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War zone vows amid air raid alerts
War zone vows amid air raid alerts

The Star

time29-06-2025

  • Politics
  • The Star

War zone vows amid air raid alerts

GATHERED in a wedding hall in the Ukrainian city of Sloviansk, near the front line, Anna and Pavlo Chornobai exchanged rings to the applause of a dozen of the groom's fellow soldiers. The bride insisted on a white dress for the civil ceremony. But on everything else, including the prospect of celebrating with friends and family, the Russian invasion of Ukraine forced her to make compromises. 'When I was a girl, there were horses and a puffy dress in my plans, so it's a bit different, but I don't regret it at all,' said the 22-year-old with a cherub tattoo on her collarbone. The war has given a sense of urgency to many military couples in Ukraine. Many see no point in waiting for a peace that seems little more than a mirage. Talk of ceasefires and an end to the three-year war have gripped Western capitals with US President Donald Trump pushing for a quick end to the fighting. But that all feels far from the reality in Sloviansk, around 20km from the front lines. With each air raid alert that rang out, the civil registry office's administrator, a woman in her 50s with a peroxide blond perm, ordered most visitors out of the building. They waited in front of a beige block initially built to be a cinema, topped with a rusty steel sign reading 'Mria' – meaning dream in Ukrainian. Pavlo's comrades, who he served with in the Azov brigade, were allowed in through the main entrance of the building, an exception. 'It's a pity that not all brothers-in-arms lived to see this. There are a lot of deaths,' Pavlo said. The 19-year-old said he had no doubts about his surprise proposal to Anna on Dec 31, 2024, despite having only met two months earlier when she served him coffee at a popular pastry chain. 'When you live at war, you become more decisive, more confident in your actions. War has quite influenced life; it changed it radically,' he said. Anna throwing a bouquet of flowers for the guests during her wedding ceremony with Pavlo at a civil registry office in Sloviansk, the eastern Donetsk region. — AFP Anna said she had luckily gotten a manicure ahead of New Year's Eve, ensuring perfect nails for photos of the ring. Ivan Salko said a gruelling experience on the front had pushed him to propose to his girlfriend, Tetyana. He spent four months defending a tough position in the eastern hotspot of Toretsk with no phone service or way of communicating with Tetyana. 'I was constantly thinking, I need to get out, and when I do, I need to accomplish something,' said Ivan. He proposed on a video-call from hospital while recovering from several wounds and a concussion. Tetyana almost broke down when she saw him on the screen. 'I understood it was difficult for him so I kept it together. I looked into his happy eyes; I was happy to see him. And then he proposed,' she said. But the prospect of another lengthy separation hung over their wedding in Sloviansk. Ivan was due to go back to the front the following day – this was their last opportunity to tie the knot, or otherwise be forced to wait for his next leave. In the face of the Russian invasion, Ukraine has introduced a video-link portal for couples to get married remotely, without needing to travel across the war-torn country to meet. Marriage offers some reassurance to military families, as spouses receive social support and are guaranteed a call if the partner is killed or wounded. But there is a months-long waiting list, said Lilya Lyashenko, who travelled to Sloviansk to marry Viktor Kravchuk. 'We would like it to be different. To go home, to reality. To celebrate and get married according to traditions. But there's no time,' said Kravchuk. Anna and Pavlo Chornobai managed to sneak in a few rituals to their hasty marriage ceremony. After the wedding officiant pronounced them husband and wife, Anna threw her bouquet to Pavlo's fellow servicemen. The flowers flew up toward the ceiling and then crashed on the floor, much to the group's amusement. A tall soldier rushed to scoop them up, smiled, and bowed. 'Don't postpone love for later. That's probably the most important thing,' Anna said. 'Don't wait for the right moment.' — AFP

Silent acts of resistance and fear under Russian occupation in Ukraine
Silent acts of resistance and fear under Russian occupation in Ukraine

Yahoo

time01-06-2025

  • General
  • Yahoo

Silent acts of resistance and fear under Russian occupation in Ukraine

A fifth of Ukrainian territory is now under Russian control, and for Ukrainians living under occupation there seems little chance that any future deal to end the war will change that. Three Ukrainians in different Russian-controlled cities have told the BBC of the pressures they face, from being forced to accept a Russian passport to the risks of carrying out small acts of resistance. We are not using their real names for their own safety, and will call them Mavka, Pavlo and Iryna. The potential dangers are the same, whether in Mariupol or Melitopol, seized by Russia in the full-scale invasion in 2022, or in Crimea which was annexed eight years before. Mavka chose to stay in Melitopol when the Russians invaded her city on 25 February 2022, "because it is unfair that someone can just come to my home and take it out". She has lived there since birth, midway between the Crimean peninsula and the regional capital Zaporizhzhia. In recent months she has noticed a ramping up of not only a strict policy of "Russification" in the city, but of an increased militarisation of all spheres of life, including in schools. She has shared pictures of a billboard promoting conscription to young locals, a school notebook with Putin's portrait on it, and photos and a video of pupils wearing Russian military uniforms instead of the school outfits - boys and girls - and performing military education tasks. Some 200km (125 miles) along the coast of the sea of Azov, and much closer to the Russian border, the city of Mariupol feels as if it has been "cut off" from the outside world, according to Pavlo. This key port and hub of Ukraine's steel industry was captured after a devastating siege and bombardment that lasted almost three months in 2022. Russian citizenship is now obligatory if you want to work or study or have an urgent medical help, Pavlo says. "If someone's child, let's say, refuses to sing the Russian anthem at school in the morning, the FSB [Russia's security service] will visit their parents, they will be 'pencilled in' and then anything can happen." Pavlo survived the siege despite being shot six times, including to his head. Now that he has recuperated, he feels he cannot leave because of elderly relatives. "Most of those who stayed in Mariupol or returned, did so to help their elderly parents or their sick grandparents, or because of their flat," he tells me over the phone after midnight so no-one will overhear. The biggest preoccupation in Mariupol is holding on to your home, as most of the property damaged in the Russian bombardment has been demolished, and the cost of living and unemployment has surged. "I'd say 95% of all talk in the city is about property: how to claim it back, how to sell it. You'll hear people talk about it while queuing to buy some bread, on your way to a chemist, in the food market, everywhere," he says. Crimea has been under occupation since Vladimir Putin annexed the peninsula in 2014, when Russia's war in Ukraine began. Iryna decided to remain, also to care for an elderly relative but also because she did not want to leave "her beautiful home". All signs of Ukrainian identity have been banned in public, and Iryna says she cannot speak Ukrainian in public any more, "as you never know who can tell the authorities on you". Children at nursery school in Crimea are told to sing the Russian anthem every morning, even the very youngest. All the teachers are Russian, most of them wives of soldiers who have moved in from Russia. Iryna occasionally puts on her traditional, embroidered vyshyvanka top when she has video calls with friends elsewhere on the peninsula. "It helps us to keep our spirits high, reminding us about our happy life before the occupation". But the risks are high, even for wearing a vyshyvanka. "They might not shoot you straight away, but you can simply disappear afterwards, silently," she declares. She speaks of a Ukrainian friend being questioned by police because Russian neighbours, who came to Crimea in 2014, told police he had illegal weapons. "Of course he didn't. Luckily they let him go in the end, but it's so frightening." Iryna complains that she cannot go out on her own even for coffee "because solders can put a gun at you and say something abusive or order you to please them". Resistance in Ukraine's occupied cities is dangerous, and it often comes in small acts of defiance aimed at reminding residents that they are not alone. In Melitopol, Mavka talks of being part of a secret female resistance movement called Zla Mavka (Angry Mavka) "to let people know that Ukrainians don't agree with the occupation, we didn't call for it, and we will never tolerate it". The network is made up of women and girls in "pretty much all occupied cities", according to Iryna, although she cannot reveal its size or scale because of the potential dangers for its members. Mavka describes her role in running the network's social media accounts, which document life under occupation and acts like placing Ukrainian symbols or leaflets in public places "to remind other Ukrainians that they are not alone", or even riskier practices. "Sometimes we also put a laxative in alcohol and baked goods for the Russian soldiers, as a 'welcome pack'," she says. Punishment for that kind of act, which the BBC is unable to verify, would be severe. Russia's occupation authorities treat the Ukrainian language or anything related to Ukraine as extremist, says Mavka. Ukrainians are well aware of what happened to journalist Viktoriia Roshchyna, 27, who disappeared while investigating allegations of torture prisons in eastern Ukraine in 2023. Russian authorities told her family she had died in custody in September 2024. Her body was returned earlier this month, with several organs removed and clear signs of torture. Silent disappearance is what Mavka fears most: "When suddenly nobody can find out where you are or what's happened to you." Her network has developed a set of tasks for new joiners to pass to avoid infiltration, and so far they have managed to avoid cyber attacks. For now they are waiting and watching: "We cannot take up arms and fight back against the occupier right now, but we want at least to show that pro-Ukrainian population is here, and it will also be here". She and others in Melitopol are following closely what is happening in Kyiv, "because it is important for us to know whether Kyiv is ready to fight for us. Even small steps matter". "We have a rollercoaster of moods here. Many are worried documents might get signed that, God forbid, leave us under Russian occupation for even longer. Because we know what Russia will do here." The worry for Mavka and people close to her is that if Kyiv does agree a ceasefire it could mean Russia pursuing the same policy as in Crimea, erasing Ukrainian identity and repressing the population. "They've been already replacing locals with their people. But people here are still hopeful, we will continue our resistance, we'll just have to be more creative". Unlike Mavka, Pavlo believes the war must end, even if it means losing his ability to return to Ukraine. "Human life is of the greatest value… but there are certain conditions for a ceasefire and not everyone might agree with them as it raises a question, why have all those people died then during the past three years? Would they feel abandoned and betrayed?" Pavlo is wary of talking, even via an encrypted line, but adds: "I don't envy anyone involved in this decision-making process. It won't be simple, black and white. Iryna fears for Crimea's next generation who have grown up in an atmosphere of violence and, she says, copy their fathers who have returned from Russia's war against Ukraine. She shows me her bandaged cat, and says a child on her street shot it with a rubber bullet. "For them it was fun. These kids are not taught to build peace, they are taught to fight. It breaks my heart." How the West is helping Russia to fund its war on Ukraine The terrifying new weapon changing the war in Ukraine Russian advance in Ukraine's north east may be attempt to create 'buffer zone'

Russian occupation in Ukraine: Silent acts of resistance and fear
Russian occupation in Ukraine: Silent acts of resistance and fear

BBC News

time01-06-2025

  • General
  • BBC News

Russian occupation in Ukraine: Silent acts of resistance and fear

A fifth of Ukrainian territory is now under Russian control, and for Ukrainians living under occupation there seems little chance that any future deal to end the war will change Ukrainians in different Russian-controlled cities have told the BBC of the pressures they face, from being forced to accept a Russian passport to the risks of carrying out small acts of resistance. We are not using their real names for their own safety, and will call them Mavka, Pavlo and potential dangers are the same, whether in Mariupol or Melitopol, seized by Russia in the full-scale invasion in 2022, or in Crimea which was annexed eight years chose to stay in Melitopol when the Russians invaded her city on 25 February 2022, "because it is unfair that someone can just come to my home and take it out".She has lived there since birth, midway between the Crimean peninsula and the regional capital recent months she has noticed a ramping up of not only a strict policy of "Russification" in the city, but of an increased militarisation of all spheres of life, including in has shared pictures of a billboard promoting conscription to young locals, a school notebook with Putin's portrait on it, and photos and a video of pupils wearing Russian military uniforms instead of the school outfits - boys and girls - and performing military education tasks. Some 200km (125 miles) along the coast of the sea of Azov, and much closer to the Russian border, the city of Mariupol feels as if it has been "cut off" from the outside world, according to key port and hub of Ukraine's steel industry was captured after a devastating siege and bombardment that lasted almost three months in citizenship is now obligatory if you want to work or study or have an urgent medical help, Pavlo says."If someone's child, let's say, refuses to sing the Russian anthem at school in the morning, the FSB [Russia's security service] will visit their parents, they will be 'pencilled in' and then anything can happen." Pavlo survived the siege despite being shot six times, including to his that he has recuperated, he feels he cannot leave because of elderly relatives."Most of those who stayed in Mariupol or returned, did so to help their elderly parents or their sick grandparents, or because of their flat," he tells me over the phone after midnight so no-one will biggest preoccupation in Mariupol is holding on to your home, as most of the property damaged in the Russian bombardment has been demolished, and the cost of living and unemployment has surged."I'd say 95% of all talk in the city is about property: how to claim it back, how to sell it. You'll hear people talk about it while queuing to buy some bread, on your way to a chemist, in the food market, everywhere," he says. Crimea has been under occupation since Vladimir Putin annexed the peninsula in 2014, when Russia's war in Ukraine decided to remain, also to care for an elderly relative but also because she did not want to leave "her beautiful home".All signs of Ukrainian identity have been banned in public, and Iryna says she cannot speak Ukrainian in public any more, "as you never know who can tell the authorities on you".Children at nursery school in Crimea are told to sing the Russian anthem every morning, even the very youngest. All the teachers are Russian, most of them wives of soldiers who have moved in from occasionally puts on her traditional, embroidered vyshyvanka top when she has video calls with friends elsewhere on the peninsula."It helps us to keep our spirits high, reminding us about our happy life before the occupation". But the risks are high, even for wearing a vyshyvanka. "They might not shoot you straight away, but you can simply disappear afterwards, silently," she speaks of a Ukrainian friend being questioned by police because Russian neighbours, who came to Crimea in 2014, told police he had illegal weapons. "Of course he didn't. Luckily they let him go in the end, but it's so frightening."Iryna complains that she cannot go out on her own even for coffee "because solders can put a gun at you and say something abusive or order you to please them". Resistance in Ukraine's occupied cities is dangerous, and it often comes in small acts of defiance aimed at reminding residents that they are not Melitopol, Mavka talks of being part of a secret female resistance movement called Zla Mavka (Angry Mavka) "to let people know that Ukrainians don't agree with the occupation, we didn't call for it, and we will never tolerate it".The network is made up of women and girls in "pretty much all occupied cities", according to Iryna, although she cannot reveal its size or scale because of the potential dangers for its describes her role in running the network's social media accounts, which document life under occupation and acts like placing Ukrainian symbols or leaflets in public places "to remind other Ukrainians that they are not alone", or even riskier practices. "Sometimes we also put a laxative in alcohol and baked goods for the Russian soldiers, as a 'welcome pack'," she for that kind of act, which the BBC is unable to verify, would be occupation authorities treat the Ukrainian language or anything related to Ukraine as extremist, says are well aware of what happened to journalist Viktoriia Roshchyna, 27, who disappeared while investigating allegations of torture prisons in eastern Ukraine in 2023. Russian authorities told her family she had died in custody in September 2024. Her body was returned earlier this month, with several organs removed and clear signs of torture. Silent disappearance is what Mavka fears most: "When suddenly nobody can find out where you are or what's happened to you."Her network has developed a set of tasks for new joiners to pass to avoid infiltration, and so far they have managed to avoid cyber now they are waiting and watching: "We cannot take up arms and fight back against the occupier right now, but we want at least to show that pro-Ukrainian population is here, and it will also be here".She and others in Melitopol are following closely what is happening in Kyiv, "because it is important for us to know whether Kyiv is ready to fight for us. Even small steps matter"."We have a rollercoaster of moods here. Many are worried documents might get signed that, God forbid, leave us under Russian occupation for even longer. Because we know what Russia will do here." The worry for Mavka and people close to her is that if Kyiv does agree a ceasefire it could mean Russia pursuing the same policy as in Crimea, erasing Ukrainian identity and repressing the population."They've been already replacing locals with their people. But people here are still hopeful, we will continue our resistance, we'll just have to be more creative".Unlike Mavka, Pavlo believes the war must end, even if it means losing his ability to return to Ukraine."Human life is of the greatest value… but there are certain conditions for a ceasefire and not everyone might agree with them as it raises a question, why have all those people died then during the past three years? Would they feel abandoned and betrayed?"Pavlo is wary of talking, even via an encrypted line, but adds: "I don't envy anyone involved in this decision-making process. It won't be simple, black and fears for Crimea's next generation who have grown up in an atmosphere of violence and, she says, copy their fathers who have returned from Russia's war against shows me her bandaged cat, and says a child on her street shot it with a rubber bullet."For them it was fun. These kids are not taught to build peace, they are taught to fight. It breaks my heart."

Ukraine brings back six children from Russian occupation
Ukraine brings back six children from Russian occupation

Yahoo

time02-05-2025

  • Yahoo

Ukraine brings back six children from Russian occupation

Ukraine has brought back six children from territories temporarily occupied by Russia. Among them are a brother and sister from a family that had previously tried to leave without success, as well as a girl whom the Russians had threatened to take from her mother. Source: Bring Kids Back UA initiative on Facebook Details: The initiative shared the stories of several children, including Mariia and her mother, who faced ongoing pressure from local Russian "administration" after the death of Mariia's father. "The family was forced to obtain Russian documents because they could not solve even basic everyday issues without them. The mother was also threatened that Mariia would be taken away if the girl did not attend a Russian school," Bring Kids Back stated. Eventually, the situation became so critical that the family had to seek help with evacuation. Also rescued were siblings Pavlo and Anna. The younger child had health problems but could not access the necessary medical care. The family had tried several times to leave the occupied territory on their own, but it was virtually impossible without Russian documents. "All the children and their families are now safe in Ukrainian-controlled territory. They are receiving assistance with rehabilitation and adapting to their new lives," the initiative concluded. Support Ukrainska Pravda on Patreon!

Kyiv says F-16 pilot killed in combat
Kyiv says F-16 pilot killed in combat

Al Arabiya

time12-04-2025

  • Politics
  • Al Arabiya

Kyiv says F-16 pilot killed in combat

A Ukrainian F-16 pilot was killed in combat, Kyiv said Saturday, in the second such incident since the delivery of the precious US-made fighter jets to Ukraine to help fight Russia's invasion. 'On 12 April 2025, 26-year-old Pavlo Ivanov died while flying an F-16 combat mission,' the Ukrainian army said in a statement. 'He was killed in action, defending his homeland from the invaders,' it added. The army did not give more details on the circumstances of how he died and said that a commission was working to establish 'all the circumstances of the tragedy.' 'Ukrainian pilots work to the maximum of their human and technical capabilities, risking their lives every time they perform combat missions. Pavlo was one of them!,' the army said. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy said Ivanov was killed in action and expressed condolences to his family. 'We are investigating all the circumstances,' he said on social media. Kyiv received the first deliveries of F-16s in summer last year, after spending two years pushing for them. In August 2024, Kyiv said that an F-16 had crashed while repelling a Russian missile attack, killing its pilot. That was until now the only loss of an F-16 announced by Kyiv. Last month, Zelenskyy announced the delivery of a fresh of batch of the jets, without giving an exact number.

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