Winter is halfway through in eastern Ukraine. Today in Kharkiv there was heavy snow and whilst temperatures are set to rise above freezing over the next few days, there is a long way to go before we see spring here. This week we have visited all the villages in the Kharkiv region where we have installed windows and doors since November to check on the work we have done and to meet the people that your donations have helped. Over the last three months, we have worked in eight villages in the Kharkiv region, and have brought our total number of homes repaired up to over 700, with 45 in January of this year alone. None of this is possible without your help: thank you.
In a lot of ways, the mood is depressed. The war drags on, almost into its third year, and people are exhausted. They have lost so much in these areas; homes destroyed, family members killed at the front, futures ripped apart. There is no forgetting the war here; even if you close your eyes to the destruction around you and turn on the radio, being in an area relatively close to the front means shows are interrupted by messages sent out in the hope that they reach the radios of the Russian soldiers who continue to shell the border constantly, urging them to surrender. Nonetheless, the residents of these areas remain determined and rebuilding efforts continue.
One of the villages we visited this week was Velyki Prokhody. There we met Nina Viktorivna. Nina fled the village when it was occupied on the first days of the war with her husband. Russian soldiers then moved into her house, along with those of her neighbours. This then led to it being hit by the Ukrainian side. It was totally destroyed. After liberation, Nina and her husband moved back to Velyki Prokhody and, unable to live in their house, moved into the outhouse where previously their dogs had lived. Even this had its windows and roof blown out by the shockwaves of the hit which destroyed the house, as well as damage to the walls which they patched up with plywood sheets. We have replaced all the windows in the building, making it somewhat more bearable as a living space, however it remains freezing cold. With no gas available, we are hoping to buy a wood-powered boiler for Nina and her husband. A good quality model will cost around £1000 with installation and will last them for years. I asked Nina if she had a car and would be able to collect the boiler herself if I ordered it for her to the nearest post office, or if she needed delivery to be arranged. ‘I have a car,’ she replied, ‘it’s the only thing that didn’t burn’.
A few streets away, we met Anya. Her house was one of the newest and biggest in the village, only completed the month before the war started. Next-door to it is her mother’s house, also big and new, where she lived with Anya’s sister. The family had not always been wealthy, but their farm in the village had been successful. Bit by bit, they had accumulated enough money to build the houses of their dreams. When the full-scale invasion began, Anya, her sister, and all of their children managed to escape to Kharkiv. Their mother refused to leave. Under occupation, Russian soldiers moved into both houses and made bases in them, with the mother living in one room and the soldiers in the rest of the house. At some point, the garden was hit, blowing out the windows in both houses. When the territory was liberated and the Russians forced to flee, they set fire to one of the houses. Luckily it was quickly put out, but the inside remains blackened and burned out. Anya’s mother still stayed put until a few months ago when the stress of the occupation, combined with the continued shelling audible in the village, along with the knowledge that the farm she had spent her life developing had been entirely destroyed, and with it not only her income, but that of her children, led to her having a stroke which has left her paralysed. She now lives in Kharkiv with Anya who cares for her. They plan to return to the village in spring, due to a combination of unaffordable rents, homesickness, and the need for a downstairs bedroom. We repaired windows in both houses in December.
This issue of vandalism by Russian soldiers resurfaces again and again in de-occupied territories. In the same village, we have repaired Maria’s windows. Until the start of the full-scale invasion, Maria and her sister lived on the same plot of land, each with their own. Both sisters left the village with their children at the start of the war. Maria’s sister’s house was completely destroyed by a direct hit, leaving nothing at all. Remarkably, despite being only next door, Maria’s survived unscathed. However, Russian soldiers then moved in. After they were forced to flee back across the border in September 2022, they took with them all of the furniture they could carry, shot through the windows and mirrors and vandalised her family photos. We have replaced all of the windows in Maria’s house.
To think about what a comparatively small area we work in and how much suffering we see, and then to consider how much more there is across occupied, deoccupied, frontline, and former-frontline areas of Ukraine is overwhelming. Despite this, we have to keep doing what we do. As well as providing a practical service by repairing and replacing what has been destroyed and by supporting the local economy, there is also a huge emotional element to it. By giving people windows, doors, boilers, etc., we are giving them hope that a normal life might return. They can sit in their own home, where they have lived all their lives, and feel at least somewhat secure, without the wind which comes from an open space where a window once was, or the lack of light or a view that comes when a window is covered by plywood, reminding them of what has happened to them. Giving people those moments where they can forget about the war and feel normal is worth more than anything else. It may not sound like much, but for people who have lost everything, it is at least something.
So, thank you all for sticking with us thus far. We keep working, having this week started measurements on another 38 houses in two different villages. These will take us to a total of 750 homes repaired, which is an amazing feat. Not only are we so grateful, but so are all the people we work with on the ground here. Your donations are changing lives here every day and it is a privilege to be able to see it happen. Please keep donating and sharing our work.
We are also so pleased to say that KHARPP’s long-term collaborator and friend Janina Pedan is selling some of her beautiful silk scarves to raise money for our work. The scarves depict the sinking of what was the largest Russian warship, the Moskva, at the start of the war. A large scarf (68cm x 68cm) costs £100, whilst a small (41cm x 41xm) is £50. To order, please contact her on Instagram (@janapedan) or via email (janina.pedan@gmail.com).
To finish, here are some happier photos of our windows being installed and of their recipients:
Thank you!
Your repair work to all of those homes in the face of ongoing war is an inspiration in a world that needs inspiration! In the 21st century we should be past unprovoked invasion and attempted conquest, as well as military attacks on civilian populations. Unfortunately, barbarian criminal societies are still with us in certain countries.