Last month, we published a cover story documenting the first two weeks of the war in Ukraine, entirely from the perspectives of Ukrainians under 30. Here, we check back in with four of the people we spoke with
Anastasiia Mokhina and her husband, Vyacheslav. Photo: Mikhail Palinchak In March, New York published a cover story documenting the first two weeks of the war in Ukraine, entirely from the perspectives of Ukrainians under 30. The 30 contributors to the War Diaries included Anastasiia Mokhina, 24, who appeared on the cover in fatigues and holding a rifle. Her boyfriend had proposed to her two weeks before Russia’s invasion; hours after the first bombs fell, they were both at an enlistment office.
We did not ask for any days off because we understand that while we are resting, someone has to work harder. We didn’t think about the honeymoon, and it will likely not happen. Yes, the war will end, and we will definitely win, but then we need to rebuild everything destroyed, to restore normal life not only for ourselves but for millions of people.
Not that much has changed since March. But the language question is more acute now. Some establishments put up signs saying you should switch to speaking Ukrainian, and sometimes they’re very rude — it’s not a request. That really bothers me. If I walk into a place and see a sign like that, I get into an argument with the management, the servers, asking them to take down those signs. Because that way, they’re not Ukrainianizing people but scaring them away.
I have this syndrome: survivor’s guilt. When I saw the first photos from Bucha and Irpin and I read all these reports of shooting people, raping kids in front of their parents’ eyes, I just couldn’t process it. I understand it’s true, but it’s very difficult to fully integrate it. I was talking to my friend about how I wondered if I should join the Territorial Defense. But these thoughts are more emotional than logical. I know I wouldn’t be any good there.
She said that the first week that Ivankiv was occupied had been difficult. Russian troops allowed them to walk on the streets, but they didn’t allow anybody to use a car, and they tried to find people who were in the military. They went to houses and apartments looking for people with tattoos with Ukrainian symbols. In the city, there was no electricity, no water — nothing. But my mother gathered people in her neighborhood to work together.