War in Ukraine | Life near the front continues underground

(Kryvyï Rig) In Kryvyï Rig in the south of Ukraine, the front is very close, but the children can still take part in a martial arts competition, in an anti-nuclear shelter.

Girls and boys parade in white outfits for the finals of the annual municipal competition, in this bunker built at great expense in the 1960s to ward off any possible nuclear attack during the Cold War.

They then face each other on square carpets, under the watchful eye of their exhausted-looking parents, collapsed on benches or leaning against the walls.

An enthusiastic commentator details each fight. The loudspeaker echoes resonate well above ground level.

“Psychologically, it’s important for children to see that adults have not forgotten them,” observes Anatoli Voloshin, the national coach. He shouts to drown out the surrounding noise.

“They haven’t been to school for months. They need to feel like they matter again,” he adds.

Anatoli Volochine officiates as master of ceremonies in the absence of the deputy mayor, Serguiï Milioutine, stuck in his office to monitor the power cuts affecting his city.

” Cold blood ”

After eight months of war, the deputy mayor, a robust and cheerful 45-year-old man and an engineer by training, has gotten used to being constantly on his phone. The latest news from the front adds to his usual good humor.

The Russian forces were pushed back about an hour’s drive from the suburbs of Kryvyi Rig, an industrial and Russian-speaking city where President Volodymyr Zelensky and his wife are from.

The Ukrainian counter-offensive forced the Russian occupation authorities to begin the evacuation of Kherson, the neighboring regional capital taken in early March.

But as the harsh winter months approached, Russian forces struck the country’s power grid.

The deputy mayor wants to be a philosopher as he chews his sandwich while searching on his phone which districts of his city need emergency help.

“Of course, I’m physically tired,” he concedes. “But I’ve reached the point where I survive just by going on my way. You have to keep your cool and save your energy. No one knows how long this will last.”

Kryvyi Rig, like other industrial cities in Ukraine, tries to find a kind of balance between despair and joy.

The approach of each missile or – more and more often – a suicide drone is heralded by the heartrending wail of sirens. Day and night.

The announcement of each missile shot down is celebrated on social media in this country which seems to have transferred a good part of its daily life online.

Certain neighborhoods in the main towns are completely ruined or totally deprived of lighting and electricity.

Others, on the other hand, are filled with people doing their shopping or smiling couples with pushchairs or walking their dogs without the least concern in the world for aerial alerts.

“Don’t Let Go”

The deputy mayor doesn’t really know how to get his constituents to take the sirens as seriously as they did in the early days of the war.

“We spend our time reminding people, ‘please, please don’t slack off,’ he insists, his voice suddenly deep.

Schools and cinemas are closed in Ukraine due to bombing threats.

To restore a semblance of normality to the life of the inhabitants, Kryvyi Rig has transformed its anti-nuclear shelter, like other similar underground constructions, into a hall for shows and sports meetings.

It hosts pop music concerts as well as performances by the crew of Kvartal 95, the production company of which Mr Zelensky was co-owner and the key star until his election as head of state in April 2019.

Hundreds of people flock there on weekends, despite the war raging on their doorstep.

It took a few months, Mr. Milioutin explains, for everyone to realize that it was possible to return to a semblance of normal life thanks to these forgotten bunkers that have dotted the country since Soviet times.

“Everyone is very happy down there,” assures coach Anatoly Voloshin. “It’s as if there was no war.”