Latest news with #Illia
Emirates Woman
11-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Emirates Woman
8 fabulous activities to experience in Dubai this weekend
The London-based athleisure brand, VAARA by Tatiana Korsakova, opens its first international boutique at The Dubai EDITION. Designed with Studio XAG, the 20-square-metre space blends sculptural interiors with VAARA's signature pillars—Studio, Lounge, Beach, and Mountain. The boutique features the Essentials range in breathable fabrics like SEACELL, and the Eco Seamless collection known for its precision fit and clean lines. Open daily from 9 AM to 9 PM with two-hour delivery via Careem, the space offers a refined retail experience rooted in style, function, and elevated wellbeing. For more information visit Indulge in this new delivery-only concept This new delivery-only concept by Sunset Hospitality Group, inspired by the energy and flavours of China's vibrant street food culture. Designed specifically for Dubai's fast-paced lifestyle, it brings elevated Chinese classics straight to your door, rooted in heritage, crafted with precision, and served with soul. From dumplings to authentic noodles, each dish is worth trying. For more information visit Book your night swim View this post on Instagram A post shared by Ириша ♀️ (@borulkoira) Eva Beach Club introduces The Club Night Swim, a twilight escape running every Friday to Sunday from 6 PM. With extended pool access until 11 PM, guests can unwind with moonlit swims, golden-hour cocktails, and Mediterranean bites in a glowing beachfront lounge. A minimum spend of Dhs150 per person applies, fully redeemable on Eva's signature food and drinks perfect for those who crave calm seas and good company after dark. It takes place at The Club, Palm Jumeirah Dubai. For more information visit Try a sip and paint session with your friends Set within SOHUM Wellness Sanctury's serene atmosphere, guests are invited to unleash their inner creativity with a guided painting session, while enjoying a refreshing mocktail or smoothie of choice. For just Dhs150 (with a minimum F&B spend of Dhs100), the experience includes all painting materials and a personal canvas to take home, making it a perfect evening of artistry flow, vibrant colours and a soulful connection. For more information visit Visit this eclectic bistro This homegrown bistro redefines what dining out feels like. A Normal Day is a homegrown bistro in Dar Wasl Mall, Jumeirah, offers a laid-back charm with sophisticated cuisine. Conceived by locally raised creatives, the space feels like a housewarming filled with personal objects, collected art, and quiet detail offering elevated yet approachable dishes rooted in seasonality and quality. From standout all-day breakfasts like Avo & Mango Toast and and Shakshuka to dinner favourites such as Striploin Steak MB6 and Honey Cake, every plate reflects care and creativity. By night, the bistro transforms into an intimate dining spot, while its in-house Test Kitchen led by Head Chef Illia pushes boundaries with exclusive weekend concepts, interactive menus, and behind-the-scenes experiences, positioning A Normal Day as a standout in Dubai's vibrant food scene. For more information visit @ Give your tresses some love Tucked within the serene setting of Park Hyatt Dubai, the Rossano Ferretti Hair Spa offers a luxurious escape rooted in Italian elegance and expert hair artistry. Founded by the renowned 'Hair Maestro' Rossano Ferretti, the spa showcases the award-winning Ferretti Method—a personalised cutting technique designed to enhance each client's natural beauty through the hair's natural fall and appointment is tailored, using Ferretti's cruelty-free, Italian-made haircare line to restore vitality and embrace effortless elegance. As one of Dubai's most exclusive hair destinations, it delivers transformative care in a calm, refined setting. For more information visit Try this delectable supper club collab This summer, acclaimed Dubai supper club Haus of Vo presents a special four-hands dinner with German chef Robin Höfer on Saturday 12 and Sunday 13 July. Known for his playful take on fine dining, Höfer—trained in MICHELIN-starred kitchens across Europe and Dubai will showcase a 13-course private dining experience inspired by his Southern German roots and love for Asian flavours, featuring inventive dishes like the Black Forest Praline and Mulled Wine Granita. Founded by Lisa Vo, aka Madame Vo, Haus of Vo is rooted in her Vietnamese-German heritage and a mission to foster connection through food. This exclusive collaboration merges both chefs' cultural influences and shared love for hospitality, with only ten seats available each night. To book visit @hausofvo or @chefrobinhoefer Instagram to book Stock up on your jewellery Known for their sun-kissed summer jewellery, AMIE Dubai has launched gold-plated enamel fashion jewellery at Poison Drop in Dubai Hills Mall. It includes a carefully curated line of bracelets, earrings, rings, and necklaces that celebrates the warmth, freedom, and effortless style of the season. Available now exclusively in Poison Drop (Dubai Hills Mall), the collection invites wearers to build a personal jewellery wardrobe that reflects their style, story, and summer state of mind. It offers fashion-forward pieces that focus on delicate chain necklaces to breezy linen looks. For more information visit – For more on luxury lifestyle, news, fashion and beauty follow Emirates Woman on Facebook and Instagram Images: Instagram & Feature Image: Instagram @aliceoliviac
Sunday Post
29-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Sunday Post
From war to Wimbledon... Ukraine refugee all set for tennis glory
Get a weekly round-up of stories from The Sunday Post: Thank you for signing up to our Sunday Post newsletter. Something went wrong - please try again later. Sign Up Three years ago, Illia Snaksarov was hitting a ball off the wall of a Glasgow hotel with a tennis racquet. This summer he's playing at Wimbledon. The 13-year-old had arrived in Glasgow after his family fled their war-torn home following Russia's invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Having travelled from their house in the town of Khmelnytskyi, in the region of Podolia, via Poland and London, Illia, mum Svitlana and dad Volodymyr arrived in Glasgow unsure where their future lay, waiting to be given a place to live. © Andrew Cawley Temporarily housed in a single hotel room surrounded by concrete between the M8 and the Broomielaw in Glasgow, thousands of miles from the familiarity of his family and friends in Ukraine, the opportunities for Illia to play outdoors were few. But the determined youngster found a way, taking his tennis racquet and ball to rally against himself, hitting shots off the wall round the side of the hotel. Now his tenacity and resilience have seen him fire an incredible ace – seeing off stiff competition to win a place at this summer's junior Wimbledon finals. Illia will follow in the footsteps of Ukrainian tennis legends like Elina Svitolina, Elena Baltacha and Andrei Medvedev by donning his whites to play on the most famous courts in tennis, at SW19. The teen will represent the West of Scotland at Play Your Way to Wimbledon, which gives players under 18 the chance to follow in their tennis heroes' footsteps. And mum and dad will be there to watch their son take his turn at the home of tennis. It's a long way from the days when Svitlana had to chastise her tennis-mad son for playing inside their family home, which has now been obliterated by the conflict. Speaking via a translator, Svitlana recalled how everything changed for the family in 2022. She said: 'There was a helicopter landing area close to our home and because of that there was a lot of shooting and fighting. We had to leave.' The family fled through Poland, eventually reaching the UK later that year, where they were processed to Glasgow as part of the government's response to the conflict. Illia's big break came when he was discovered by Lana MacKenzie, who was working as a translator at the hotel. A keen tennis player and member of the Western Club in the city, she offered to take him to the club to play tennis against other kids, rather than a wall. Illia's natural ability caught the eye of club coaches who gave him lessons and included him in the junior programme. Soon he was competing for Western in the West of Scotland inter-club leagues, landed a place in the West of Scotland squad and moved on to tournaments run by the game's governing body, the LTA. And this year he made it to the county finals of their Play Your Way to Wimbledon event, besting 60 other regional clubs. © Andrew Cawley The pupil of St Mungo's Academy in Glasgow's east end trains four times a week with dad Volodymyr on municipal courts at Queen's Park and Kelvingrove, as well as coaching sessions at Western, where next generation stars like Hamish Stewart – who narrowly missed a place at Wimbledon – also play. Illia and his parents now have a home in the Calton area of Glasgow. Volodymyr ran a grocery store in Ukraine. These days, as well as training Illia, he makes embroidered bracelets, which he sells at concerts and sporting events to raise funds for the war effort in Ukraine. He has now designed special bracelets based on the designs of each of the four tennis Grand Slam tournaments. Volodymyr, who has two sons from a previous marriage, one of whom is a soldier, the other a tennis coach, also ran junior tennis tournaments, having been inspired by watching Boris Yeltzen, former president of the Russian Federation, playing tennis on TV in the 1990s. Speaking via an interpreter, he said: 'I got excited about tennis from that point and started organising tournaments for kids to be involved in, taking a course in sewing in order to make tennis outfits for them.' Svitlana worked as a childminder in Ukraine and now volunteers in a charity shop while taking English classes at college. Illia, who speaks seven languages, said: 'It's been great to play at Western, because I didn't have anywhere to play, I didn't know any courts to go to. 'When I came here I started doing training sessions to work on my game. Then I started playing league matches after a couple of months.' His favourite player is Spanish former world No. 1 Carlos Alcaraz. He said: 'He plays good, aggressive tennis, and has a balanced mentality in games. I have a good serve, and can play aggressive forehands.' Having fled the conflict and left their lives and work behind, tennis has given the family a new focus. Svitlana said: 'Our main goal in coming here was for Illia to be safe.' Volodymyr added: 'We are so grateful for the training sessions. 'It is so exciting, we are really happy about what's happening. It's such a good start and is a chance for him to respect what he can achieve. We are so grateful to the club for what they have given him.' © Andrew Cawley For Illia, his summer holidays will be spent preparing for Wimbledon. He said: 'I don't think that much about home now. In Ukraine I wasn't playing as good as I am here, I have improved a lot. The support they've given me is very good. 'I'm really excited about playing at Wimbledon. I would like to become a pro, and maybe one day play at Wimbledon as a senior, not just a junior.' Western coach Julie Gordon said: 'If you can see it, you can be it. Illia has been hitting with Hamish Stewart, who very nearly qualified for Wimbledon, so it's great for him to be around inspirational figures like that. 'There are lots of pathways to professional tennis, like scholarships, and these things are possibilities for Illia. And you have to have a dream.'
IOL News
20-06-2025
- Politics
- IOL News
The Spectacle of Innocence: How the Narrative of 'Stolen Children' Became the West's Weapon of War
The portrayal of children in the Ukraine-Russia conflict serves as a potent tool of propaganda, revealing the complexities behind the narratives that shape public perception and policy, writes Gillian Schutte. Image: IOL / Ron AI In war, the image of a suffering child has long been one of the most potent tools of propaganda. A child is the cipher of innocence, the mirror of adult failure, the vessel into which we pour our grief, outrage, and moral certainty. It is no wonder, then, that in the ongoing geopolitical conflict between NATO-backed Ukraine and Russia, children have become a front line in the information war. The Washington Post's tear-soaked profile 'Thousands of Ukraine's children vanished into Russia. This one made it back' follows the return of 12-year-old Illia Matviienko, a child allegedly abducted, reprogrammed, and rescued just in time from the clutches of Russian state adoption. It is a finely crafted narrative. Illia is traumatised but eloquent. His grandmother is tireless and brave. His toys are metaphors. His memories are edited for maximum effect. But behind the Lego blocks and Garfield plush toys lies a darker machinery of manipulation. The story reads like it was written by a Pentagon-funded scriptwriter, with emotional cues planted at every paragraph break, not to report on the tragedy of war, but to mobilise sentiment for war. Let us look past the misty-eyed storytelling and ask the harder questions. What really happened to Ukraine's children? Who is keeping the score? And who benefits from turning their suffering into clickbait diplomacy? The Propaganda Template, From Wag the Dog to Wag the Child The Washington Post, long known for its role in manufacturing consent for U.S. foreign policy, frames Illia's ordeal as evidence of systematic Russian child theft. His story becomes the keystone in a broader claim: that tens of thousands of Ukrainian children have been deported, re-educated, and erased by the Russian state. The article even cites figures: 'at least 19,500 children' according to Yale University's Conflict Observatory, whose funding, incidentally, is being cut under Donald Trump's administration. Ukrainian officials inflate the figure still further: 'maybe 50,000, maybe 100,000.' No one knows for sure. No one can prove anything. But certainty is not required in the spectacle of war propaganda, only repetition and righteous tears. The real figures? According to Russia's official delegation at the Istanbul peace talks, led by Vladimir Medinsky, the only list ever presented to Moscow by Ukraine contains 339 names. Russia says it has already returned 101 of these children. Ukraine, for its part, has returned 22 Russian children who ended up in its care. These are verifiable exchanges. And yet the Western press refuses to mention these facts. Video Player is loading. Play Video Play Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration -:- Loaded : 0% Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Window Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Dropshadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. Advertisement Next Stay Close ✕ Ad Loading Selective Suffering, Why Is Only One Child a Headline? The case of Illia Matviienko is tragic. But why is it the story? Because it performs well. It has all the ingredients of pathos: dead mother, lonely boy, forbidden adoption, grandmother's heroism, poetic justice. It sells. It moves. It inflames. But in Russia's version of events, there are also children traumatised by shelling, evacuated from war zones, not abducted. Many were found alone in buildings or hospitals. Others were taken to safety at great personal risk by Russian soldiers, some of whom died in the effort. And when relatives come forward, parents, aunts, grandmothers, the children are reunited. No obstacle, no cover-up. Just bureaucracy and war. Yet these stories are not told. There are no Washington Post front pages for the Russian soldier who saves a wounded child under fire. There is no Pulitzer bait in the case of a child returned to a reunited family in Donetsk. These children do not cry in English. They are not crying for NATO. Manufactured Numbers, Manufactured Consent Russia has repeatedly demanded evidence: names, documents, statements from parents. None have been forthcoming. The Ukrainian and U.S. positions rely on estimates, projections, and a deep well of emotional speculation. Russia, meanwhile, says: here is the list you gave us, here are the returns we've made. The disparity between accusation and evidence is not accidental. It mirrors the propaganda campaign that preceded the war in Iraq, the intervention in Syria, the bombardment of Libya. Western soft power thrives on emotional shorthand: Saddam's incubator babies, Gaddafi's Viagra-fuelled soldiers, and now Putin's child kidnappers. It is a pattern. The facts are fluid. The imagery is fixed. What Russia Says, and the West Won't Print Medinsky's statement in Istanbul was clear. Russia is open to verification. Russia is returning children. Russia is establishing regular exchanges. It has proposed temporary ceasefires in 'grey zones' so commanders on both sides can collect the corpses of fallen soldiers, a practical and humane suggestion, met with silence. Meanwhile, Western media focuses on Lego toys and bedtime trauma. It does not ask why Ukraine will not publish a full list of the missing children. It does not examine the political utility of these stories in maintaining Western support, arms supplies, and diplomatic cover. Nor does it question why the first move in any peace negotiation is not truth and reconciliation, but a spotlight on Russian war crimes. The narrative must be secured before the facts can catch up. The Illusion of Innocence Yes, Illia's story is heartbreaking. All war stories involving children are. But to isolate it from the broader matrix of wartime reality, to use it as a blunt weapon against the Russian state, to decontextualise and sentimentalise it into a moral fable, is to exploit that child all over again. War is complex. Children are not pawns. But in the battle of narratives, they become precisely that. They are used to distract from inconvenient truths, to derail diplomacy, to justify endless escalation. And while the West cries for Illia, what of Vitalii, the friend left behind in the Donetsk hospital? What if he was never abducted, just never found? What if he was just another casualty of the same propaganda war that made Illia a headline? Beyond the Toy Box The Washington Post piece may be compelling. It is certainly emotive. But it is not journalism. It is spectacle. A carefully staged morality play in which there are only villains and victims, no context, no complexity, no dissenting voice. The weaponisation of children is one of the oldest tricks in imperial warfare. And as long as mainstream media continues to traffic in half-truths and Hollywood storylines, the real victims of this war, on both sides, will remain unheard. We should care for every child affected by war. But we should be suspicious of which children we are told to care about, and why. The portrayal of children in the Ukraine-Russia conflict serves as a potent tool of propaganda, revealing the complexities behind the narratives that shape public perception and policy, writes Gillian Schutte. Image: IOL
IOL News
04-06-2025
- General
- IOL News
Thousands of Ukraine's children vanished into Russia. This one made it back.
Illia Matviienko, 12, shows one of his favorite Lego toys at home in Uzhhorod, Ukraine, on April 12. Image: Oksana Parafeniuk/For The Washington Post Lizzie Johnson and Kostiantyn Khudov The boy from Mariupol still wasn't ready to walk to the bus stop alone, so just before 8am, he and his grandmother set off for school together. He reached for her hand, zipping her fingers in his own, and stole a sip of her coffee. Illia Matviienko was almost 13 but still got lost easily. Three years had passed since his mother bled out in his arms after a Russian shelling, since a neighbour chipped her grave in the frozen winter of their yard, since soldiers found him alone and took him deeper into the occupied Donetsk territory, where he was put up for adoption. There, he almost became a different boy: a Russian one. Until his grandmother, Olena Matviienko, spotted him in a 26-second Russian propaganda video. Illia became an extraordinary test case for how, and whether, Ukraine could claw back its missing children - a journey that took Olena across four international borders and deep into Russia. 'I wouldn't have found him if I didn't see the video,' Olena, 64, said at their home in Uzhhorod, in far western Ukraine. 'He would be with a different family now. How much would he remember of who he was?' Illia's return in 2022 after weeks in a hospital in occupied Ukraine showed the difficulty of just getting back one child - let alone the tens of thousands of Ukrainian children now at the center of Kyiv's demands for peace. Deported or disappeared into Russia, their plight has united American politicians to pressure President Donald Trump for their safe return and spurred war crimes charges against Russian President Vladimir Putin and his deputy, children's rights commissioner Maria Lvova-Belova, for their illegal transfer - charges a Kremlin spokesman disputed as 'outrageous and unacceptable.' Video Player is loading. Play Video Play Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration -:- Loaded : 0% Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Window Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Dropshadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. Advertisement Video Player is loading. Play Video Play Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration -:- Loaded : 0% Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Window Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Dropshadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. Next Stay Close ✕ Illia and his grandmother, Olena Matviienko, 66, take a walk in the city center. Image: Oksana Parafeniuk/For The Washington Post During a meeting at the Vatican in May, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky appealed directly to Pope Leo XIV, asking for the church's assistance in bringing the children home. Ukraine wants a full accounting of all the children taken to Russia and their repatriation as part of any peace settlement. Exactly how many children are missing is unknown. The Conflict Observatory - part of Yale University's Humanitarian Research Lab, which has consistently provided the most accurate data but will shutter on July 1 because of Trump's federal funding cuts - has verified that at least 19 500 children were forcibly deported from occupied areas of Ukraine, funneled into re-education camps or adopted by Russian families, their identities erased. The real number is probably much higher, senior Ukrainian officials say, but cannot be proved because of poor recordkeeping. 'Maybe 50 000. Maybe 100 000. Maybe higher. Only Russia can provide us with this information,' said Mykola Kuleba, former children's ombudsman for Ukraine and head of the nonprofit Save Ukraine. In three years of full-scale war, only a small fraction of them have been returned - about 1 300 children - in deals brokered by Qatar, the United Arab Emirates and the Holy See, as well as in covert rescue missions run by volunteers. Progress is slow and excruciating because Russia 'changes their names, their place of birth, their date of birth,' said Daria Zarivna, an adviser to Zelensky's chief of staff who works on the Ukrainian initiative Bring Kids Back UA. 'All ties are cut.' Olena journeyed across four international borders and deep into Russia after seeing Illia in a 26-second video. Image: Oksana Parafeniuk/For The Washington Post 'I was Ukrainian' When Olena first brought Illia home to Uzhhorod in the spring of 2022, he slept with the lights on and the bedroom door wide open. Sirens and loud noises terrified him. He had four friends at school but feared no one understood what he'd been through. As one of the first children to return from Russia since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, Illia's case soon went public. Olena began receiving calls for him to testify in front of roomfuls of politicians. He agreed to speak to anyone who would listen. Germany's parliament came first. Illia was instructed to ignore the crowd, to only look at the person speaking to him. By the time he appeared at the United Nations last year, he was no longer nervous. He waited his turn, then carefully answered questions. He was barely visible behind the microphone - his unruly thatch of dark hair and moon-pale skin obscured. And then he told his story. The Russian soldiers found him a day after his mother died, he said, starting at the beginning. It was March 2022, and for weeks, he and his mother, Nataliia, had cowered in a basement in Mariupol, melting snow to drink and cooking over an open fire when their gas ran out. They ventured outside to look for food - and were badly injured by the Russian shelling of a nearby building. Illia's legs were bloody and shattered, the back of his left thigh a gaping wound. Nataliia sustained a serious head injury. She dragged her son into a nearby apartment building. They fell asleep inside, arms knotted around each other. The next morning, Illia awoke to stillness. Olena shows a photo of her daughter Nataliia and a photo of her makeshift grave. Image: Oksana Parafeniuk/For The Washington Post A neighbour took Nataliia's body away. Then, men in Russian uniforms arrived and drove Illia to a hospital in the city of Donetsk, 75 miles from the siege. Orphans from Mariupol filled the third floor. Illia listened to doctors debate whether to amputate his left leg before opting against it. He had surgery without anesthesia, he said, and was later interviewed on camera about his mother's death by a stranger. Instead of looking for his family or contacting his home country, as required by international law, officials issued him a Russian birth certificate and put him up for adoption. A social worker visited his hospital room, gifting him an orange plush Garfield cat and teaching him a Russian poem about a bear. She said she planned to adopt him. 'I didn't want to go,' Illia said later. 'It was Russia, and I was Ukrainian.' He befriended the boy next door, Vitalii, whose parents were also missing. Nurses told the boys that they - along with 30 other children - would soon be sent to Moscow. Illia wondered where his grandmother was. Illia with his friend Eldar at school in Uzhhorod. Image: Oksana Parafeniuk/For The Washington Post Olena's journey More than 1 200 kilometers away in Uzhhorod, Olena was reeling. A family friend had sent her a Russian propaganda video posted online of Illia in his hospital bed, speaking into a blue-and-red microphone. Olena grew up in the eastern industrial territory that Russia now controlled, working as a machine operator in a factory, then selling bread and cookies for a local bakery. When Illia's father abandoned Nataliia at six months pregnant, Olena vowed to help her daughter take care of the baby. She wasn't breaking that promise now. The only document she had to prove Illia was her grandson was a copy of Nataliia's passport. Volunteers at a local shelter helped her get copies of the rest - Illia's reissued Ukrainian birth certificate, her housing registration, custody paperwork, the police investigation into her daughter's death. She tucked the documents in a clear plastic bag and contacted the Presidential Office, which launched a first-of-its-kind special operation to get Illia back and, through volunteers in Russia, helped Olena get in touch with the hospital in Donetsk. On the phone, the head doctor told her Illia's adoption was pending. 'Don't you dare,' she remembers telling him. Within weeks, Olena and another man - whose young granddaughter, Kira, was also being held in Russia - boarded a special diplomatic train to Poland. Once there, Olena said they flew to Moscow on a private plane provided by a Russian oligarch, then took a 20-hour train to Donetsk. In the early years of the war, such an audacious journey was still possible, but now it's often not, officials say. After finally reaching the hospital, Olena wrapped a distraught Illia in her arms. 'He didn't believe it was me,' Olena said. 'He lost his hope. He didn't actually believe I would come and bring him back to Ukraine. Not until the very last minute … did he believe it.' As one of the first children to return from Russia since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, Illia's case went public and he's testified about his experience. Image: Oksana Parafeniuk/For The Washington Post The lucky one In the park out front of his school, Illia kissed Olena goodbye. He cut across the damp grass and veered inside, past a map of Ukraine - Crimea still tethered to the rest of the country, Mariupol tucked safely within its borders, Russia separated by a thick line of black. In Room #40, he sat near a window with a friend until class began. After a short quiz, his teacher Tetiana Dolgova observed the nationwide moment of silence for all the war had taken. 'Thank God this city is remote from the front lines,' she told the students. 'We need to remember every day who gave their lives for our happiness and freedom. It's not only about our servicemen at the front lines. Your classmate Illia witnessed the awfulness of this war with his own eyes.' When the students turned to look at him, he didn't duck his head. He was more confident now, the years dulling some of his memories. He could still recall Mariupol - how he and his mother would ride the city bus to the beach and wade in the cool waves of the Sea of Azov, and in the winter their snowball fights - but he thought about it less frequently. Photos from a family friend showed his former home in rubble, his two boxes of Lego gone, his five outdoor cats and two dogs vanished. Another photo showed his mother's grave, a wooden cross planted near the fence in the yard, overgrown with parched yellow grass - a place he could never visit. In Uzhhorod, Illia keeps his belongings on his grandmother's ironing board. The orange Garfield cat from the Russian social worker. A blue snake gifted by Olena after he testified to The Hague. A whale from Portugal, where he attended a 17-day rehabilitation programme. A bunny from Okhmatdyt Children's Hospital in Kyiv, where he is still in treatment for his legs, the shrapnel shifting painfully during gym. 'I will have them forever,' he said of his plush animals. 'They represent periods of my life and memories, from Donetsk to here.' He celebrates two birthdays now: the day he was born and the day Olena realized he was alive. Illia knew he was lucky. Russia had upended his life as he knew it - but he still had his identity. He was old enough to remember who he was. Unlike so many other Ukrainian children, he'd been found. Sometimes, he wondered if Vitalii, his friend in the hospital in Donetsk, had been, too. Or maybe he was now living in Moscow. Serhiy Morgunov and Serhii Korolchuk contributed to this report.
Business Insider
10-05-2025
- Business
- Business Insider
Meet the 93-year-old grocery store worker who loves his job — and has no plans to stop
John Shipton starts work three days a week at 8 a.m. on the checkouts at a supermarket in Exeter, southwest England. He's no different from his colleagues — apart from being 93 years old. "It's so much fun. I've got lovely customers," he told Business Insider. "I think I'll hang about a bit — I won't dash off at 95." Shipton started working at Waitrose, an upmarket British supermarket chain, on a three-month contract in 2011 before being offered a permanent role. "Every week the same customers are coming back time and time again," he said. "They're great, I love them." "I don't feel like it's work — it's more like play, to be honest." He described Waitrose as an incredible employer. Shipton said when he'd only been working at the store for about four years, he broke his hip while gardening but was given three months paid leave to recover. "And when I went back, they made sure that I had everything I needed to make life easy for me," he said. Shipton decided to apply for the supermarket job after reading a book by John Spedan Lewis, who established the John Lewis Partnership, which owns Waitrose along with the John Lewis department store chain. It's the UK's largest employee-owned business and all staff have a stake in the business. "I figured this man was going to be good to work for," he said. "I figured, although he died, his business was still running, and it was running as they organized it." Shipton said he'd previously worked at another supermarket for six years but wasn't entirely happy there. His career spanned a range of industries. He worked in electronics, as a maintenance controller for his city council and on a freelance basis as a computer programmer, and repairing antique furniture. Shipton attended college for two years but decided it wasn't for him. "They weren't teaching me what I wanted to know," he said, so he decided to join the army. "I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I could see that when I got to the age of 45 I was going to become grown out," he said. Shipton then worked in sales and marketing for big electronics companies. "I've always wanted to do something." 'Curious about the world' Shipton said he was "at a loss" for about a year when his wife, Julia Marise, died in 2021, followed by his cat a year later. "Then I thought, 'right, I'll take on some Ukrainian refugees,'" he said. Shipton said he spent his school days with Jewish refugees after World War II. "There was a lot of information about Auschwitz and so on, which made me think, you know, how can people start a war and treat people so badly?" he said. When Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, Shipton felt he had to do something to help. He wrote to the chairman of John Lewis to help Oksana get a job with the retailer. Her son, Illia, is in his final year of school and due to go to college next year. "They're fabulous people," he said. "I might have cooked three dinners in the last three years." Shipton said he and Illia have bonded over their shared interest in math. "I'm very interested in anti-matter and I'm studying that at the moment." No retirement plans The 93-year-old also regularly paints and reads. "I try and learn on a daily basis almost. I'm curious about the world. I'm curious about people." Shipton said he's never retired — and has no plans to do so: "I just enjoy working. As I say, it's not work, it's play." A few months ago Shipton said he was thinking of working until 95, but has decided to continue even longer. "My life is very full."
