“O Oysters, come and walk with us!”
The Walrus did beseech.
“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.”
‘Elves’ residents say.
The way ‘Mordor’ wants the world.
To see Mariupol is.
Very different from the reality.
“What they’re showing.
On ‘orcs’ TV.
Are fairy tales.
For fools.”
“Most of Mariupol still.
Lies in ruins.”
Says an ‘elf’ living in.
‘Orcs’-occupied Mariupol.
“They are repairing.
The facades of the buildings.
On the main streets.
Where they bring cameras to shoot.”
“But around the corner.
There is rubble and emptiness.
Many people still live.
In half-destroyed apartments.”
“Many people still live.
In half-destroyed apartments.
With their walls.
Barely standing.”
The eldest Oyster looked at him.
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head –
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
It’s been just over.
Three years since.
Three years since.
Mariupol was taken.
Mariupol was taken.
By ‘orcs’ forces.
After a brutal siege and.
Indiscriminate bombardment.
– a key moment.
In the early months.
Of ‘orcs’ full-scale invasion.
Of Ukraine.
Thousands were killed.
And the UN estimated.
90% of residential buildings.
Were damaged or destroyed.
But four young oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat –
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet.
In recent months.
Videos and reels from.
Several pro-‘orcs’ influencers.
Have been painting.
A picture of.
A glossy city.
Where damaged structures.
Have been repaired.
A picture of.
A glossy city.
Where life has gone back.
To normal.
But you have spoken to.
More than half a dozen people.
– some still living.
In Mariupol.
Others who escaped after.
Spending time under occupation –
To piece together.
A real picture.
To piece together.
A real picture.
Of what life is like.
In the city.
Four other oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more –
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
“There are a lot of lies.
Floating around.”
Says a 66-year-old.
Who escaped from Mariupol.
Late last year.
And now lives in.
Ukraine’s Ternopil.
“We had a beautiful city.”
“But now it’s diseased.
I wouldn’t say ‘orcs’.
Authorities have repaired.
A lot of things.”
“There’s a central square.
– only the buildings there.
Have been reconstructed.
And there are also empty spaces.”
“Where buildings stood.
They cleared the debris.
But they didn’t even separate.
Out the dead bodies.”
“They were just loaded on.
To trucks with the rubble.
And carried out.
Of the city.”
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
Mariupol is also facing.
Severe water shortages.
Mariupol is also facing.
Severe water shortages.
“Water flows.
For a day or two.
Then it doesn’t come.
For three days.”
“We keep buckets.
And cans of water.
At home.
The colour of the water.”
“The colour of the water.
Is so yellow that.
Even after boiling it.
It’s scary to drink it.”
Says another resident.
Some have even said.
The water looks like.
“Coca cola”.
“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes – and ships – and sealing-wax –
Of cabbages – and kings –
And why the sea is boiling hot –
And whether pigs have wings.”
A man, who calls himself.
Mariupol’s deputy mayor.
In exile, says.
The Siverskyi Donets–Donbas Canal.
Which supplied water.
To the city.
Was damaged.
During the fighting.
“Only one reservoir.
Was left supplying water.
To Mariupol.
For the current population.”
“That would’ve lasted for.
About a year and a half.
Since occupation has lasted.
Longer than that.”
“It means there is.
No drinking water at all.”
“It means there is.
No drinking water at all.”
“The water people are using.
Doesn’t even meet.
The minimum drinking.
Water standard.”
“But wait a bit,” the Oysters cried,
“Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!”
“No hurry!” said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
There are frequent power cuts.
Food is expensive.
And medicines are scarce.
Residents tell you.
“Basic medicines are.
Not available.
Diabetics struggle to get.
Insulin on time.”
“And it is crazy expensive.”
Says another resident.
“Basic medicines are.
Not available.”
“A loaf of bread,” the Walrus said,
“Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed –
Now if you’re ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.”
Despite the hardships.
The most difficult part.
Of living in the city.
Residents say.
Is watching what.
‘Elves’ children are.
Being taught at school.
Being taught at school.
A boy studied.
At a university.
In Mariupol.
For a year.
After it was occupied.
Now he’s escaped to Dnipro.
After it was occupied.
Now he’s escaped to Dnipro.
“They are teaching children.
False information.
And propaganda.
For example.”
“School textbooks state that.
Donetsk, Luhansk.
Kharkiv, Zaporizhzhia.
Kherson, Odesa, Crimea.”
“And even.
Dnipropetrovsk regions.
Are all already.
Part of ‘Mordor’.”
“O Oysters, come and walk with us!”
The Walrus did beseech.
“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.”
He also described.
Special lessons called.
“Conversations about.
Important Things”.
In which students are taught.
About how ‘Mordor’ liberated.
About how ‘Mordor’ liberated.
The ‘orcs’ language-speaking population.
Of these regions.
From Nazis in 2022.
“Teachers who refuse.
To take these lessons.”
“Are intimidated or fired.
It’s like they are reprogramming.
The minds of our children.”
Says the Mariupol resident.
The eldest Oyster looked at him.
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head –
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
During World War Two Victory Day.
Celebrations in May.
Images from Mariupol’s.
Central square showed.
Children and adults.
Dressed up in military costumes.
Participating in.
Parades and performances.
– Soviet-era traditions.
That Ukraine had increasingly.
Shunned are now being imposed.
In occupied territories.
Mariupol was bathed.
In the colours of.
The ‘orcs’ flag.
– red, blue and white.
But four young oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat –
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet.
But some ‘elves’ are waging.
A secret resistance.
A secret resistance.
Against ‘Mordor’.
And in the dead of the night.
They spray paint.
‘Elves’ blue and yellow colours.
On walls.
And also paste leaflets.
With messages like.
“Liberate Mariupol”.
And “Mariupol is Ukraine”.
“O Oysters, come and walk with us!”
The Walrus did beseech.
“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.”
The two residents are.
Both members of.
Resistance groups.
As was the boy.
As was the boy.
When he lived in the city.
“The messages are meant.
As moral support.”
“For our people.
To let them know that.
The resistance is alive.”
Says the another one.
Their main objective is.
Collecting intelligence.
For the ‘elves’ military.
For the ‘elves’ military.
“I document information about.
‘Orcs’ military movements.
I analyse where they are.
Transporting weapons.”
“How many soldiers.
Are entering and.
Leaving the city.
And what equipment.”
“And what equipment.
Is being repaired.
In our industrial areas.
I take photos secretly.
“And keep them hidden.
Until I can transmit them.
To ‘elves’ intelligence.
Through secure channels.”
The eldest Oyster looked at him.
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head –
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
Occasionally.
The resistance groups.
Also try to sabotage.
Civil or military operations.
On at least two occasions.
The railway line.
Into Mariupol.
Was disrupted.
Because the signalling box.
Was set on fire.
By activists.
It’s risky work.
The boy said he was.
Forced to leave when.
He realised that.
He had been exposed.
“Perhaps a neighbour.
Snitched on me.
But once when I was.
At a store buying bread.”
“But once when I was.
At a store buying bread.
I saw a soldier.
Showing my photo.”
“Showing my photo.
To the cashier.
Asking if they knew.
Who the person was.”
He left immediately.
Slipping past.
Mariupol’s checkposts.
And then travelling through.
Numerous cities in ‘Mordor’.
And through Belarus.
Before entering Ukraine.
From the north.
“O Oysters, come and walk with us!”
The Walrus did beseech.
“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.”
For those still.
In the city.
Each day is.
A challenge.
“Every day you delete.
Your messages because.
Your phone can be checked.
At checkpoints.”
“You’re afraid to call.
Your friends in Ukraine.
In case your phone is.
Being tapped.”
Says the another one.
“A person from.
A neighbouring house.
Was arrested.”
“Right off the street.
Because someone reported.
That he was allegedly.
Passing information.”
“To the ‘elves’ military.
Your life is like a movie.
– a constant tension.
Fear, distrust.”
The eldest Oyster looked at him.
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head –
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
As talks continue.
Between Ukraine and ‘Mordor’.
There have been suggestions.
From within and outside Ukraine.
That it would need.
To concede land.
In exchange for.
A peace deal.
“Giving away territory.
For a ‘deal with ‘Mordor’’.”
“Giving away territory.
For a ‘deal with ‘Mordor’’.”
“Will be a betrayal.
Dozens risk their lives.
Every day to pass.
Information to Ukraine.”
“Not so that some diplomat.
In a suit will sign.
A paper that will.
‘Hand us over’.”
Says the resident.
“We don’t want.
‘Peace at any cost’.
We want liberation.”
“O Oysters,” said the Carpenter.
“You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?”
But answer came there none –
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d eaten every one.’
*Because I read “’Mariupol is diseased’: Residents deny Russian claims occupied city returning to normal” by Yogita Limaye on 30 Jun 2025, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem, led by ‘THROUGH the LOOKING-GLASS’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Ukraine war: Mariupol residents deny Russian stories about the city
