Children in the evacuation train at the train station. Photo UNIAN
Russia’s war against Ukraine is not about territory, encroachment on fertile black soil or so-called denazification. It is a war for human souls, above all. And it began much earlier, before February 24, 2022, when Ukrainians and Russians were “brotherly peoples”.
For how else can one explain the terrible metamorphosis in the heads of seemingly ordinary people, who with one hand write pity texts in messenger (“We are so worried about you, how are you doing over there?”) and with the other hand post pictures about “stupid Banderaites”, “the mission to save Ukraine” and “the war on terror”, “mission to save Ukraine” and justify their bloodthirsty President?!
“Oh, what’s the big deal, two missiles fired from Belarus at Ukraine! It’s your propaganda! Your own people are shelling you!” says my sister, who lives in Belarus.
I advise her to come and see with her own eyes what is happening. And take her two sons, who were born half-Armenian in Baku in 1990, when Azerbaijan’s capital city was a living hell.
“You are not being told the whole truth! Watch the Rossiya24 channel,” advises a relative from St. Petersburg, while a second relative, who is already former (thank God!), actively posts Facebook narratives about “Nazis”, persistently attacking my messenger.
I run out of words, and my mind mobilizes all knowledge of profanity to respond, prove, and shout out.
People, what is wrong with you! Where have you seen at least one Nazi when you came to Kremenchuk, Kyiv, Kropivnitsky, Dnipropetrovsk or Odesa? How did you feel when you chewed our Bandera bacon? Why didn’t you feel clogs in your throats when you cooked the vareniki made by Ukrainian women? Why didn’t you feel sick to your stomach from borscht with pampushki?
From whom do you want to free us – from our President, whom the Ukrainians themselves elected in the elections? From the Ukrainian language, from a song or a vyshyvanka, in the end, from our right to live?
But they do not hear me. Their minds are poisoned by Russian propaganda, which from kindergarten onwards indoctrinates superiority and intolerance towards those who do not want such “brotherhood”.
I can’t hold a gun in my hand, and I can’t shoot the enemy. My eyesight is not good, and I wear glasses, so I am not a marksman now. But I can do what I’m good at – I can write. And I will write about the ruthless war that Russia is waging against my Ukrainian people.
I have written and will continue to write true stories about people defending their right to live in their native land. I will write about the millions of women and children who are refugees. About volunteers who help my compatriots in Ukraine and Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Lithuania, Germany, and other European countries. About kind and merciful people who accept exiles and who unite.
I want as many people around the world as possible to read these stories. I hope without hope that they will be able to reach the hearts of Russians who support the fratricidal war against my country.
Слава Україні!
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