Most of the inhabitants of Irpin, once a well-to-do suburb of Kiev, have fled the bombardments of the Russian army. But a few diehards still refuse to leave town.
In this locality located northwest of the Ukrainian capital, the streets are strewn with rubble. Grad missiles ripped through high-rise residential buildings, such as modest brick and wood pavilions.
The deserted streets are sometimes so silent that the sound of a woodpecker hammering the trunk of a tree drowns out the sound of distant guns.
But other times you hear the roar of missiles and the volleys of mortar shells fired not far away.
It’s more than 69-year-old Mykola Poustovite can handle. As he took the road to Kiev with his wife to find relative safety there, he burst into tears.
The couple hoped the front line would move away from Irpin. “But now, after such shelling, it’s unbearable,” he said.
In reality, the front line has not moved for days. According to estimates by Ukrainian soldiers posted on checkpoints, about 20% to 30% of the city is in Russian hands.
The next town, Boutcha, a few hundred meters further north, is already occupied by the Russian army, and violence is never far away.
While journalists from Agence France-Presse (AFP) crossed a makeshift wooden bridge on Sunday to enter Irpin, Ukrainian soldiers crossed it carrying the bodies of three of their comrades.
A little later in the day, a car carrying American journalists was the target of shots near a Ukrainian roadblock, shots that killed independent director Brent Renaud and injured photographer Juan Arredondo (see other text in page A3).
After this tragedy, the mayor of Irpin, Oleksandr Markouchine, banned journalists from staying in the city.
But first, AFP was able to meet a few civilians who were determined to stay.
Among them, Iryna Morozova is obviously frightened: she raises her arms above her head in a sign of surrender when AFP journalists approach her, as if she were threatened by a weapon.
Stray animals
His house suffered serious damage. Next to it, another was almost completely destroyed by a missile. But this 54-year-old woman can’t leave: who would feed her dogs?
She has the keys to a nearby house where there are three excited puppies, a placid golden retriever and a nervous German shepherd.
“This one bites, we locked him in a cage. When we found him, he was scared and shaking,” she says.
The others can run around the garden and play happily with the visitors. “They sleep here, in the kitchen. They play during the day. How could I leave them there? she asks.
To leave ? Where would I go? In Kyiv? I’m not going anywhere. Come what may. I am too old.
The few remaining neighbors watch over each other and bring food to the elderly, but Iryna Morozova worries about pets.
“There’s nothing left here,” she laments as she passes a destroyed house. “Now we collect stray animals and feed them, because people have left and abandoned them. »
Another neighbour, 76, Vera Tyskanova, had retired to the once pleasant town after a career as a train conductor in the Tajik capital, Dushanbe.
She has had no electricity since an airstrike at the end of February and also consoles herself by feeding stray animals. “There is water, but no electricity. There’s a chimney in the part of the house that wasn’t destroyed… I’m surviving,” she laughs.
Around the corner, Mykola Karpovytch, 84, is lost. “Where would I go? My legs and arms hurt,” said the former tractor driver, who worked near the border with Belarus. ” To leave ? Where would I go? In Kyiv? I’m not going anywhere. Come what may. I am too old. »