Latest news with #Halyna
Boston Globe
27-05-2025
- Boston Globe
More than 200 Ukrainian POWs have died in Russian prisons. This is one soldier's story.
When Hryhoriev finally came home, though, it was in a body bag. A Russian death certificate said the 59-year-old died of a stroke. But a Ukrainian autopsy and a former POW who was detained with him tell a different story about how he died – one of violence and medical neglect at the hands of his captors. Advertisement Hryhoriev is one of more than 200 Ukrainian POWs who have died while imprisoned since Russia's full-scale invasion three years ago. Abuse inside Russian prisons was likely a contributing factor in many of these deaths, according to officials from human rights groups, the U.N., the Ukrainian government and a Ukrainian medical examiner who has performed dozens of POW autopsies. The officials say the prison death toll adds to evidence that Russia is systematically brutalizing captured soldiers. They say forensic discrepancies like Hryhoriev's, and the repatriation of bodies that are mutilated and decomposed, point to an effort to cover up alleged torture, starvation and poor health care at dozens of prisons and detention centers across Russia and occupied Ukraine. Russian authorities did not respond to requests for comment. They have previously accused Ukraine of mistreating Russian POWs — allegations the U.N. has partially backed up, though it says Ukraine's violations are far less common and severe than what Russia is accused of. Advertisement 'Alive and well' Hryhoriev joined the Ukrainian army in 2019 after he lost his job as an office worker at a high school. When the war began three years later, he was stationed with other soldiers in Mariupol, an industrial port city that was the site of a fierce battle — and far from his home in the central Poltava region. On April 10, 2022, Hryhoriev called his family to reassure them that 'everything will be all right.' That was the last time they ever spoke to him. Two days later, a relative of a soldier in Hryhoriev's unit called to say the men had been captured. After Mariupol fell to Russia, more than 2,000 soldiers defending the city became Russian prisoners. Soon his family got a call from the International Committee of the Red Cross, which confirmed he was alive and officially registered as a POW, guaranteeing his protection under the Geneva Conventions. 'We were told: 'that means everything is fine … Russia has to return him,'' Hryhoriev's wife, Halyna, recalled. In August 2022, she received a letter from him, that addressed her by a nickname. 'My dear Halochka,' he wrote. 'I am alive and well. Everything will be all right.' Desperate for more information, his daughter Oksana, 31, scoured Russian social media accounts, where videos of Ukrainian POWs regularly appeared. Eventually, she saw him in one — looking gaunt and missing teeth. His gray hair was cropped very short, framing gentle features now partially covered by a beard. Advertisement In the video, likely shot under duress, Hryhoriev said to the camera: 'I'm alive and well.' 'But if you looked at him, you could see that wasn't true,' Oksana said. The truth was dismal, said Oleksii Honcharov, a 48-year-old Ukrainian POW who was detained with him. Honcharov lived in the same prison barracks as Hryhoriev starting in the fall of 2022. Over a period of months, he witnessed Hryhoriev absorb the same severe punishment as every other POW at the Kamensk-Shakhtinsky Correctional Colony in southwest Russia. 'Everyone got hit -- no exceptions,' said Honcharov, who was repatriated to Ukraine in February as part of a prisoner swap. 'Some more, some less, but we all took it.' Honcharov endured months of chest pain while in captivity. Even then, the beatings never stopped, he said, and sometimes they began after his pleas for medical care, which were ignored. 'Toward the end, I could barely walk,' said Honcharov, who was diagnosed with tuberculosis once back in Ukraine – an increasingly common ailment among returning POWs. A 2024 U.N. report found that 95% of released Ukrainian POWs had endured 'systematic' torture. Prisoners described beatings, electric shocks, suffocation, sexual violence, prolonged stress positions, mock executions, and sleep deprivation. 'This conduct could not be more unlawful,' said Danielle Bell, the U.N.'s top human rights monitor in Ukraine. The report also said some Russian POWs were mistreated by Ukrainian forces during their initial capture -- including beatings, threats and electric shocks. But the abuse stopped once Russian POWs were moved to official Ukrainian detention centers, the report said. Hryhoriev was physically strong and often outlasted younger prisoners during forced exercises, Honcharov recalled. But over time, he began showing signs of physical decline: dizziness, fatigue and, eventually, an inability to walk without help. Advertisement Yet despite his worsening condition, prison officials provided only minimal health care, Honcharov said. Piecing together how POWs died In a bright, sterile room with the sour-sweet smell of human decomposition, Inna Padei performs autopsies on Ukrainian soldiers repatriated by Russia, as well as civilians exhumed from mass graves. Hundreds of bodies zipped up in black plastic bags have been delivered in refrigerated trucks to the morgue where she works in Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine. Those who died in battle are still wearing military fatigues and often have obvious external wounds. The bodies of former POWs are dressed in prison uniforms and are often mutilated and decomposed. It is the job of Padei and other forensic experts to piece together how soldiers like Hryhoriev died. These reports are often the only reliable information the soldiers' families get — and they will be used by Ukraine, along with testimony from former POWs, to bring war crimes charges against Russia at the International Criminal Court. The body of a former POW recently examined by Padei had an almond-sized fracture on the right side of its skull. That suggested the soldier was struck by a blunt object – a blow potentially strong enough to have killed him instantly, or shortly after, she said. 'These injuries may not always be the direct cause of death,' Padei said, 'but they clearly indicate the use of force and torture against the servicemen.' Earlier this year, Amnesty International documented widespread torture of Ukrainian POWs in Russia. Its report was especially critical of Russia's secrecy regarding the whereabouts and condition of POWs, saying it refused to grant rights groups or health workers access to its prisons, leaving families in the dark for months or years about their loved ones. Advertisement Of the more than 5,000 POWs Russia has repatriated to Ukraine, at least 206 died in captivity, including more than 50 when an explosion ripped through a Russian-controlled prison barracks, according to the Ukrainian government. An additional 245 Ukrainian POWs were killed by Russian soldiers on the battlefield, according to Ukrainian prosecutors. The toll of dead POWs is expected to rise as more bodies are returned and identified, but forensic experts face significant challenges in determining causes of death. In some cases, internal organs are missing. Other times, it appears as if bruises or injuries have been hidden or removed. Ukrainian officials believe the mutilation of bodies is an effort by Russia to conceal the true causes of death. Extreme decomposition is another obstacle, officials say. 'They hold the bodies until they reach a state where nothing can be determined,' said Petro Yatsenko, a spokesperson for the Ukrainian government agency in charge of POW affairs. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has said the prompt exchange of POWs must be part of any ceasefire agreement, along with the return of thousands of Ukrainian civilians, including children forcibly deported to Russia. A major prisoner exchange between Russia and Ukraine took place over the weekend. The Associated Press interviewed relatives of 21 Ukrainian POWs who died in captivity. Autopsies performed in Ukraine found that five of these POWs died of heart failure, including soldiers who were 22, 39 and 43. Four others died from tuberculosis or pneumonia, and three others perished, respectively, from an infection, asphyxia and a blunt force head wound. Advertisement Padei said cases like these — and others she has seen — are red flags, suggesting that physical abuse and untreated injuries and illness likely contributed to many soldiers' deaths. 'Under normal or humane conditions, these would not have been fatal,' Padei said. In one autopsy report, coroners said an individual had been electrocuted and beaten just days before dying of heart failure and extreme emaciation. Other autopsies noted that bodies showed signs of gangrene or untreated infections. 'Everything the returned prisoners describe … we see the same on the bodies,' Padei said. 'Angel in the sky' Months into Hryhoriev's detention at the Kamensk-Shakhtinsky prison – and after his daughter saw him in the Russian army's social media video -- his health deteriorated significantly, according to Honcharov. But instead of being sent to a hospital, Hryhoriev was moved to a tiny cell that was isolated from other prisoners. Another Ukrainian captive, a paramedic, was assigned to stay with him. 'It was damp, cold, with no lighting at all,' recalled Honcharov. He died in that cell about a month later, Honcharov said. It was May 20, 2023, according to his Russian death certificate. The Hryhoriev family didn't learn he had died until more than six months later, when a former POW reached out. Then, in March 2024, police in central Ukraine called: A body had arrived with a Russian death certificate bearing Hryhoriev's name. A DNA test confirmed it was him. An autopsy performed in Ukraine disputed Russia's claim that Hryhoriev died of a stroke. It said he bled to death after blunt trauma to his abdomen that also damaged his spleen. Hryhoriev's body was handed over to the family last June, and soon after he was buried in his hometown of Pyriatyn. To honor him, Hryhoriev's wife and older daughter, Yana, followed Oksana's lead and tattooed their wrists with the optimistic expression he had drilled into them. 'Now we have an angel in the sky watching over us,' Halyna said. 'We believe everything will be all right.' Associated Press reporters Yehor Konovalov, Alex Babenko and Anton Shtuka in Kyiv, and Dasha Litvinova in Tallinn, Estonia, contributed to this report.
CBC
11-05-2025
- Health
- CBC
My wife, my children and I were all born in different countries. But Canada is the best place on Earth
This First Person article is the experience of Itrat Anwar, a newcomer to Canada who now calls Steinbach, Man., his home. For more info rmation about CBC's First Person stories, please see this FAQ. You can read more First Person articles here. As I reflect on our journey, I am reminded not only of how far we've come, but also of the many others in this country — each with their own unique paths — who, like us, are building new lives in Canada. My name is Itrat and I live in Steinbach, Man., with my family. Originally from Bangladesh, I am proud to share my life with my wife, Halyna, who hails from Ukraine. Together, we have two wonderful children: our older daughter was born in Slovakia and our younger one was born right here in Canada. Our family spans four countries, and we often joke that we're a little "United Nations" under one roof. With a Canadian-born child in our family, we feel even more deeply connected to this land we now call home. Our journey to Canada began when the Russian invasion of Ukraine started in February 2022. My wife Halyna, who was pregnant at the time, was visiting her mother in Ukraine just a few days before the war began. Tragically, her mother passed away from a heart attack two days before the invasion. The combination of her pregnancy, the overwhelming loss of her mother, and the daily threat of war — including having to run to a basement during air raid alarms — left her in a deeply traumatic situation. Given the situation, we decided to move from Dubai, where we were living, to Bangladesh, so that my wife could recover. Her health was our top priority. While in Bangladesh, she had the opportunity to meet my parents, my brother and other relatives, and feel the warmth of their love and kindness. Her days were filled with meeting new people, learning new things, tasting traditional foods and experiencing rural life in Bangladesh. We had everything we needed in Bangladesh — except a safer and better future for our kids. We then decided to move to Slovakia, because my wife had residency there, and we needed access to reliable health care and insurance during her pregnancy. During this time, our first child was born in Bratislava — one of the most challenging yet precious moments of our lives. It wasn't easy. We had no steady income and, as first-time parents, we were navigating everything on our own, without a support network. Life as a new immigrant in Europe was very different from what we would later experience in Canada. The systems were harder to access, the support less visible, and at times, we felt completely alone. Then we learned about the Canada-Ukraine authorization for emergency travel program and decided to apply. (Moving to Canada wasn't our first plan. Before the war broke out, we had always discussed settling in Ukraine and raising our family there.) Shortly after, we received our Canadian visas, and we began applying for our daughter's passport and Canadian visa. Warm welcomes and challenges At this point, we had all the necessary documents, but after five months of living in Europe without work permits, we were running out of money. We were down to our last few hundred euros when we bought our tickets to Canada. When we finally arrived in Canada, we had only $500 left to our name. Travelling with a four-month-old baby, with so little money and so many uncertainties about our future, was incredibly difficult. The cold Canadian winter greeted us immediately upon our arrival at Toronto Pearson International Airport, and we found ourselves wondering what to do next. We found a place to live in Mississauga, Ont., and focused on finding my first job. We were blessed to meet kind, supportive people … who helped us settle in Steinbach. The first thing we noticed here in Canada was the people — their kindness, their willingness to help, and how they respond to your "hi" with a friendly smile. But there were also challenges. We found it difficult to adjust to the public transportation system. You need your own vehicle here. I remember how we walked with our baby in a stroller on pedestrian paths covered in icy snow. Sometimes, my wife and I had to lift the stroller to cross those areas. I dreamed of securing a job that would align with my background and skill set. But finding work was a struggle. With no Canadian work experience and no driver's licence, I began applying for at least 10 jobs a day. Over the course of two months, I sent out hundreds of job applications. I found my first job in Steinbach. While it didn't align with my background, I took the opportunity because we had reached the end of our patience. Within two days, we made the move to Steinbach from Mississauga. Though we didn't know anyone in this small city and had little more than our baby and a dream, we felt that despite all the uncertainty, we had come this far and could manage — and we did. We were blessed to meet kind, supportive people (like Nick Mazerolle, the Brand family and many others) who helped us settle in Steinbach. They are all truly wonderful people. Life as a new immigrant is never easy. Being far from home, separated from relatives, and facing constant uncertainty — these challenges can feel overwhelming. I've faced racism, discrimination and inequality. There are moments when we find ourselves longing for the vibrant life in Dubai, the stunning architecture of Europe, and our home countries, where our parents have yet to meet their grandchildren. But we are incredibly grateful to be here. We recognize that life here is much better than in some European countries. I'm committed to supporting marginalized communities and helping create a more inclusive future for our children. I have a better job now. We own a vehicle, live in a nice house and are excited to raise our family in this beautiful country. From its breathtaking landscapes to its welcoming communities, Canada has already captured our hearts. As we continue to learn about and explore the beauty of this land, I have a strong desire to visit different regions and deepen our understanding of its rich history — especially the stories of Indigenous peoples and their profound connection to this land. Our experiences across different continents have shown us that Canada is, without a doubt, the best place on Earth.
Yahoo
09-05-2025
- Yahoo
Woman living alone on her street evacuated with 12 dogs from Sumy Oblast
White Angels evacuation teams from the police have evacuated a local woman and her 12 dogs from a border area in Sumy Oblast. Source: Sumy Oblast Police Details: Halyna Oleksandrivna was the only resident remaining on her street, living among houses destroyed by Russian attacks and under constant threat, the Sumy Oblast police reported. The woman was afraid to remain under bombardment but had refused to leave because she could not abandon her 12 dogs, who had become her family. Many people tried to persuade Halyna to evacuate without her animals, but she remained firm: "Either with all of them, or not at all." She called everyone she could to ask for help, but was repeatedly turned down. Some could not reach the dangerous area, and others lacked transport for so many animals. However, the White Angel crew did not leave the woman in trouble. Law enforcement officers came to the village and took Halyna and all her four-legged friends. Now the woman and her pets are in a safer place. "Saying goodbye to the police near her new shelter, she sincerely thanked them for their help and support in the most difficult moments of her life," the police said. Background: Earlier, a 70-year-old man took three cows and a dog out of Donetsk Oblast. He was heading to Poltava Oblast, but volunteers spotted him near Izium and helped him evacuate. Support Ukrainska Pravda on Patreon!
Yahoo
04-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
'I just hate the Russians' — Kyiv district recovers from drone strike as ceasefire remains elusive
When a Russian drone strike set a high-rise across the street on fire just after midnight on May 4, 34-year-old veteran Petro Kryvoruka shook his wife, Halyna, awake in their Kyiv apartment. As the buzzing of drones continued, he braced for another explosion. "I told (my wife), 'Something is coming, it must be nearby,'" Kryvoruka told the Kyiv Independent the morning after the attack. "We decided to move to the corridor." Moments later, more explosions rocked Kyiv's Obolon district, in the northern part of the capital. The blast wave shattered the windows in the couple's seventh-floor apartment in a nine-story building, covering the couch where Halyna, 36, had been sleeping just minutes earlier with glass. "How do I feel now? I just hate them (the Russians). That's it," she told the Kyiv Independent. According to local authorities, the drone strike affected three locations in the district, damaging around five high-rise buildings. It remains unclear whether the destruction was caused by direct drone hits or falling debris. The Sviatoshynskyi and Shevchenkivskyi districts of Kyiv were also hit in the attack. Eleven people were injured in the overnight attack, the State Emergency Service reported in its latest update on May 4. The head of the Kyiv City Military Administration, Tymur Tkachenko, said that two children, aged 14 and 17, were among the injured. Kyrylo Fesyk, the head of the Obolon District State Administration, later in the morning refuted those reports, saying there were no casualties in the area. The attack comes as Moscow floats talks of a ceasefire while stepping up its attacks against Ukraine. In the past week alone, Russia has launched more than 1,180 attack drones, 1,360 guided bombs, and 10 missiles at Ukraine, President Volodymyr Zelensky said on May 4. The attack struck a quiet neighborhood of Obolon, an outer district of the city located nearest to Kyiv's suburbs. "There is absolutely nothing here, not even theoretically, that could be considered a military target. There aren't even any industrial facilities," Fesyk told the Kyiv Independent at the site of the attack as emergency response efforts were underway. "There's just a large, well-known mall, children's centers, and small businesses." The Russian drone attack damaged one of the buildings of the Dream Town Mall, located between the Minska and Heroiv Dnipra metro stations. The shopping mall, made up of two huge buildings, each spanning 80,000 square meters, houses multiple clothing stores, restaurants, household goods stores, and various entertainment venues. Despite the attack, it continued to operate the following morning, albeit partially. A beauty salon and a supermarket next to the mall were also damaged, as well as a nearby kindergarten. Several burned-out cars surround the crater left by the drone strike. One of them belonged to Kryvoruka. "It's a piece of iron. Thank God we are alive," his wife said. "It's upsetting that these situations keep happening," Petro Kryvoruka continued, leaning on his cane. He returned from the front lines after being wounded two years ago. "These bastards — there's really no other word for them — just don't want to calm down, and it's the civilian population that suffers. While they sit there negotiating, playing tug-of-war, it's civilians who are paying the price," he said. Earlier this week, Russian President Vladimir Putin declared a three-day ceasefire for Russia's Victory Day commemorations between May 7 and 9 — a move that Zelensky dismissed as a "theatrical performance," aimed at easing Russia's international isolation and creating a favorable atmosphere for Moscow. In early March, Kyiv agreed to a U.S.-backed strategy calling for an unconditional 30-day ceasefire. The Kremlin has so fas refused. "A ceasefire means we have to make some kind of compromises," Kryvoruka said. "How can we (Ukraine) agree to compromises? What are we even fighting for if we end up having to give something away? Our people won't understand why we're dying, getting injured, and living the rest of our lives disabled." Hello there! This is Kateryna Denisova, the author of this piece. Russia's attacks on Ukraine continue relentlessly, with no ceasefire in sight. This drone strike on Kyiv didn't feel like any other to me — it hit dangerously close, just a few minutes walk from my home. My colleagues and I are working around the clock to keep you informed. Please consider supporting our reporting. This makes our work possible. Read also: If authoritarians are scared of journalists, we must be doing something right We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.
Times
02-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
Rust review — film drenched in blood cannot escape off-screen tragedy
After the screen snaps to black at the end of Rust, a message appears reading: '… for Halyna.' After that, a quote is ascribed to Halyna Hutchins: 'What can we do to make this better?' Then, her name fades to its spelling in her native Ukrainian. After a card bearing the name of Joel Souza, the director, the next card reads: 'Cinematographer Halyna Hutchins, ASC.' These memorial codas from the American Society of Cinematographers are touching, even if Rust's official release in America feels an acutely queasy exercise after the accidental death of Hutchins on the set of Rust in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in October 2021. Alec Baldwin, who plays the film's protagonist, was positioning a revolver during filming when it went
