I flew to Tbilisi on February 4. My superiors from Canada were very worried about the troops on the border. None of our people believed that something would happen. The authorities offered a temporary relocation and for me it was just a “mini-vacation until the troops leave and the noise subsides.” The noise only intensified. None of the loved ones left or flew away anymore. I’m alone, and I’ve never felt so alone in my life. I’ve never felt so much in my life that I don’t have a home. There is no one around. There is someone to talk to, there is someone to drink with, but there is no one who would bring at least a drop of meaning to my everyday life.

My name is Natalia, I recently turned 44. Before the war, I taught courses “PC User. Internet”. I am the person who will teach you how to use a mouse and teach you to be afraid of technology. Like many, I did not believe that Russia would attack my country, although I suspected that the escalation of the situation would not end well. On day X I got up early, I was going to go to the clinic with my middle daughter (I have four children of 21, 18, 16, and 14 years old). The first thing I did after waking up was turn on my phone and… “freaking out” is the most decent word. The day before, my husband said to withdraw money from the card, because they are going to introduce martial law. For once, I did as

Do you have a favorite place in the city? A cozy courtyard at your grandmother’s apartment? A bench on the riverbank, where you liked to think about life? Imagine that this place no longer exists. As well as the store where you bought a TV, the park where you walked with your child, the office with your favorite job, a delicious cheese shop. Imagine that you look at a million endless photos of your city, recognize almost every street, and realize that it no longer exists. And this one isn’t there either. And that one. This is how I feel looking at the photos of Kharkiv.

My name is Nastya. I’m a teacher. I live in the city of Energodar, Zaporizhzhia region. There are three in our family: me, my husband, and a cat. I was “lucky”. I didn’t learn about the war because I heard explosions. A friend wrote to me at 7 in the morning. I went to official sources. It turned out that it was. I was “lucky” again. We have something to eat, we are healthy and we are warm. When the siren sounds, we run for cover. My grandparents live in the village. They’re hiding in the basement. It’s cold and damp there. I can’t bear to think that if the entrance to the basement collapses, they will be trapped. The roof of their house was damaged after the shelling, the windows flew out. But at least their house has survived