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Milena is a journalist. Being first evacuated from the occupied Crimea in 2014, and recently was forced to flee from Russian troops again. Before the full-scale invasion, the woman used to work for the «Dom» TV channel. It’s a Russian-language TV channel providing state information and entertainment for the residents of the temporarily occupied territories – D/LNR and Crimea, created by the Ministry of Reintegration of the Temporarily Occupied Territories of Ukraine. Currently, Milena is involved in a media project covering the Russian-Ukrainian war for Western audiences.
In the early days, refugees slept on top of each other in the vestibule
Not only did I hear air sirens, but also the sound of shells exploding. I spent several nights in the subway at Lukyanivska station. Although you feel safe there, there are no conditions for one and a half thousand people like you: someone with children, someone with giant dogs. So then I spent the night in the bathroom. I had to take more seriously the life safety lessons at school.
I was evacuated to Lviv on the sixth day of the war, March 2. I will not say that something became a starting point, just friends helped to find an apartment in this city, and I decided to go because it became dangerous in Kyiv. The train was normal, not an evacuation one, but when I got to my car, I was denied boarding. The guide said there were no seats. I replied that I had a ticket, but he didn’t care. Someone has already taken my place, it wasn’t necessary to buy a ticket for 650 hryvnias – money for the wind. I was afraid that I would have to wait for the evacuation, and if I didn’t get there, I would spend the night at the station, because it was curfew. The good conductor of the other car showed humanity, checked the ticket and put me in place, for which I’m grateful.
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Before the war, it was possible to get to Lviv on Intercity in less than six hours. We went for eleven, but the trip passed without incident. I did not sit on my bags in the aisle as the first evacuees. In the first days of the war, refugees rode and slept on top of each other in the vestibule. Therefore, it can be said, I went with comfort.
I did not believe that in our time this is possible…
Until recently, I did not believe that a war would break out. Not because I hoped so much for Putin’s humanity, but because I didn’t believe it was possible today. I could not answer the question why to attack Ukraine. What have we done to wage a full-scale war on us…
A week later, the word «hold on» has already begun to tingle me. Because, apart from it, relatives and friends did not write anything. I understand that they could not write me something else about the war, but it did not make it easier. I think I would have stayed in Kyiv if my friends hadn’t said they were ready to help me in Lviv. I did not want to leave the capital, because in my mind, it seemed to increase the likelihood that I may not return here.
I always thought my generation would be different. That for us the war will remain in the books and stories of grandparents, but no. Here I am – a generation of war. I talk to relatives and friends on the phone and directly say: we have a war here. While evacuating, I recalled the deportation of Crimean Tatars from Crimea on May 18, 1944, by criminal Soviet authorities. Half of my people died on the way, because they were transported in freight cars, cattle cars without food and water for days, weeks.
Later, Crimean Tatar activists fought for the right to return to their homeland. Because it seemed that it’s the XXI century. Most people were able to return, get back on their feet, and rebuild again. It seemed that we were finally able to live peacefully again on the land of our ancestors, the Crimea.
It turned out to be wrong. The occupation and illegal annexation of the peninsula in 2014 forced thousands of my compatriots to leave it again. Many people were forced to start life anew where the Russian invader did not set foot. I also had to make a choice – and I chose freedom. Then I knew that I was going for a long time, because everyone already understood: deoccupation will not come quickly.
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I hope I don’t have to give gold earrings for my loaf of bread like my grandmother.
I never thought that I would stand in line for bread in Kyiv. And not just because it was so hot that the girl behind the counter burned her fingers. People stood in line because there was no other option to buy bread. I hope I will not have to give my grandmother gold earrings for a loaf of bread during my deportation to Uzbekistan.
Many acquaintances said that they were not allowed on the train with large suitcases. So I decided to put things in a travel bag to make it easier. It is impossible to fit all your life, all your achievements in one bag. And when they ask me if I took what I needed, I don’t know what to say. What could I take with me if my whole life remained there, in Kyiv? Home, work, friends – in one day, everything ceased to exist. A new reality has emerged in which I feel like a temporary visitor. I was evacuated to a city I had never been to before. Lviv greeted me warmly, but I always wanted to meet it differently. And even as one of the new acquaintances holds an excursion to the centre or surroundings of this city, I cannot enjoy its beauty. Tension, uncertainty, fear still float in the air. It oppresses us all.
I will still return home to my native free Crimea
What’s next? Where further? And I do not want further. I don’t want to run because I’m not a refugee. I want back. First to Kyiv, where I will continue my career as a journalist and finally get a job as a radio host. I was supposed to air on the weekend, just before the Russian invasion. It was not destined. Later, I very much hope, I will still return home to my native free Crimea. Because my parents, like all Crimean Tatars, overcame the difficult path to live on the peninsula. They also once left the usual life in Uzbekistan to start from scratch in their homeland. Love for her in the Crimean Tatars is transmitted genetically. I realized this when I left the occupied peninsula.
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At the age of 25, it is more difficult to adapt to such radical changes if you are not ready for them than in your 20s. Because when you already have some experience behind you, status, environment, and in a day you get rid of all this, when you need the most basic thing – shelter, it destroys you from within. War outside the window, and there is a constant struggle with the soul. It is not possible to go to Kyiv yet, to Crimea either. All plans, all dreams – to nowhere. I hope everything can be returned soon, but I know that it will not be the same as before. According to the rules of journalism, I should end my story positively. I know this well. But to be honest, I do not find anything positive for myself. I do not plan to start a new life. I just started to enjoy what I had, because in it I am a journalist with some experience and a certain environment. However, in this life I ran away from the war for the second time, I ran away from Russia. And my problem now is to find a place to spend the night. Only and all. I understand you have to hold on somehow, but it’s not easy to do.
Roman Tyshchenko-Lamanskyi, created with the support of Foundation for Polish-German Cooperation
Translated by Vitalii Holich
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