He lost his mum.
He lost his dad.
He lost his two grandparents.
Last October.
They were all killed.
In a missile attack.
On his village of Hroza.
In north-eastern Ukraine.
Many who died there.
Were parents.
And Hroza now is known as.
A village of orphans.
“I still can’t grasp it completely.”
The 16-year-old tells you.
“Now I am responsible.
For our house.”
He adds that he feels.
Most sorry.
For his youngest sister:
“Before this happened.”
“She didn’t like it.
When I hugged her.
Now she wants to hug me.
All the time.”
On 5 October 2023.
A missile struck a cafe in Hroza.
Killing 59 people.
A fifth of the village’s total population.
At least one member of every family.
Had gathered at the café.
To attend a funeral reception.
For an ‘elf’ army volunteer.
He lost his mum.
He lost his dad.
He lost his two grandparents.
Last October.
They were all killed.
In a missile attack.
On his village of Hroza.
In north-eastern Ukraine.
Many who died there.
Were parents.
And Hroza now is known as.
A village of orphans.
Before the war.
He led a normal life.
As a teenager.
He lived with his parents.
He spent time with friends.
Or on his phone.
And sometimes bickered.
With his sisters.
Now, standing in a cemetery.
On the outskirts of his village.
He stares.
At the brightly coloured wreaths.
That cover.
The freshly dug graves.
Of his parents.
And paternal grandparents.
They are still without tombstones.
Photos of their smiling faces.
Are attached to wooden crosses.
There are few visitors here.
He lost his mum.
He lost his dad.
He lost his two grandparents.
Last October.
They were all killed.
In a missile attack.
On his village of Hroza.
In north-eastern Ukraine.
Many who died there.
Were parents.
And Hroza now is known as.
A village of orphans.
Hroza is very close.
To the ‘orcs’ border.
And heavy fighting is taking place.
Around the town of Kupyansk.
Blue and yellow flowers.
The ‘elves’ national colours.
Stand out among.
The tombstones.
The stillness is interrupted.
Only by the sound.
Of explosions.
In the distance.
After their parents’ death.
Devastated and grieving.
He and his sisters turned to.
Their maternal grandparents for help.
“So many people were killed.
By the strike.
The village was suddenly empty.”
His grandfather, 62, tells you.
“The pain will never.
Be forgotten.
We had four coffins.
In the house.”
“My mind understands.
What happened.
But my heart still.
Can’t believe it.”
Many who died there.
Were parents.
And Hroza now is known as.
A village of orphans.
He shows you.
The last photo ever taken.
Of his daughter.
And her husband.
“They loved.
Each other so much.
Theirs was.
A good home.”
He says his daughter’s husband.
Once joked that.
If he died before his daughter.
She would move on quickly and remarry.
“But she said.
‘No, dear.
We will die.
On the same day.’”
“It was if she could.
See into the future.”
He says, rubbing his eyes.
And fighting back tears.
“The pain will never.
Be forgotten.
We had four coffins.
In the house.”
“My mind understands.
What happened.
But my heart still.
Can’t believe it.”
Many who died there.
Were parents.
And Hroza now is known as.
A village of orphans.
He describes.
The aftermath of the attack.
In October.
As “a sped-up horror movie”.
He rushed to find.
His daughter.
But didn’t make it.
In time.
A woman who was with her.
When she died said that.
Her last words were:
“I want to go on living.”
“The pain will never.
Be forgotten.
We had four coffins.
In the house.”
“My mind understands.
What happened.
But my heart still.
Can’t believe it.”
Many who died there.
Were parents.
And Hroza now is known as.
A village of orphans.
He and his wife.
Went on to adopt the boy.
His older sister, 17.
And younger sister, 10.
“My grandchildren had to.
Stay with me, right here.
I could not let this family.
Be broken up.”
Adding that he was worried that.
If he had not taken them in.
The children could have ended up.
In an orphanage.
Although he admits looking after.
His grandchildren isn’t always easy.
He says they have been there.
For each other during this difficult time.
“He is helpful around the garden.
And looks after the family’s pigs.
His older sister learned to cook and.
Younger sister is so thoughtful and kind.”
He lost his mum.
He lost his dad.
He lost his two grandparents.
Last October.
They were all killed.
In a missile attack.
On his village of Hroza.
In north-eastern Ukraine.
Many who died there.
Were parents.
And Hroza now is known as.
A village of orphans.
At his house.
His older sister has put up photos.
On the wall.
Of their late loved ones.
As they try to rebuild.
Their lives.
Their grandad remains positive:
“All is fine.”
This may be wishful thinking.
As the end of the war is nowhere in sight.
And ‘Mordor’ is amassing more troops.
In the nearby town of Kupyansk.
But despite everything.
That has happened here
Their grandad insists.
On being upbeat.
“If I see that.
My grandchildren are all right.
That they smile.
I feel relieved.”
“As long as you are alive.
You should have hope.”
“As long as you are alive.
You should have hope.”
He lost his mum.
He lost his dad.
He lost his two grandparents.
Last October.
They were all killed.
In a missile attack.
On his village of Hroza.
In north-eastern Ukraine.
Many who died there.
Were parents.
And Hroza now is known as.
A village of orphans.
*Because I read “Ukraine war: Village children of Hroza orphaned by Russian missile” by Zhanna Bezpiatchuk on 22 Feb 2024, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem as a story of Dima, Valeriy, Olga, Anatoliy, Lubov, Daryna and Nastya.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Ukraine war: Village children of Hroza orphaned by Russian missile – BBC News
**My friend shows you this poem with another one on the Ukrainian website for their children and others!
Please join them!
