It has been a year, a year of bombs and voices. These people speak through translators, these people speak their lives translated through war. This is the collective landscape, wrapped in the mist and myth of the moment, told in the fractured piecemeal that is war.
The living
..…There was just a cherry tree and a fence. Now the fence is destroyed and there is no cherry tree.
..…We just want a peaceful sky over our heads, instead of hiding as rats in holes.
..…Show this to Putin, the eyes of this child and crying doctors.
..…There is nothing good there, just blood, ruins, and all the worst that war can bring with it.
..…I heard a lot of bangs and the sounds of war.
..…I woke up in bed, and I was all covered in dust. I went to the bathroom, where more rubble and dust fell on me. Finally, when I saw lights, I started screaming: “I am alive. Please get me out.”
..…Damages of buildings, damages of schools, damages of kindergartens, damages of libraries, stadiums.
..…Every day, we find some surprises in our forests, in our — in different places.
..…Sometimes, in normal life, you don’t notice when a day or a week passes. But when we were down there, every hour seemed like a whole day.
..…We would put a pot a fire outdoors, add some water, start cooking. When they would start bombing, we would run back into our basement, then come back to see if it’s ready.
..…The most upsetting thing was watching how the Russians bring you water, as if they’re helping you, in your own children’s shoes.
..…We had a headless man lying at the entrance to our neighborhood. No one cleared it out for a week.
..…The whole city was covered with corpses.
..…There are cities that don’t exist, in the practical sense of the word.
..…The roof has been broken. The fence is gone. The car is gone.
The separations
..…His father came and asked for his son was. He went to his mother’s to bring some food and disappeared.
..…It’s just that I cannot tell my mother that I am alive. There is no connection, just nothing. It is cruel. My child is hungry. I don’t know what to give him to eat.
..…My husband didn’t make it to receive humanitarian aid. He had diabetes. The scarce diet of the last days led him to coma, and he died.
..…He got this apartment. He was happy because he wanted to leave something for our children. He died and left nothing for his children.
..…This is our cemetery. I wish he could be just alive. It doesn’t matter that the flat is ruined. We can rebuild it. But I wish my grandson was alive.
..…I don’t want his grave to be disturbed. All of these graves have fences. It’s a tradition. And there will also be a table and bench so we can commemorate the dead. Sit down, talk to them, maybe plant some flowers. Say our goodbyes.
..…They have done here murders. They have done their tortures.
..…My little chair. I wrote the last names of some of the people who were here down.
..…I want to return to my father.
The questions
..…I have only one question: why?
..…Who asked the Russians to come here? What have they come to free us from, our families, our homes, from our lives?
..…How many young beautiful boys are now laying in the ground?
..…A lot of mothers call, and they are just saying: Hello, I have a baby on my arms. He is dying without food. What should I do?
..…I could not believe it when we were under the rubble. After all, one wants to live. So we dug ourselves out with these hands. What else was there to do?
..…I’m alone at work. Where will I run? Where do I go? Tell me please. My God.
..…I feel empty. How are we going to keep on living?
..…What can you say? We are just surviving.
..…It’s better to be here than on the street. Even though it’s cold both here and outside, that’s how we live. Where else should we go? We have nowhere to go.
..…What else should I do now? Just lay down and wait? We already have somebody laying there waiting to be collected.
..…This is just a nightmare. A girl died on my floor. What can I say?
..…The blood was running all over my face. I tried to cover it with my hand, but he saw the blood. My son was very frightened. He was asking: “Mommy, are you alive?”
..…I don’t know where to run to. Who will bring back our children? Who?
..…He asked me: “Grandma, will I live?” I said that he would live. But I betrayed him. He was only 14 years old. I will never forgive myself for it.
..…The dog saved you? / Yes, it didn’t let us sleep the whole night.
The executions
..…When you see the dead, you start recognizing your identity in a different way.
..…I was told he was shot in the head. But, in the photos, he is face down. You cant see anything on the back of his head. That means they were looking in his eyes when they shot him.
..…He was taken into the cell. He was there for a split-second, and he said the body was still warm.
..…They were cut. Bohdan was stabbed in the heart and his ribs were broken. My husband’s throat was slit. I would give anything for them to be alive.
..…These are all killed and tortured people shot at close range with their arms and legs tied. Some were blindfolded.
..…This is my friend’s grave. He was killed. Soldiers walked behind him. And immediately after he said it about the killing, we heard the click and Leonya yes is on the ground. Leonya is gone.
..…The woman was lying there without her head. Look at what has happened. Her head was blown off and all her bones blown apart there in the basement too.
..…They killed an old lady in the school. We carried a body with a head wound out of a nine-story building. We found civilians in a garden over there, all of them straight to the head.
..…I said: “We’re going to the hospital with my injured son.” / They said: “Ride, but we will shoot you in the back. You can go, but we will kill you.”
..…For two or three hours, I was just extending with the hands back. And they were deciding what to do with me. OK, let’s shoot him. The gun was just like looking into my chest, you know? And I was standing there and thinking, OK, it would be better if he would shoot just me in the heart, not in the kind of other parts, just not to suffer. I was really dreaming about my son.
..…A 12-year-old child, and her head’s come off.
The fight
..…Russians, please come here if you dare. We will well send you back in plastic bags.
..…Fight, my brothers, and we will win. This is my land. And whoever comes here will go to hell.
..…Even women and children are trying to stop tanks with their bare hands.
..…We are ready to fight until the end, until the victorious end, to defeat these Russian cockroaches.
..…Like, they were thinking they’re just like on a business trip to Ukraine. Those woods in front of us, they’re shooting at us from there.
..…God says you should love your enemy. It is impossible. I only have hate.
..…It’s a tragedy. It’s a tragedy. I can’t wrap my mind around it. It’s Satan’s work.
..…We will kill all the (EXPLETIVE DELETED) for Mariupol. We will multiply them by zero.
..…I’m growing a flower. I am a flower maker. But, today I’m a warrior and defend my country from Russian enemies. My mother, surely, she prefers that I am a flower maker.
..…Woman: There is an armored vehicle. / Man: Keep quiet.
The home
..…It’s very strange how the Russians try to protect Russians in Ukraine with shelling, bombs, and so on. Better to do this in their homeland, in Russia.
..…We did not ask anyone to come here, did not invite anyone to come with weapons and occupy us. We did not ask anyone to liberate us, help us or save us from anyone. So we will be defending our city.
..…It’s our land. It’s our villages. It’s our people. We can’t leave it just to the enemy.
..…Dear God, our town used to be so beautiful. There were roses everywhere, flowers. It was clean. Everything was kept in order.
..…My mother lives here, used to live here. My aunt lived here. My mother-in-law lived here. I had the happiest days of my life here. This is my home. Despite all the destruction, I want to be home. My soul is longing for this, because it is mine. However it looks right now, it’s mine.
..…I have lived here since my birth, my husband as well. We got married here and had babies.
..…Ukraine native land. Field, river, forest. You and I belong here.
The morrow
..…Some are buying tangerines, cucumbers and tomatoes.
..…I was raised in a freedom — in a free country. And I think freedom is very important. If one person starts doing something extraordinary and something, that can actually help, if many people do it. The society is power. And if we deliver a message to society, it will respond.
..…I believe. And, today, a lot of people from world believe to Ukraine.
..…Hope dies last.
..…Somebody has to stop the war.
The Voices
Alexandra, Andrei Marusov, Andrei, Artem Semenikhin, Arthur, Capt. Yan Fidrya, Clahus, “Devil”, Dmitri, Dmytro Ivanov, Elena, Gennadiy Trukhanov, Halyna, Iryna Kolisnyk, Iryna Venediktova, Issa, Issac, Larisa Skylarova, Liudmyla Shyshkina, Luba Kryuchko, Markiyan Paranyak, Mila, Nikita Rozhenko, Olenskii Milhulin, Olesea Buzu, Olga Hudin, Olha, Rev. Anatol Szydlowski, Serhii Lahovskyi, Svetlana Shelikhan, Tetyana Deruhya, Valentina Popovichuk, Valentina, Valentyna Shylo, Victor Jukov, Viktor, Viktoria Shekhovtsova, Viktoria Vovk, Vitaliy Chaika, Volodymyr Masliychuk, Volodymyr Stefiyenko, Yulia Truba, …and man and woman.
And if you think these voices seem disembodied, they are. For this is the nature of war, ripping everything out of the body.