Maria is carrying a paltry bag in which she has stuffed a few clothes. It was with this only baggage that she left her accommodation in Irpin, in the greater suburbs of Kiev: “That night the noise was deafening. There were huge explosions and I thought that was the end. Luckily, thank God, we got out. It’s gonna be okay now, it’s gonna be okay… ”
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In Ukraine, the Russian army continues its strategy of encirclement of Kiev. It concentrates its strikes on the north and west of the capital. The town of Irpin has thus been the subject of intensive bombardments for the past 8 days. Hundreds of civilians flee the Russian strikes, crossing a bridge, destroyed by the Ukrainians in order to prevent the Russians from gaining access to Kiev. To reach the city, it is therefore necessary to take a path of sheet metal and wooden planks thrown between the banks of a stream. It was not far from this area that the American journalist Brent Renaud lost his life: while he was driving in the car with a colleague and a Ukrainian civilian, he was hit by a shot.
On the other side, volunteers help the civilians. They requisitioned the few vehicles that are still running. “Evacuations are underway, but the Russians don’t care, denounces Sergei, one of these volunteers. Moreover, yesterday, volunteers evacuated civilians and were shot at. Fortunately, no one died, but some were injured and hospitalized.“
“Every night the Russians attack”
The main avenue crosses a ghost town: carcasses of cars in front of partly destroyed buildings, some gutted… The vehicle stops at the foot of a bar of gray buildings held by Ukrainian soldiers. At their head, Sergeant Katchenko. “Irpin has been shelled for seven days now. Every night, the Russians attack with all kinds of weapons: missiles, mortars, guns… Gentlemen, we have to go to the shelters. It’s very tense.” the officer pauses, hearing the crash of nearby Russian artillery.
Direction the shelter in the basement of the building: at the foot of the stairs, a corridor leads to a large cellar. About thirty mattresses are on the ground, one against the other, bunk beds, provisions. In a musty smell, civilians now live here to protect themselves from Russian strikes. Among them, many old people. Ludmila, 80, does not take off her thick beige coat: “I stay here, I have nowhere to go and I cannot evacuate. Even carrying a bag is difficult at my age. We have nothing here. In the evening, people cook in the yard on the fire and I join them to have something in the stomach. We need help from all over the world. We don’t deserve this!”
It’s time to leave. On the way back, a unit of Ukrainian soldiers, armed with rocket launchers, go up the main avenue: they take the path of the fighting a few hundred meters away.