We had another spoilt morning on Monday – another massive attack with air sirens. My 11-year-old son was woken by them about 7.30am. We waited until after 10am for the air alert to end. We didn’t have electricity [almost] all day.
My son was scared because of the explosions, saying maybe he shouldn’t go to school. Even when the refrigerator makes [noise] my son reacts because he remembers the missiles and planes. He doesn’t want to be in his room alone after he hears an explosion.
Two weeks ago, my son and I packed his nuclear attack backpack, after our school asked us to prepare one. It contains underwear, one set of clothes, a small toy, a power bank, water and snacks. We went to the store and he picked them himself: candy, biscuits, nuts, dried sausages. He is very serious about not eating from his emergency backpack, saying it should be kept untouched. I said the school has prepared , but he said he must get ready and have more water in case.
I signed an agreement for him to be given potassium iodide if an explosion happens while he’s at school. The kids would have to stay there in a shelter until the government says it’s safe to get your kid back home. It’s very logical, but it [would be] dreadfully scary to stay home, taping all the windows and ventilation, knowing your kid is at school and will need to shelter there for some time.
We’re lucky to have our school in Irpin – one was burned down and several partly destroyed. Most schools are online because they don’t have enough shelters, and there are problems with electricity and heating. It’s really hard for the kids [at home] when there is no internet. Some parents have to go to work and leave their children at home with no mobile connection.
Our school recently bought a big generator – not all schools have this opportunity. In the classrooms the windows are packed with sand sacks, so there’s not enough light if the electricity is off.
Kids say they’re sick of hearing about the war. They can’t reflect on their experiences as much as adults – they don’t know what to do with the situation. They want to play video games, something to focus your attention and not think.
My son was very upset on Tuesday when he came back from school around 5pm and saw that it was dark. He started crying, partly because he was hungry. He was concerned [about] how to do his homework, so I first fed him to make him feel little a less miserable then he started to memorise the poem which was assigned. He went to bed before the electricity was on.
I’m a translator and I need to work online – only I’m working right now. My husband is a lawyer and he hardly has any work [at the moment]. I really need to keep this job and that’s difficult when I don’t have power for most of the day.
When we don’t have power, we don’t have heating. It’s quite warm right now – more than 10 degrees [but] it could be below zero. Our government expects we will continue to have massive attacks. If you want to buy something like a power bank it’s really hard because everything is sold out. We have a solar panel and power accumulator that can power something small, like a laptop.
We left Irpin at the beginning of the war. We had romantic ideas of war – we thought we would have enough supplies and be able to help others [but] it was very hard from the start. The explosions were very loud; planes were flying so low we could see the pilot’s face. We left without packing, just taking whatever we could. Me and my son stayed in Sweden for almost five months; my husband came back to help with humanitarian aid. Only two of our neighbours remained.
My son was really longing to come back to his father and friends – we came back in mid-July as soon as we had power. For young kids it’s easier to gain another language but he couldn’t – it was really hard to go to school there. He felt very depressed.
Irpin is now [mostly] damaged buildings. I thought it would be very hard to see this, but because we mentally have to adapt and survive, [it’s like] we can’t perceive it as a reality.
My son’s life is like usual – we’re trying hard to make our kids continue all their classes, like sport and music. I try to concentrate on my tasks and not think about the future. [But] when I’m reading my book and I think of bombs flying somewhere, it’s really very surreal. I go to a dance studio and there are all these women dancing, saying we still have to move and keep fit. It’s really impressive.
Between all our strong waves of war feelings we still have to live [our] peace lives, which are simple and very similar to yours: work, shop, cook, hug, kiss, teach our kids.
