Latest news with #Maryna
Yahoo
2 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
‘Tattoos of war' — haunting portraits of Ukrainians' most painful wartime memories (PHOTOS)
In everyday life, these people might appear normal: they have no physical wounds, their loved ones and children are alive by their side. But Ukrainian photographer Sergey Melnitchenko's black-and-white portraits reveal the chilling depths that stand between his subjects and normalcy. They gaze outward with calm, matter-of-fact expressions, while the massive superimposed projection of their most haunting war memories distorts their features. The subjects choose the photos themselves, said Melnitchenko, who features his friends, fiancée, and son in a conceptual photography project, "Tattoos of war." The photo — either taken by the subjects or sourced on news websites — represents the most painful memory they associate with Russia's invasion of Ukraine that began in February 2022. After more than three years of relentless Russian attacks on the country that have killed tens of thousands of people, Ukrainians face no shortage of such memories. "It is an impossible task, in fact," Melnitchenko told the Kyiv Independent. "Because everyone has hundreds of these memories. You have to choose one, as if to convince yourself that this event was the most difficult, the most tragic. Although every event that concerns our country during the war is the worst." For Melnitchenko, each photo from the project carries the weight of events that he and his subjects can still hardly comprehend. One of the most challenging portraits for him was a photo of his friends Maryna and Serhii against the backdrop of the Mykolaiv Regional State Administration in their native city, destroyed by a Russian missile on March 29, 2022. As a result of the attack, the central section of the building collapsed from the ninth to the first floor, killing 37 people. Maryna and Serhii fled the city a year ago, but the memory — a 'tattoo' — will stay with them forever, Melnitchenko says in his photo book about the project. But during the last shoot from the series at the end of 2024 with the family of Andrii, Viktoria, and their daughter Kira, Melnitchenko witnessed for the first time how one could transform their tragic memories into a source of strength. The family chose a photo of a beach with pine trees on a riverbank of the Dnipro River, where they loved spending time before the full-scale invasion began. Russia currently occupies this beach in Kakhovka, Kherson region. But even under occupation, the vision from the photograph is probably long gone, as Russia's destruction of the Kakhovka hydroelectric power plant's dam reshaped the water terrain in the oblast. According to the photographer, the family found it therapeutic to process the loss of their favorite place by visually exposing its impact. "When Russians destroy our favorite places, or places of our memories, they are trying to take away not only this place physically, but also our good memories of them," Melnitchenko said. "This family was the first of all the heroes to choose not a photo of devastation as a background, but a photo with a place of their strength and pleasant memories," he added. "My son's 'war tattoo' will remain anyway, because he is a child of war, he knows what is happening now and (will) realize it all as an adult," Sergey said. "We seem to choose for ourselves the picture and the memory that hurt us the most ... But, in fact, we have had thousands of such moments in the last year alone." Read also: Growing up under missiles — Ukrainian childhoods shaped by war (Photos) We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.
Irish Examiner
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Examiner
Wedding of the Week: Ukrainian and Irish traditions blended in humanist ceremony
Love overcame language barriers as guests congratulated Maryna Pidhorna and David Connolly after a humanist ceremony that blended Ukrainian and Irish traditions. The traditional 'rushnyk' [ritual cloth] from the bride's homeland featured as the couple exchanged vows in the Greenhills Hotel in Limerick city. Maryna, from Kyiv, and David, from Limerick, were wed by celebrant Billy Mag Fhloinn and held their reception in the same venue. Maryna Pidhorna and David Connolly. Pictures: Joe Diggins Photography 'It was absolutely fabulous, the unity of our cultures integrated within the ceremony was very special,' says the bride, a childcare assistant. Maryna and David, a carer, professional football coach and intermediary, first met on a night out in Tipperary town in February 2023. Maryna Pidhorna and David Connolly. Pictures: Joe Diggins Photography 'Things progressed to our dating regularly from there — cinema, a Ukrainian performance of 'Swan Lake' at the University of Limerick, dinner and dancing, travelling to beaches, wine and falling in love,' she says. David popped the question before the year's end. 'We got engaged on December 5, 2023, in the very first restaurant we dined out together, La Candela, in Tipperary town,' he says. Maryna Pidhorna and David Connolly. Pictures: Joe Diggins Photography Maryna had first visited Ireland as a Chernobyl child in the 1980s, staying in Co Cork. Fleeing war in Ukraine she returned to Blarney in 2022 with her sister and their young children, where she made many more friends, among them Kate Durrant and Val Kirby, before Maryna had to relocate to Limerick. Kate and Val were overjoyed when invitations to Maryna and David's wedding dropped through their letterboxes. Val Kirby and Kate Durrant with bride Maryna Pidhorna. 'As 'Chernobyl children', Maryna had been part of the Rest and Recuperation summer programme that brought Ukrainian children to Ireland to give them respite from the toxic fallout of the nuclear disaster,' says Kate. Three years ago, when Kate encountered Maryna, she saw a woman who swiftly 'put her own needs aside to offer her services in the local hospital as a translator, easing the burden on her fellow countrymen and women receiving treatment'. Maryna Pidhorna and David Connolly with Deanna, Zhenia and Tristan. Pictures: Joe Diggins Photography Maryna and her sister, she adds, 'enrolled their children in our local schools and clubs, helping out in any way they could', before housing constraints forced another move. 'It was a tough transition, not that they complained, but relocating their families to yet another school, and a new soccer club for Maryna's talented, and football-mad, teenage son, was another bump on their already rocky road,' says Kate. Maryna Pidhorna and Deanna Connolly. Pictures: Joe Diggins Photography 'We stayed in touch and were thrilled when she told us she had fallen in love, even more so when we received photographs of her new baby.' On her big day, the bride wore a glamorous Missacc gown and did her own makeup, with her hair styled by Limerick hairstylist Jess McGrath. The groom and his party bought their suits at Dave Mc's Menswear, Tipperary. David Connolly made his entrance with their sons Zhenia and Tristan. Pictures: Joe Diggins Photography For his entrance music, David chose the theme song of Ukrainian world boxing champion Oleksandr Usyk. 'David was accompanied by our two sons, Zhenia and Tristan,' says Maryna. Maryna Pidhorna and David Connolly. Pictures: Joe Diggins Photography 'My entrance music was the Ukrainian song Pal lal lal and I was accompanied by our daughter Deanna and my sister Larissa.' Maryna's mother, Galina, and David's dad, Andrew, were present, and the professional duo Niall and Louise, also relatives of the groom, provided the music. Maryna Pidhorna and David Connolly. Pictures: Joe Diggins Photography 'We had a fantastic mime performance by Mike and Richie with three female backup dancers that lit up the crowd,' says Maryna. Joe Diggins ( was behind the lens. Maryna Pidhorna and David Connolly. Pictures: Joe Diggins Photography The couple, who will live in Knocklong, Co Limerick, honeymooned in Portugal. If you would like your wedding featured in Weekend email
Yahoo
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Award-Winning Designer Maryna Karpenko Honored for Shaping Consumer and B2B Experiences at Meta, Mattermost, Hily, and Wavechat
Award-winning product designer Maryna Karpenko is recognized for her leadership in shaping messaging and live-streaming experiences at Meta, Mattermost, Hily, and Wavechat. She has earned top industry honors for her work connecting millions of users worldwide. Image Courtesy of Maryna Karpenko SAN FRANCISCO, May 21, 2025 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) -- Maryna Karpenko, an award-winning product designer and digital product leader whose previous work has reached millions of people worldwide, has joined Meta, where she helps shape the future of digital communication on a global scale. Some of Maryna's top honors include the MUSE Creative Award, the Vega Digital Award, and the Davey Award. Previously, Maryna led the mobile messaging experience at Mattermost, an open-source platform for secure collaboration and workflow orchestration, and Y Combinator's largest-ever Series B investment. There, she redefined how teams connect in high-trust environments like government, finance, and tech. Maryna first made her mark at Hily, a fast-growing dating app, where she launched live-streaming features that helped users connect in more meaningful ways and stand out in a crowded market. She was also the Lead Product Designer at Wavechat, where she built the app from the ground up. Her work led to a win at Product Hunt's Maker Festival (Snapchat Edition) and a feature on the Apple App Store. How it Started Maryna Karpenko's passion for design began early. As a child, she balanced competitive gymnastics with hours spent exploring the online world. She taught herself Photoshop through YouTube tutorials and quickly became captivated by the creative possibilities of digital tools. 'I was always drawn to making things on a screen,' she says. A defining moment came when a classmate brought a first-generation iPod to school. 'I remember how natural it felt to use—so intuitive and thoughtfully made. That was the moment I realized great products don't just solve problems; they feel like magic. I knew then that I wanted to build things like that,' Karpenko recalls. Gifted in math, she pursued a degree in applied mathematics while continuing to develop her creative skills. Over time, her curiosity shifted toward understanding how people think and feel, leading her to study psychology. By the time she graduated, product design had emerged as a defined career path, with inspiring role models like Julie Zhuo and Luke Wroblewski leading the way. 'It finally clicked for me: this was the path that blended creativity, technology, and human insight,' she says. Her path to a third degree in design was not easy. But looking back, Karpenko credits her diverse academic background and creative drive with shaping her into the designer she is today. Operating at the Intersection of Disciplines Steve Jobs famously championed the idea that great innovation happens when technology meets the humanities. At the launch of the iPad 2, he summed up Apple's approach:"It's in Apple's DNA that technology alone is not enough — it's technology married with liberal arts, married with the humanities, that yields us the results that make our heart sing." Maryna Karpenko, a dedicated student of Apple's design philosophy, echoes this belief. She credits her cross-disciplinary background as a core driver of her work: "Psychology helps me understand people—their context, motivations, and mental models. Math gave me the structured thinking to collaborate deeply with engineers. And design school taught me how to bring it all together to solve real human problems." Giving Back to the Community As a respected voice in the design community, Maryna Karpeno serves as a jury panelist for the Communicator Awards and is an active member of the Academy of Interactive and Visual Arts (AIVA), where she helps spotlight the work of the next generation of designers. She shares that, 'I've been incredibly lucky to have people take a chance on me. Now it's my turn to help emerging talent get seen.' Contact info: San Francisco, CAContact Name: Maryna KarpenkoEmail address: A photo accompanying this announcement is available at in to access your portfolio
Yahoo
17-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
New Italian restaurant with Asian twist to open
A new Italian restaurant with a differencxe is set to open along a high street in Dorset next month. The owners of a new Italian restaurant with an Indian twist are excited ahead of opening along the High West Street in Dorchester next month. Varun Pizza is set to open around mid-June, according to new owner Varun Balagopalan, taking on at the site of the former takeaway Mega Pizza, which closed suddenly in March. Mr Balagopalan, who will be running the business with his wife Maryna, has spoken of his excitement, and what visitors can expect from the new restaurant. He said: 'We're waiting a maximum of a month before we open. We've had a complete re-build and re-branding and have had to work around Bank Holidays and Easter but now we're on track to complete the finishing touches soon.' Varun and Maryna of Varun Pizza in Dorchester, opening next month (Image: Varun Pizza) The servings dished up at the new restaurant will initially be pizza, with a twist of Indian fusion, according to Mr Balagopalan, before more will be added in the months following. He said: 'We wanted to bring our passions to Dorchester and 90 per cent of the menu will be what you would expect at a standard Italian, with 10 per cent fusion of Indian food which is our unique selling point. 'We also have a number of salads and starters before we will slowly add things like pasta to the menu, as we have done with our other business.' Mr Balagopalan already operates Varun Pizza in Lymington for the past few years, and is hoping to bring that same quality of care and food to the county town of Dorset. He said: 'We are very proud of our popularity in Lymington, especially with our Gluten Free pizza option. It's the best quality in the area because we import a special, quite expensive, base from Italy. A lot of customers really praise us on our base quality, expecting only the best nice and tasty pizzas. "We're looking forward to sharing this with the people of Dorchester and can't wait to get started."
Yahoo
24-04-2025
- General
- Yahoo
"Relatives said: people like you should be killed." The story of a woman who survived torture and fled occupied Mariupol twice
Maryna used to be very fond of flowers. At home and at her dacha, she had planted absolutely everything that could be grown in the Azov climate – roses, hyacinths, daffodils, dahlias, hibiscus, tulips of all colours and sizes, and even blue daisies. There were also conifers that she had planted herself. Maryna recalls her garden when she talks about Mariupol. Like her hometown, it remains behind the barbed wire of occupation. Maryna's mother moved to Mariupol from the Carpathian mountains in western Ukraine, where she gave birth to Maryna. Maryna's children, a daughter and a son, grew up in the city on the Sea of Azov. Her parents are buried here, and she is no longer able to visit their graves. Suffering from cancer, Maryna survived bombardments, ended up in Russian torture chambers with her daughter, and then searched for her son, who was in the military and about whom she had heard no news for months. After several unsuccessful attempts, Maryna, her daughter, and her son managed to escape. Now they are free but separated, living in different parts of the world. Documents and keys are the only things they have left of their former lives. Maryna told Ukrainska (Life) about surviving in Mariupol, returning to the occupied city for the sake of her son and fleeing her beloved home city, now controlled by the enemy. Her name has been changed for security reasons. Mariupol's Kalmiuskyi (formerly known as Illichivskyi) district before the full-scale war Photo: Tetiana Aster Maryna used to live in Mariupol's Kalmiuskyi district. She worked as a seamstress at a boarding school, then as a courier at the Illich and Azovstal metallurgical plants. She saw both the dark and gloomy Mariupol of the 1990s and the one that it had become a few years before the full-scale war, with new parks, fountains, and bike paths. Then the Russians came, and the cosy city remained only in her memory. The war hit as Maryna was in a house near the village of Sartana. Maryna's large family included an elderly father, father-in-law, husband, 19-year-old daughter and son-in-law who was in the military. They also had two large dogs in their yard. Maryna's family did not leave the city because the elderly people downright refused to leave their home. "This is our land, so we will die here", Maryna recalls her elderly father saying. It was not the first time the war had knocked on the doors of Mariupol: residents remembered the attacks and relatively quick liberation in 2014, so many did not take the first explosions in February 2022 seriously. Maryna and her daughter considered evacuating in the first days, when they had the opportunity, but they didn't dare to go through with it. The residential area where Maryna lived was a quiet place at first. Her daughter and her husband were renovating their apartment on the left bank at that time, and it was a pity to leave everything behind. When the mobile network, electricity, water, and gas were cut off in the city, it became clear that they had to prepare for long-term survival. Maryna still had a supply of food, plus everything they had managed to buy in the first days, while some shops were open. She was also lucky with water – there was a large five-cubic-metre rainwater well in her yard, so she didn't have to queue for wells under fire. "People on our street agreed that if there is a strike, everyone would run to the scene and dig out and rescue anyone trapped under rubble. We agreed not to abandon each other. There were a lot of elderly people – my daughter and I brought them food and pills. We helped them bandage their wounds while there were still bandages available", Maryna recalls. The first attack from Grad multiple-launch rocket systems occurred on 7 March. One rocket fell right on the border of their garden. On that day, Maryna's neighbours knocked on her door as they came to buy petrol to flee to Dnipro. "Oh no, there is no evacuation corridor, no one can leave", Maryna told them, but they didn't listen. The next morning, on 8 March, the Russians shot at her neighbours' car while they were trying to evacuate. The husband, wife, their pregnant daughter and their Labrador – everyone in the car – were killed. Their bodies were lying on the roadside for a long time. Later, Maryna would go to the place where her neighbours were killed, see the destroyed car and take a few photos. She would be tortured for these photos on her phone, but that would come later. For that moment, her daily life was a struggle for survival, but at least she was free. She walked the destroyed streets in search of firewood, heated the stove, baked bread and fried pampushky (filled doughnuts). Back then, there was still enough food to feed the cats and dogs abandoned by the townspeople who had fled. Maryna's neighbour, who sold meat, started exchanging his stock, which began to deteriorate without electricity, and gave away lard for free. Maryna would mix the lard with garlic and give it to the elderly. In March, strikes occurred every day. The street where Maryna lived was dotted with craters, and her husband's relatives also moved into the house – so it was ten people under one roof in total. The Illich plant Photo: Tetiana Aster Food and water supplies were running low. Maryna and her daughter went in search of water – when an attack started, they ran to the basement, where they had to stay for 3-4 hours. "The Russians were committing crimes that would take two heavy volumes to describe. It was hell. You don't see this in horror films", she says. Some memories from her search for water still haunt her. In front of her, the Russians shot a civilian man with a dog – just because of his jacket, which resembled the one that the workers at the Illich plant had. "His head was torn into small pieces, and he fell down. My daughter and I ran away, someone was screaming," she recalls. Maryna also saw Russian artillery targeting the humanitarian aid queues, where dozens of civilians were standing. "We were standing in the queue to receive the humanitarian aid: they would give us three carrots, two potatoes, and some dog grains. People would gather, and a shell would fly right at them. Specifically to hit them. One strike – and that's it, 10-15 people are gone. You can't tell where their legs are, where their arms are. The stray dogs were pulling them apart. Sometimes you would see a dog running with someone's hand in its teeth." When the Russians took control of the Illich Steel Plant, they started forcing people to clear the rubble in exchange for food. Maryna's daughter joined in, trying to bring some sense of purpose to the terrifying monotony of their daily life. But while performing those so-called "jobs", she went through the most traumatic experience of her life. "I told her not to go. She said, 'Mum, the other girls are going, so I'll go too.' The Russians chose her and two other girls to 'clean their office'. At first, everything seemed more or less normal. But on the fifth day, one of the Kadyrovites [pro-Russian Chechen fighters], who was in charge, raped her. She came home in a terrible state. I honestly thought I'd never get her back to reality," Maryna recalls. The aftermath was devastating. She started having epileptic seizures, hallucinations and couldn't sleep. And still, the suffering in the city – almost entirely under Russian control – was far from over. The Sea of Azov before the full-scale war Photo: Olena Suhak To move around Mariupol, residents had to pass through a filtration process – a humiliating procedure, from which many never returned. Maryna knew she wouldn't pass, so she bought a fake certificate, supposedly from the occupying forces, but without the Russian "commandant's" signature. It allowed her to move around the city, but not to leave it. As it turned out, Maryna had been on the Russian authorities' radar from the very beginning. Their database had records about her son, a veteran. To make things worse, it was her ex-husband, the father of her daughter, who had reported them to the Russians. When the full-scale invasion began, the man spent three days hiding in a basement. Maryna and her daughter brought him food. Then he disappeared. Later Maryna found out that his "love" for the Russian occupiers had outweighed any paternal feelings. "My ex was always pro-Russian. He'd shout, 'Once our guys show up, you're in trouble. Get out of here!' He brought them a phone with a photo of my daughter and son-in-law in military uniform during the Russians' filtration operations. He told the Russians that we'd been to rallies in Kyiv, that we were pro-Ukrainian, supported the Azov Brigade and backed our forces", Maryna recalls. Soon, the first searches began. Maryna buried all the gifts from Azov fighters, including books, patches and flags, in the garden. The first visit from Russian security agents passed without consequences, but Maryna realised they had to get out. They tried to contact volunteers. But the convoy they hoped would take them to Ukraine ended up going to Russia instead. Maryna and her daughter were arrested at a checkpoint between Ukriane's Novoazovsk and Russia's Taganrog in July 2022. They were immediately taken to separate rooms. Out of 40 people detained, they were the first to be interrogated. "My daughter went in first, then they called me. She was already gone as they had taken her out through a different door. I entered a room that had two huge lamps, a table and a chair. I sat down; the lights were blinding. Two of them were sitting in front of me. One of them came up and kept pressing on a spot on my left shoulder. I struggle to lift my arm even today as it still hurts", she says. They asked Maryna about her son – where he'd been, what he did and what his political views were. She said she didn't know. The Russians dragged her by the hair for that. Then they made her sign a statement promising never to cross into the Russian Federation again and sent her to the room where her daughter had been interrogated. "There was blood everywhere in the corner. There wasn't blood on my daughter, but she was covered in bruises. Her long hair was a mess, like it had been yanked. Her face was dark and she was shaking all over. I knew then that they'd been abusing her." The women were taken to a basement after the interrogation. There they were kept for three days. They were forced to clean rooms after interrogations. They didn't see other people, but there were teeth and hair in the blood-stained cells. A Chechen soldier came over to an exhausted Maryna one evening and asked: "Why are they treating you like this? Do they think you're murderers or something?" Maryna told him their story. Then he asked, "Do you have cancer?" It was clear the Russians had gone through all her belongings, including her medical paper. Apparently, the Chechen soldier felt sorry for the women. They got their things back during his shift. He gave them some kind of documents – passes to get through three checkpoints on the way to Novoazovsk – and told them to run. "He said: 'Go back to Mariupol and try to get out however you can. I can give you 24 hours to run. But you need to get more than five kilometres from here'", remembers Maryna. It was 23:00. There was a storm, pouring rain, lightning – the kind of bleak landscape you'd expect in an apocalyptic film scene. Maryna's leg was injured, but she and her daughter set off. Later, they were picked up by a couple who hadn't managed to leave Mariupol after visiting relatives. Ironically, they were from Moscow. The women spent the night at a hotel in Novoazovsk, then came back to Mariupol and contacted the volunteers again. A car came for them at 06:00. They travelled through the fields to avoid checkpoints. There was only one check at the entrance to Berdiansk. After that, the women spent a week in a hotel waiting for a permit from the Russian occupation commandant. Eventually, the Russians gave the green light. Maryna and her daughter finally got into a car travelling in a convoy through Vasylivka to Zaporizhzhia – towards freedom. "When we saw our Ukrainian flag, we burst into tears. We fell to the ground. We couldn't believe we'd made it out of that hell…" Soon after she returned to the temporarily occupied territory in search of her son. His arrests and imprisonment are a long story of their own. Death and life in occupied Mariupol Photo: Viktoriia Roshchyna for Ukrainska Pravda Maryna's son had served in the Azov Regiment back in 2014, but he was discharged after being injured a few years later. He was being held in a pre-trial detention centre at the beginning of the full-scale invasion. He hadn't been found guilty, but amid the chaos of the Russian advance, the detainees were neither evacuated nor released. The Russians quickly took control of the pre-trial detention centre. Maryna went there with a care package in the spring of 2022, while the battles were still ongoing. She stood outside the prison for three days, begging the warden to let her see her son. Eventually, in May, they let her in. Her son was in poor shape. By then, the prison was already run by the Russian military. But at least she managed to see him. After managing to reach Zaporizhzhia safely, Maryna did something desperate. In November 2022, she returned to Mariupol. It was a mad, reckless move, but she was ready to do anything for her son. Back in the occupied city, Maryna went everywhere she could – to the so-called military prosecutor's office of the Russian occupying regime, to special departments. "You'll end up where he is, dear", one of the Russians told her. They humiliated her, tried to scare her, but she refused to give in. Her son was to be "put on trial". Maryna begged them to let him go, saying he was disabled and had done nothing wrong. But in response, she was told: "That didn't stop him from killing our boys when he served in Azov". Eventually, at the end of November, her son was released for a bribe. The young man spent about seven months recuperating at Maryna's husband's place. Maryna left the occupied territory for the Netherlands – from there, she sent him money through acquaintances so he could leave too. But in June, they came for him again. "The world isn't without 'kind' people. Someone turned him in. One summer morning, he woke up to find four Russian soldiers standing over him. He was arrested. "We didn't know anything for four months", says Maryna. It was a nightmare. And then a phone call: 'He's alive'. I was lucky to have many friends – and that the Russians are greedy for money. We managed to arrange something through intermediaries. They brought him to the house beaten and threw him into the garden." In autumn 2023, the young man was sent to receive treatment in the occupied city of Novoazovsk – they had to change location so that it would be harder for the Russians to find him. In the winter, he tried to leave the occupied territory for Taganrog, Russia. By some miracle, he passed a polygraph test but was denied permission to leave. He went into hiding for another two weeks and then decided "Whatever happens, happens" – and tried again. "There were so many people… A young girl was at the checkpoint. She looked at the passport and said: 'You were there two weeks ago. Here's your passport. Go ahead'. His heart dropped to his feet – he got through customs very quickly." Then came Taganrog, Rostov, Moscow. Constantly looking over his shoulder, her son made it to Belarus and then crossed the border into Volyn Oblast of Ukraine. In Ukrainian-controlled territory, he found a job and began rehabilitation. In January 2024, Maryna was finally able to hug her son. But her daughter persuaded her to move abroad for good and begin the treatment she needed. A Russian flag against the backdrop of scorched buildings, 9 May 2022 Photo: Viktoriia Roshchyna/UP When Maryna visited occupied Mariupol for the second time, it was a different world. Ruins, fear, repression, chaos. Flats were only handed out to Russians and migrants from the Russian Federation, while thousands of Mariupol residents were left without a roof over their heads. At the market, Maryna saw an old man – dirty, hunched, eyes full of tears. He was staring into a paper coffee cup. She offered to buy him a new one. They started talking – it turned out he was from Kurchatov. "Oh, then we're not far from each other", Maryna said. She offered him her late father's old one-room flat: damaged, but with windows and running water. The man was overjoyed. There were queues and commotion in the streets. Locals were preoccupied with getting passes, documents, trying to receive pensions. But there were also those who welcomed the "Russian world". "Once I sat down at a bus stop – two men came over. One said: 'Thank God Russia has come. Finally. They'll make Mariupol a gem!'" "I wanted to reply: 'Wasn't Mariupol already a gem when we lived here?' – but I kept silent. You couldn't speak freely in the city anymore." One of the greatest misfortunes under occupation is losing faith in people who once seemed decent. At the boarding school where Maryna used to work, it turned out that many were collaborators. "Our children and teachers were once 'Cossacks' and 'Berehynias' [female guardian figures in Ukrainian tradition, symbolising protection and motherhood], and now the main Berehynia supports a 'good Russia'. I see her standing in the town centre, laying flowers for some Russian 'veterans of the Afghan war'' and giving speeches about how wonderful Russia is." A local councillor who had performed at their boarding school during celebrations for years took part in the Russian "Victory Parade" on 9 May 2022. He shook hands with Pushilin [the Russian-backed leader of the occupied Donetsk oblast] and proudly showed off a vodka bottle marked with the letter Z. And the neighbours who had returned to Mariupol from the Russian city of Krasnodar even threatened Maryna – despite the fact that she had brought food to their elderly parents while they were hiding in the basement under shelling. "The neighbours' children said: 'Either you shut your mouth, or we'll turn you in – and no one will ever find your guts'". Maryna still keeps in touch with some relatives who stayed in Mariupol. But not all are glad to hear from her. Those who once took pride in her veteran son, under the influence of Russian propaganda, now believe he is a "Nazi". "My relatives have basically disowned me. They said: 'People like you should be slaughtered – and your children, the moment they're born. All of you, especially Azov fighters'. They believe Azov fighters destroyed Mariupol. I say: 'I was in Mariupol too, I saw who was shooting, who was using civilians as cover. You saw it yourselves.' But in response, I only hear the propaganda they show on television." Maryna is now in Europe, with asylum seeker status, living with an elderly couple who fled from Zaporizhzhia. Fellow Ukrainians support Maryna, but she still cannot return to a normal life. Moreover, an injury she sustained during a shelling has left a lasting impact on her health – on 26 March, a blast wave threw her into the space between a door and a wall, crushing her body badly. "I wouldn't say it's bad here, but it's not home. I'm receiving help, I have treatment, and my tumour isn't growing. Doctors are monitoring me, but psychologically I'm not in a good place. "Panic attacks, fear, high blood pressure. Sometimes I walk normally, and five minutes later – a seizure, and that's it. Twice they've had to call an ambulance – my blood pressure spikes suddenly." Even in safety, she doesn't feel at peace. The foreigners around her don't understand what she has lost. Maryna's home district before the full-scale war Photo: Tetiana Aster Her home on the left bank has been dismantled down to the foundations. Another family home in the Illich district was completely destroyed. After an airstrike, all that remained of the 130-square-metre house were four small pillars. But what pains Maryna the most is the loss of her parents – or more precisely, the inability to even visit their graves. A year before the full-scale war, her mother died and about a year after the fighting began – her father. "My father survived the shelling, but then he had a stroke. I couldn't return by that point. A friend I sent money to withdrew it in cash and buried him. And I can't even visit his grave… "I still can't recover after the death of my neighbours. The woman had worked in emergency services all her life. Her husband was a locksmith. Their daughter had just done IVF, was four months pregnant. And their dog – a labrador... Did they ever think that on 8 March they were heading towards death? "The screams of people jumping from balconies. Burnt, gunned down... Did they think it was the last second of their lives? Sometimes I lie down and wonder – why did this happen to us? Some senile old man wanted land and killed so many people. For what?" Maryna asks. But those questions will forever remain unanswered. Mariupol was her universe. And although she had travelled across nearly all of Ukraine, she always returned to where her home and flower-filled yard were. But now there is nowhere to return. Entry permits from two factories. A passport stating place of birth – "Mariupol". Registration. Keys. That is all Maryna has left. She now keeps them as her most precious memory. Author: Olena BarsukovaTranslation: Myroslava Zavadska, Tetiana Buchkovska and Anastasiia YankinaEditing: Shoël Stadlen
