
Bowl of Apples
In autumn, the East still holds on to its warmth so intensely, so you can wear a T-shirt. Trams move slowly down the deserted streets. The wind rustles through empty window frames
Read moreNikopol is a city in the Dnipropetrovsk region, located on the banks of the Dnieper River, directly opposite the occupied Enerhodar. The Russians constantly shell the city with artillery, mortars, and FPV drones. But despite the danger, almost 50 thousand people continue to live here. Among them are many children. They do not go to school and kindergartens; all their education is online. But still, some clubs operate in the city, and children try to engage in their favorite hobbies even under such conditions.
We meet Olga Hrishanova near her house. It is a five-story building with battered walls and windows, here and there boarded up with plywood.
“This is what the house looks like after the Russian shell hit,” the woman sighs, pointing at the building. There are still pieces of glass and parts of the facade lying around. The playground in the yard is also damaged—there are huge holes in the slides, and the handrails on the swings are broken.
Despite the constant Russian shelling, Olga and her 16-year-old daughter, Sofia, did not leave Nikopol during the entire full-scale invasion. Sofia has been diagnosed with childhood autism, and a complete change of scenery would be extremely stressful for her.
Sofia and her mother are always together. They walk the same streets of the city and plan a daily routine that at least gives them a little bit of ground to feel. Olga doesn't work. Despite the fact that Sofia is quite independent, it is dangerous to leave her alone at home. If a shell hits the house or nearby, the girl won't be able to help herself.
Due to shelling, the girl's room had to be rearranged. A blanket always hangs on the door. This is for the case of an explosion, so glass fragments do not injure Sofia, explains Olga. For the same reason, the desk was moved from the window to the wall. There is almost no daylight in the room, because there is a shelf with books right next to the window.
“We put books in two rows in the closet. If you believe the Internet, the books are protected from shrapnel. If the child is sleeping here, then we have no other option,” explains Olga.
During heavy shelling, Sofia goes to sleep in the corridor, taking with her mattresses that lie on the floor of the room. Often, the girl studies in the corridor if the shelling does not subside.
Sofia shows us the debris that almost “caught up” with her in early May. She and her mother were on their way to church for Easter. When the first explosion hit, they ran to a shelter near the bus stop and barely managed to close the door when, within seconds, pieces of walls, windows, and shrapnel were flying all around.
“Then there was the second episode, I even asked them to cover my ears because it was so loud. My parents couldn’t calm me down for a long time, I was even afraid to go out, but after a while, I went out myself,” the girl recalls. While we are talking, Sofia is spinning a toy in her hands. Sonic and computer games help her calm down and control herself when she gets scared.
Olga says that Sofia, like other children with autism, is very difficult to calm down. She is a member of the NGO “Living Truly”—an association of parents from Nikopol who raise children with disabilities and developmental disorders.
"Sofia has a peculiarity called auto-aggression. Because of her nervousness from the explosions, she would pull her hair, pinch herself, and bite herself. Now, you could say, Sofia is a little used to it. She no longer harms herself, but she still screams and covers her ears. When there is shelling at night, she calls me. She screams in horror, "Mom!" I can't listen to it. It's really scary when a child is sixteen years old and she calls her mom at night out of fear, without waking up," says Olga.
Like many other families, Olga and Sofia do not have housing in other, more peaceful regions, and in Nikopol, they have elderly relatives who need to be looked after. Because of this, people simply cannot afford to leave the city. And even under such conditions, Sofia continues not only to study, but also to engage in her favorite hobby: she records and uploads videos of the games she plays to her YouTube channel, and tries to develop applications and websites, as she loves computer science. Another consolation for Sofia and her mother is their house cats: Maksik and Lyolik. Olga volunteers in this way.
"I collect homeless animals, treat them, and try to rehome them. And these are the most "hopeless" ones, cured, we put our whole soul into them, and they stayed with us. Kitties are our antidepressants," says Olga, "they really calm us down."
War has a significant impact on the psyche of children, it has its consequences and needs to be addressed now. Psychologist Olga Kolinko works with children in Nikopol. She considers it her mission to help children overcome the fears of war.
The first thing that catches the eye in Olga's room is the toys. They are everywhere: on the table, on the shelves, on the windowsill.
"Here are all the magic toys. And when a child comes here, I say: "Among all these magic toys, only one is yours. You can choose it." And when the child chooses a toy, I ask why the child chose this particular toy, why this particular color, what they liked about it, and whether it reminds them of something. And the child builds his story on this. Then I ask him to give it a name, imagine where this toy will sleep, and what the child will feed it with. The child transfers his care to the toy and is less afraid. The toy seems to take away his fears," says the psychologist.
In Olga's classes, there are many different activities for children, including drawing. Children draw what they want. One of the girls in the class draws a big sun and chats lively with her friend. Ani is 9 years old, and she often comes to Olga Pavlivna. In the class, she draws the sun, laughs. And at the same time, she remembers the details of the shelling:
“There was such a hole in the fence,” the girl tries to show with her hands, “and a few meters later, there is a house, it burned down completely.”
“Tell us about our city, how we live here, we are holding on, everything will be Ukraine,” say the parents of the children who are waiting for them after the classes.
Children, each with their drawing, run out into the street. There is not a cloud in the sky, the sun is shining brightly, and the trees are greening up all around in the yard. They hurry to give their drawings to their parents, some stay nearby, and some run to the playground to play with their peers after class.
“You know, for some reason, small children run to me and hug me. This is the best thing for me when they come and they like it here,” the psychologist says with a smile and adds, “I want to give them energy so that they can survive these explosions. There are a lot of children. Everyone has seen something, heard something, and here they are distracted among their peers. I always try to give them something interesting and never force them to do anything. I hope it will be a warm memory for them that there was such an Olga Pavlivna who tried to tell something interesting.”
Nina Kolisnychenko is a vocal teacher, head of the exemplary vocal studio "Octava". According to her, now she is the only singing teacher in Nikopol. The building where the children study is completely covered with plywood, and at first, it seems that there is no one there at all. The studio is hung with diplomas and awards. The children continue to study and participate in competitions.
“I stay here not only because it’s my job, but also because I don’t want to leave the children who stayed here,” says the teacher. Nina left the city when the heavy shelling began, but she returned. The woman says that there are many people like her in the city who have returned. So the children have also started returning to classes.
“Some people spend the night in Pokrov, in a neighboring city, and those who don’t live on the embankment live here, they stay,” says Nina. “When I was taking a course with a psychologist, she cried and asked me why I was sitting here, she told me to leave because during our online meetings, there was heavy shelling, and she heard it all.” Despite this, Nina shares that it was working here, at home, that helped her restore her mental health.
Parents bring their children to classes primarily for therapeutic purposes, Nina says: "It seems to me that everyone comes here more to get distracted. Well, how else? If you take your child to classes during breaks between shelling, then why are you taking them? Do you want to make a star out of them? What a star! Here, you just want to stay psychologically healthy."
And even under such conditions, the children are strongly motivated, diligently follow all the teacher's instructions, and go to competitions—just like children from other cities in Ukraine.
Kira is one of Nina's students. She lives in the most dangerous part of the city, closest to the Dnieper. And yet she attends vocal lessons twice a week. She says that this is her favorite thing to do, and she is just used to walking around the city.
In another part of the city, Veronika Kirpa teaches dance classes. Her profession is her life. Veronika has always worked with children, so she says she can’t imagine doing anything else now.
While we are talking, the teacher's local siren goes off on her phone. A stern voice announces: "Attention! The threat of shelling has been eliminated! Pay attention! Another alarm is still ongoing." The woman rolls her eyes in passing. Everyone in the city is already used to alarms. However, Veronika is not ready to risk the lives and health of her students. In the event of an alarm, they immediately go to the shelter.
“Everything is very conveniently arranged here. Right is the door,” the woman points with her hand, “we go out and go to the bomb shelter. Now it’s the norm. We immediately take everything and go down. The first few times we went down and just sat there with the children. But we have to do something. So we started dancing there too. Yes, there are certain inconveniences, but we can do something there. We dance what we can dance standing up. Sometimes we surprise people who also go into the shelter just to wait out the alarm or shelling. And I tell the girls: “See, you’ve got an audience right away!”
Before the start of the full-scale war, Veronica had about 100 children, now there are half as many, up to 50.
The girls wear black wigs, they all look as one. The music turns on, and they demonstrate the material they have learned. Veronica occasionally corrects the students' mistakes, and they listen and dance.
“For children, these classes are also an opportunity to communicate. They come half an hour before the class starts, and fool around here. In general, I am strict as a teacher, but I don’t interfere with them. When we first started classes [after the full-scale invasion began], the children just sat in different corners and didn’t even talk to each other,” Veronika shares.
In one of the most remote areas of Nikopol, there is another place where children can escape the harsh realities of war. This is a ranch where children go horseback riding. There is a wide field here, and on the other side of the Dnieper, the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant, occupied by the Russians, is already visible.
A car drives up to the gate, from which a red-haired girl gets out. It is the grandfather who brought his granddaughter Violetta to the lesson. Following the trainer's instructions, the girl carefully cleans the horse, puts on the saddle, and adjusts it to fit her. Violetta has been riding for a year. She says that she has had a passion for horses since an early age. They give her a sense of peace.
But this place could not have been. After heavy and frequent shelling in the fall of 2022, Tetyana, the owner of the ranch, gave up her horses for adoption and went abroad. But after months of living in another country, she realized that she wanted to return home and continue doing what she loved. And although there are few students, Tetyana says that she sees how horse training helps those who are engaged in it.
“The children are becoming calmer. Violetta’s grandfather motivates her to do her homework with activities,” says the ranch owner.
On the last day of our work in Nikopol, many explosions were heard in broad daylight. We were in the park at the time. None of the children who were playing on the playground at the time reacted to the explosions.
In autumn, the East still holds on to its warmth so intensely, so you can wear a T-shirt. Trams move slowly down the deserted streets. The wind rustles through empty window frames
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