HERSTORY OF WAR
Ukr. woman’s tale of year in hell
Oksana Kovtun is an associate professor of translation at the Vasyl’ Stus Donetsk National University, living in Vinnytsia in west-central Ukraine with her husband and two children. After Russia invaded Ukraine on Feb. 24, 2022, Kovtun, 39, began working as a volunteer procuring supplies for Ukrainian refugees as well as the military. She tells The Post’s Matthew Sedacca of her family’s and nation’s struggle during a year of war.
IEverything clearly remember the beginning of the war. Cash machines don’t work.
closes very early. No food in the shops because people bought everything. Just empty streets, darkness, coldness, wind.
I’m a teacher at the university, and even on the 24th [of February 2022] were still conducting the lessons. Because we had COVID and online lectures, we kept on teaching.
A lot of people started running away from the cities. We decided to stay at home.
As many buildings were bombarded, and people killed . . . we decided to use this “rule of two walls” — occupying a space in a building where two walls will separate you from an explosion outside.
We relocated into our bathroom. I could sleep on the carpet with my little one, he’s 6, and my older one — he’s 14 — had to sleep in the bath.
My husband still had to sleep in the bedroom because there was no place for him. I was really scared. I even had a panic attack.
Maybe two weeks from the beginning of the war, the refugees from other regions started coming here. One of my friends at the university told me, “Children who are refugees asked for help. Can we organize something for them?” We bought diapers, children’s food. I wrote on Facebook to my friends. One of my neighbors is a fruit seller so he helped.
Then it started like a snow fall. I didn’t have enough money and people were coming and coming, hundreds and thousands of them, so I started connecting with different organizations.
Then I realized I don’t have any panic attacks anymore because I have something that I’m concentrating on. We got used to the war, to bombarding, to the missiles, to everything. It’s not normal, but if we were take it very close to our heart, I suppose we would get crazy.
I remember the van came with some humanitarian aid, and we were offloading it. And there was this missile alert, and very, very loud, booming. We heard it, just picked up our head, it’s not here, and we went on working.
In my city, there is a very big hospital [where] the soldiers are treated, cured, so our doctors are performing very complicated surgeries. Now I can see a lot of wounded soldiers on the streets without legs, without arms. I also know that guys are staying there, absolutely disabled, and it’s just very terrifying.
That’s what makes me feel very depressed and despaired.
I work very closely with the army. This week, I sent a very big parcel with different stuff to one of the guys in Donetsk region. And this morning, I was informed that some of these guys were killed.
When dead soldiers are brought here in our city, people who don’t know the soldier . . . come with flowers and they create corridors all the way through the city, to the cemetery. And they stay on their knees, they pray.
We are waiting for the 24th because it will be a year-anniversary of the war. There are a lot of rumors that Russians are preparing a very big attack on our country. But I can’t say that I’m so scared as I was previously. I absolutely believe in our victory. I’m full of hope.