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Attention! Translation was done using AI, mistakes are possible
Who the hell knows — we’re talking right now, and in an hour and a half a rocket might hit my house, and we’ll never see each other again. There’s a war in the city right now.
The humanitarian situation in Kherson is the worst I’ve seen in my life. For example, there’s this hungry grandmother. We drive up to her with the guys, she comes out, crying her eyes out, nearly falling to her knees just because she’s starving. Nothing has come in from the outside for over a week now. Well, actually, alcohol has — it’s easier to find than plain water. I just walk down the street wanting a drink, and nobody can even pour me water, because there is none anywhere. But there’s alcohol, and tons of it. I think they’re deliberately numbing our people.
Medicine has almost completely run out. The only thing left is Euthyrox for people who need it after the nuclear power plant accident. We have a lot of people here who used to work at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. They have thyroid problems. God, the prices on medication here — they bring you to tears. Euthyrox used to cost 120 hryvnias, but a month ago it was going for as much as 900 hryvnias.
Everyone just started making money off the war. Plenty of people are already chummy with the Russians, hauling counterfeit cigarettes, goods, and medicine from Crimea and just standing around at the market selling them. You walk into the market and you can hear whatever you want — like a seaside resort. Every meter is packed with some vendor. They’ve already started accepting the ruble. There was a car with a sign: “We accept dollars, euros, and rubles.”
We’ve got a real 1990s situation here — the bandits have come crawling out too. They’re not for Ukraine or Russia — all they care about is how to make money off people. If you want to experience the '90s, come visit us. I didn’t live through that era, of course, but from my parents' stories it’s obvious we’ve really gone back.
There are tons of people who support the Russians. But there’s also half who don’t. There are far more of them than those pro-Russian ones. It’s just that everyone knows the pro-Russian types are guarded and protected. And some of our people have been scared to such a degree that they’re afraid to even step outside for groceries. People have different mentalities: half of them are just scumbags. Excuse the word, but that’s really what it is.
Some are for Russia, some are for Ukraine. Everyone just wants to survive. The rallies against the occupiers continue. Our people run around, rip out Russian flags by the roots, burn them, hang up notes: “Occupier, watch out — we know where you are.” The guys are doing great, they don’t give up.
A couple of teenage boys, 16 years old, told a pro-Russian woman: “Take a hike with your flag.” She went and complained, and for that they were tortured with a stun gun for 4 days. They hold you for a minimum of 3 to 4 days. Some people never came back. But most did.
In Kherson, there’s a place where they hold people — it’s called “The Glass House.” It’s a commandant’s office, supposedly police, like they’re maintaining order. Like Russia’s Rosgvardia. God, they torture people there so badly — I’ve had so many friends end up there. They got taken in for things like mouthing off to pro-Russian types, who then went and complained, and they were snatched up and beaten in the basement for it. I was told about one situation that happened there. There was a guy sitting in that basement, being beaten. One of the Russians told him: “Kiss my ass and we’ll let you go.” He said: “Seriously? Fine, I’ll do it.” For that, they beat him half to death and locked him in a cell.
Being a volunteer in Kherson right now is extremely dangerous. A few days ago, a vehicle was fired upon — it was delivering life-saving medicine from Kryvyi Rih. 10 people wounded and 3 killed. Our driver was incredibly lucky — he survived. He calls me at night: “Bohdan, can I ask you something?” I say: “What happened?” He says: “We were shot up. I’m taking the wounded to safety right now. Can you please look after my family?” His little daughter was there with his sick grandmother.
Sometimes we’d manage to smuggle products in from Mykolaiv. We’d hide everything in the car — under the seats, under the upholstery. But for the past week, nobody has been able to get in or bring anything in. And those who manage to slip through on secret routes are simply shot at. So we’re trying to squeeze out everything we can from inside. It’s incredibly difficult. We grab at any opportunity, sink our teeth into it.
Checkpoints are the worst thing about this war. I was driving to check on my grandmother at her dacha. That’s 80 kilometers from Kherson — you have to pass through 5 checkpoints. At each one, there are different people with different mentalities: one might let you through calmly, another will say: “What do you think, you little Ukrainian, get the hell out of here,” and some just hassle you. For example, today my father and I were driving and we went slightly over the speed limit. The guy grabs his rifle and aims it at me. I’m thinking: “Great, now they’re going to shoot me for speeding.” He says: “Why are you speeding? Do you even know where you are?”
Five checkpoints — five different adventures. I ask, for example: “Is it possible to get to my dacha without running into any trouble?” He says: “Why are you afraid? After all, we came here to liberate you.” I haven’t said this yet, but I’m planning that if someone at a checkpoint hassles me, I’ll say: “You came here to liberate us, so why are you giving me trouble?” Unbelievable.
My friend and I decided to leave Kherson. I figured it would be fine, nobody would check my phone — who cares about me. We get to a checkpoint, and they say: “Strip to the waist, show your torso, show everything, hand over your phone, show your Telegram, TikTok, all your files.” My God — I’m standing there bare-chested, and he’s watching a video address to Zelenskyy that I recorded. I’m already saying goodbye to life, thinking: “That’s it, I’m done. They’re going to take me.” In the end, he just scrolls past it and says: “What’s that you’re mumbling?” I go: “Oh, it’s nothing, just some nonsense. Just a video message.” He says: “Alright, alright.” Next video — footage of Russians getting hit. And they tell me: “Now for this one, you’re in trouble.” I ask: “And for volunteering, nothing will happen to me?” He answers: “Well, I haven’t taken you in, have I?” I say: “Understood.” In the end, they let me go. The volunteers they hunt down are the ones helping the Armed Forces of Ukraine — specifically those who collect funds for helmets, scopes.
Refugees were coming to us from the eastern part of the country, asking for help. This is the most terrifying case I was told about. A man was helping refugees, transporting them toward Mykolaiv. They were stopped, and he was shot in the head. They said: “Oops, sorry — we were aiming for the tires.” He was with his sister, and she was hit too. In short, everything is really bleak here.
