Photo of Dzvinka Kachur (top): https://www.sun.ac.za/cst/person/dzvinka-kachur/; photo of Hannah Yanovska (below): https://www.uaza.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/Poetry-Africa2-15-Oct2017.jpg; picture of rapeseed: JACLOU-DL, https://pixabay.com/photos/rapeseed-cultivated-field-6197976/
Dzinka Kachur, Stellenbosch
Dzvinka Kachur: https://www.sun.ac.za/cst/person/dzvinka-kachur/
Dzvinka Kachur is a researcher at Stellenbosch University. Dzvinka is busy researching energy in Africa, with a specific interest in nuclear energy. Dzvinka holds degrees from the University of Oxford (MSc) and the National University of Kyiv-Mohyla Academy (MSc).
In the voice note as uploaded on Audiomack, she elaborates on her personal background and contextualises the narrative report by Hannah Yanovska (printed below the Audiomack clip).
Listen to Dzvinka Kachur:
Hannah Yanovska, Kharkiv
Hannah Yanovska: https://www.uaza.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/Poetry-Africa2-15-Oct2017.jpg
Hannah Yanovska is an Ukranian poet. She lives and reports from Kharkiv.
Read Hannah Yanovska’s narrative text below.
Ukrainian varenyky under the Russian missiles
I’ve finally got a chance to catch my breath a little, as those last three days were spent mostly on tracking and reacting to the news.
I guess I can say that I saw how the war began!
Roman woke up five or ten minutes before 5:00 am and read the news. As it turned out, Putin was declaring war at that moment.
Within a few minutes, I heard a roar and looked out of the window. I noticed a red glow and realised that the explosions were not near my parents’ home.
But what a sight it was: the suburb of Pyatihatki, the area where my parents are living – behind the forest, a little bit to the left – the skyscrapers were glowing. And on the right – a bright Venus, and underneath it a glow. And then, in about half a minute, a roar.
This is how life has turned out to be these days. They bomb in the evening. And with bags in hand, we go down from the tenth floor to the subway. It is proximately ten minutes’ walk, but with our bags we are not so fast.
In the morning, at the end of the curfew, we go home with our bags, on foot, to the tenth floor, bath, have breakfast and sleep. The adults are taking turns, with one being on duty. From time to time, we hear, here and there, explosions. Then – air raid sirens, one after the other, but mostly in other parts of the city. We eat lunch, and then they start bombing closer to us. Bags in hand, and the circle starts again.
At the same time, we work whenever we can. We call and message my parents, who live across the forest from us. Valya (12 years old) writes to friends, checking up on how things are with them.
Although sleeping in the subway is safe, it is also light and noisy.
In Oleksiivska (Олексіївська)[1], there are many student dormitories. The atmosphere is international: Africans, Indians and some large families from central Asia or Azerbaijan (not students).
I drew a little of what I saw, but I got tired, so only managed a few drawings. I posted them in “Drawing for breakfast”.
Valya said that if we had stayed at home, she had no idea how she would have survived. We didn’t really sleep; it was more of a rest.
Last night, all the men were on duty to prevent the possibility of saboteurs climbing into the subway. And now, with our bags packed, we’ll spend the night at home, taking turns sleeping.
[1] Oleksiivska (Ukrainian: Олексіївська) is a station on Kharkiv Metro’s Oleksiivska Line. The station opened on 21 December 2010. It was the terminus of the Oleksiivska Line until the Peremoha station was opened on 19 August 2016.
Ukrainian Association of South Africa started this petition to the South African Goverment. Click here to sign the petition.
- Editorial note: Since publication, Hannah Yanovska contacted Dzvinka Kachur to let her know that she just got on the train to get out of Kharkiv.
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