came to an address and the person said, 'Why should I evacuate, it seems to be calm'," said Eduard Skoryk from East SOS, which helps people evacuate from the front. His colleague, 33-year-old Roman Bugayov, said people want everything to work out and are willing to believe "rumours." "It's an optimism that can lead to death," he warned. Skoryk said he recently went to a house where he was supposed to evacuate the residents, only to find it reduced to rubble by a strike. Regional authorities regularly call on residents near the front line to flee, and evacuations are mandatory in the most dangerous areas. The refusal of some residents to leave frustrates those risking their lives to try to save them. Many of the rescuers themselves had to flee their hometowns and know that leaving is scary. But Bugayov said he was "indignant" at some who choose to stay. Sometimes they have to move the same family "two, three, four times" said Pavlo Dyachenko, a police officer from the White Angels unit, which specialises in evacuations. Sometimes people who are evacuated and then return are killed by a strike. A minority of the holdouts are quietly waiting for the Russian army to arrive. Others stay out of fear they cannot afford to live anywhere else. Internal refugees receive a monthly allowance of around US$48 per adult and US$72 per child. Isayeva said she would need "a bag of money" to leave, as her savings would not be enough to get by in areas more expensive than those near the front line. Dyachenko said that experienced teams understood very quickly whether a person could be persuaded to leave or if it was pointless. Still, they can be surprised at times. The police officer recalled a recent example of woman who was refusing point-blank to leave Pokrovsk, a town under constant Russian fire. As a last resort, the rescue team showed her a video message from her sister, whom she had not seen for ten years. "I'm waiting for you," the sister said, urging her to evacuate. Within minutes, the woman had packed her belongings and was on the road with the rescue team.


Time of India
22-05-2025
- General
- Time of India
Clinging to home in the ruins of eastern Ukraine
LYMAN: , 86, has been living alone in a cellar to shelter from Russian strikes that have destroyed her apartment and part of her hometown. Asked if she has any plans to leave Lyman, a town near the front in eastern Ukraine, she is categorical: "Never!" "I have a paradise here," Isayeva told AFP, in the narrow underground corridor that served as her kitchen, the scent of cooked onions cutting through the musty air. Tired of too many ads? go ad free now Her husband is buried in the town and she cannot fathom being apart from him. "I want to be close to him, and nowhere else." The answer is the same as on the several previous occasions AFP visited her since last year. "We're home, we'll die at home," she said. Despite the risks, some Ukrainians choose to stay on in the ruins, holding on to a lifetime of memories in towns where many have lived forever. Many are elderly residents who fear they have nowhere else to go or who cannot bear the trauma of leaving. Wearing a purple jumper and felt slippers, Isayeva said she never thought her "life would be like this". Sitting in her armchair, she scrupulously crosses off each passing day on a calender. Millions have fled the fighting in Ukraine's east over the last decade. First when Russian-backed separatists launched an offensive in 2014 and more after Russia's full-scale invasion in 2022. Dangerous optimism Some have since returned. Isayeva's neighbour, Valentyna Romenska, said she was evacuated to Kyiv three years ago. Everything was going well until the 86-year-old pensioner discovered bedbugs in her new home. She returned to Lyman, just ten kilometres (six miles) from the front, and sees no reason to leave again. The explosions do not bother her because she is "a bit deaf." And anyway, a metal screw she uses to tell "fortunes" recently predicted "peace in May". Two short-term truces declared by Russia have not stopped the fighting and often complicated evacuation efforts. Tired of too many ads? go ad free now "Several times we came to an address and the person said, 'Why should I evacuate, it seems to be calm'," said Eduard Skoryk from East SOS, which helps people evacuate from the front. His colleague, 33-year-old Roman Bugayov, said people want everything to work out and are willing to believe "rumours". "It's an optimism that can lead to death," he warned. Skoryk said he recently went to a house where he was supposed to evacuate the residents, only to find it reduced to rubble by a strike. Leaving is frightening Regional authorities regularly call on residents near the front line to flee, and evacuations are mandatory in the most dangerous areas. The refusal of some residents to leave frustrates those risking their lives to try to save them. Many of the rescuers themselves had to flee their hometowns and know that leaving is scary. But Bugayov said he was "indignant" at some who choose to stay. Sometimes they have to move the same family "two, three, four times" said Pavlo Dyachenko, a police officer from the White Angels unit, which specialises in evacuations. Sometimes people who are evacuated and then return are killed by a strike. A minority of the holdouts are quietly waiting for the Russian army to arrive. Others stay out of fear they cannot afford to live anywhere else. Internal refugees receive a monthly allowance of around $48 per adult and $72 per child. Isayeva said she would need "a bag of money" to leave, as her savings would not be enough to get by in areas more expensive than those near the front line. Dyachenko said that experienced teams understood very quickly whether a person could be persuaded to leave or if it was pointless. Still, they can be surprised at times. The police officer recalled a recent example of woman who was refusing point-blank to leave Pokrovsk, a town under constant Russian fire. As a last resort, the rescue team showed her a video message from her sister, whom she had not seen for ten years. "I'm waiting for you," the sister said, urging her to evacuate. Within minutes, the woman had packed her belongings and was on the road with the rescue team.


Boston Globe
21-02-2025
- Health
- Boston Globe
Russia talks peace while troops threaten new region in Ukraine
The Ukrainian backpedaling can be seen in the westward relocation of the aid station where medics of the 33rd Mechanized Brigade treat wounded soldiers. Late last year, they retreated three times in as many months, hauling medical beds and blood banks in trucks with them. Advertisement The medics never thought they would be forced to entirely abandon Donetsk, an area where their unit had fought for a year, and retreat over its western boundary into Dnipropetrovsk. Earlier this year, that became a reality. Now, the medics fear Moscow's troops will soon follow. 'It always happens this way,' said Lieutenant Vitalii Voitiuk, head of the brigade's medical unit. 'When medical units start moving into an area, it means the front line isn't far behind.' He was speaking at his new aid station near the front line where injured soldiers receive lifesaving care before being sent to a hospital farther behind the lines. Outside the aid station, the distant rumble of outgoing artillery fire echoed through the night. 'That alone tells you the war is getting closer,' said Voitiuk, a burly 34-year-old. Civilians, too, are bracing for the fight. Some have already evacuated — including those who fled the war in the east earlier and do not want to be caught in the violence again — while others are making plans to relocate. Advertisement 'When we read the requests to evacuate people from Dnipropetrovsk, it felt terrifying,' said Bohdan Zahorulko, a worker at East SOS, a Ukrainian nongovernment organization helping internally displaced people. 'But it was also a wake-up call about the reality of the fight.' Russia's push toward Dnipropetrovsk, an area of more than 3 million people with major steel mills, builds on six months of rapid advances in Donetsk. Since August, its troops have captured an average of about 180 square miles of territory each month in Ukraine, nearly four times the size of San Francisco, according to the Black Bird Group, a Finland research company. Most of those gains were in Donetsk. In recent weeks, Russia's advance has slowed. Franz-Stefan Gady, a Vienna-based military expert who recently returned from a research trip in eastern Ukraine, attributed the slowdown to bad weather hindering Russian mechanized assaults and airstrikes. He also noted Ukraine's effective use of drones to hit troops and armored vehicles. 'But drones can't hold territory,' said Lieutenant Colonel Vadim Balyuk, commander of the Shkval Special Forces Assault Battalion in Ukraine's 59th Brigade. Speaking from a small wooden house in the border area, where he monitors live battlefield footage on screens, he said his unit's job is to do what drones cannot: secure control of villages and clear a path for Ukrainian infantry to move in. Balyuk said his unit had recently cleared two settlements of Russian forces, which could have been used to support their push toward Dnipropetrovsk. But he had no illusions that the fight was over. 'The enemy is just regrouping now,' he said. Advertisement Soldiers returning from the Donetsk front said Ukraine's biggest battlefield challenge remains unchanged: an enemy whose overwhelming manpower advantage allows for relentless assaults. Dmytro, 35, an infantryman with a concussion, was evacuated to the 33rd Mechanized Brigade's aid point one recent night. He described a four-hour trench battle so fierce that he could not lift his head above the parapet to spot attacking Russian troops. But from the incoming fire, he said, he could tell they were advancing in small groups, methodically closing in. 'All the soldiers from my section of the trench were evacuated,' said Dmytro, who declined to give his last name per military rules. In Mezhova, a small town in Dnipropetrovsk standing in the path of the Russian advance, the number of soldiers at times appears to outnumber civilians — they queue at the post office and crowd into cafes, and their olive-green pickups line the streets. The new reality weighs heaviest on refugees who fled the Donetsk region earlier in the war and resettled in Mezhova and nearby settlements. Over the past three years, the population has surged from 14,000 to 21,000 with their arrival. 'For so long, we thought this place was safe,' said Nelia Seimova, who moved to Mezhova in August after escaping Novohrodivka, which is now under Russian occupation. 'I had plans — buying a house, getting a job, sending my child to school. A normal life.' Now, Seimova, 33, is planning to move again, farther west. She knows from experience not to wait for the town to be hit with regular bombardment. 'We've been through this before,' she said, tears filling her eyes. Advertisement Volodymyr Zrazhevsky, the mayor of Mezhova, is also worried about airstrikes, particularly glide bombs — powerful weapons carrying hundreds of pounds of explosives that Russia often uses to level towns before ground assaults. Each day, Zrazhevsky studies a battlefield map marked with circles indicating which cities are within the range of the bombs as Russian forces advance. For now, Mezhova is safe. 'But we understand that if it happens — and it will at some point — we'll need to take drastic measures,' he said, possibly mandatory evacuations. This article originally appeared in .