“Everything changed”: three Ukrainians recount their year at war

The Russian invasion of Ukraine, which began on February 24, 2022, upended the lives of millions of people. Three Ukrainians remember how they lived the beginning of the war and what has changed for them since then.

Serguii Osachuk, from governor to soldier

The night of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, Sergei Osachuk, then governor of the Chernivtsi (western) region, spent a restless sleep: the day before he had received a report that an offensive from Moscow was imminent.

“I was woken up by explosions and messages on my phone stating that Russia’s massive invasion of Ukraine had begun,” Explain.

A year later, his life has changed radically: Osachuk, 50, put his suit in the closet to wear a military uniform.

Having become a lieutenant colonel in the border guards, he is now at the heart of the fighting in eastern Ukraine, the epicenter of the war.

“I am happier here than if I had stayed as governor” in the west of the country, which has been further removed from the violence, he says. “It is a huge responsibility”.

Osachuk is in charge of coordinating the actions of his unit with those of other sections of the army. The former governor was a reservist when the war broke out but he was unable to join the troops immediately.

“During the first six months of the year (2022), I organized the mobilization (…) in Chernivtsi. Every day he encouraged people to join the armed forces“, Explain.

“When my term ended on July 14, I joined immediately” the army, he adds.

With the automatic rifle wedged between his legs as his vehicle speeds towards Bakhmut, the scene of violent fighting, Osachuk says he will stay in uniform for as long as it takes.

“It is here that the future of Ukraine and the free nations of the world is decided”it states.

Katerina Musienko and the dead language

Before the war, Katerina Musienko, from the cosmopolitan port city of Odessa (south), spoke only Russian and even despised those who preferred Ukrainian or Russian. “surzhyk”a mixture of both languages.

But “everything changed” for this 24-year-old when the conflict broke out.

Although the explosions were already rocking kyiv, she believed that the reports of attacks in Odessa were “fake news”.

It wasn’t until President Volodimir Zelensky went on television to declare martial law that he understood that “All of that was serious.”

Then, in March, his grandfather was killed in a new Russian attack on Odessa.

“I was so overwhelmed, I didn’t feel sadness (…), just disgust and hatred for everything that was linked to Russia,” trust.

“Just as I was a radical Russophone, I became a radical defender of the Ukrainian language. Without concessions, irrevocably”insists.

Her parents and her boyfriend followed her in this language transition.

He went one step further by posting a message on social networks calling for the dismantling of the statues in tribute to Aleksander Pushkin, an emblem of Russian literature.

After this post went viral, Musienko launched an NGO to protect the Ukrainian.

Languages “they develop only while they are present in everyday life”, says. “If our children don’t speak Ukrainian, the language will die.”

Andrii Yeriomenko, “Hero of the Railway”

The war left its mark on Andrii Yeriomenko: “My beard is grayer”complains this paunchy train conductor, sitting in one of the carriages dressed in his blue uniform.

Descendant of a long line of Ukrainian train drivers, Yeriomenko remembers the first days of the invasion, when his team of about twenty people evacuated thousands of inhabitants of kyiv.

Crammed in on the station platforms, “people were afraid, they were shocked: children, dogs, cats, adults, the elderly”Explain.

“We rescued everyone we could. There could be ten, twelve people in compartments designed for four”remember.

With the train full, they began a journey of several hours across the country, sometimes with the lights off so as not to be spotted and attacked by the Russians.

The worst were “children and frightened animals”says Yeriomenko, who has worked in the railways for 34 years.

“Once, something clicked in a carriage and a girl of five or six years old threw herself to the ground, with her hands over her head, screaming ‘bombardment’”account.

Highly criticized before the war, the Ukrzaliznytsia railway manager continued to operate under bombs and allowed millions of people to evacuate.

Now, many compatriots consider train drivers the “Heroes of the Railroad”

But Yeriomenko, with two children at the front, rejects this description.

“We’ve just done our job”says. “None of us have ever set a tank on fire, shot down a plane or killed a Russian.”

Source: AFP