The story behind a photo seen ’round the world
Hanna Kurtsanovska is a Ukrainian journalist who writes for ABO Local Media Development Agency, a collaboration between 45 newspapers and 300 journalists spread across Ukraine. They are linked by a common website — Svoi.global — and now the Boston Herald.
A week before Russia invaded Ukraine, a photo of 79-year-old Valentyna Konstantynovska from Mariupol participating in civilian combat training went worldwide.
She managed to leave her home on the last train out of Mariupol. At first, she lived in Lviv, then Poland, and has now joined her youngest daughter in Spain. This is her story:
My life in Mariupol was very vibrant. I attended Ukrainian language courses, hang out with my friends; we cooked national food together, sang songs, and volunteered. In summer, we would go to Khortytsia Island, take dips in Dnipro, attend the Dyke Pole festival, and climb the Oba-Tash Mountain in the Zaporizhzhia region. We had so many plans for this summer!
I’ve lived in Mariupol since 1964. I’ve mostly worked at the Azov Shipping Company in the Economic Education Department. But I took breaks to look after my kids. I’ve raised two kids, two daughters. I helped them raise my grandkids because both my daughters were working.
I’ve spoken Russian my entire life. Only as an adult, when my younger brother got married, his wife and I decided to speak Ukrainian at home. We spoke to the best of our abilities. One thing about me is that I’m a bit of an overachiever. So I bought lots of books in Ukrainian and started reading them out loud.
When in 2014 the Russians became an open enemy to Ukrainians, I returned to my method of learning. I had a schedule: I woke up, did some exercises (without fail), had breakfast, and then started reading. I got three volumes of Ukrainian dissident Levko Lukyanenko. I read his works out loud, articulating every word.
I learned how to load a magazine, assemble and disassemble the Kalashnikov. I have finger arthritis, but I still wanted to do it. The pictures from the training are the few ones I have left of the peaceful life in Mariupol. I didn’t get a chance to take anything else from that life with me. I don’t see anything heroic in this. I just wanted to learn how to shoot.
After the full-scale invasion, we continued working at the volunteer headquarters. My hatred for invaders was so great that I didn’t feel fear. if I didn’t kill at least one of them, I’d bite them.
My kids, knowing my intentions, decided to get me out of, as it now turned out, hell. I boarded the train. Only when my backpack and I were inside did I find out that that was the last train from Mariupol. I had left my boiler turned on at home because I thought that I wouldn’t be gone long. I realized that I wouldn’t return for a long time — or at all.
She managed to leave her home on the last train out of Mariupol. At first, she lived in Lviv, then Poland, and has now joined her youngest daughter in Spain.