As of the morning of July 3, 30 people were known to have been killed in a massive Russian attack. Search and rescue operations are ongoing, and some people remain out of contact and are considered missing. Ninety-two city residents were injured, with 56 of them hospitalized. Animals at the Kyiv Zoo were also affected. Educational institutions were damaged.
Half of the building is simply destroyed. On the other side, laundry sways in the wind, as if nothing had happened. Rescue workers are operating against the backdrop of interiors laid bare by destruction. Hanging kitchen utensils, stickers on a refrigerator, soft pink wallpaper — countless small things collected over the years, things that made up someone’s world, cozy and organic, were turned into ruins in an instant. White dust hangs in the air and covers everything around. Some municipal workers are wearing protective masks. Shattered glass has been carefully swept into piles. Ambulances are parked nearby. Most of the surrounding buildings were also damaged, though less fatally.
There were fatalities in the building. Among the ruins, an improvised memorial has appeared, where people bring toys, flowers, cigarettes, and small flags.
Some people stand silently, watching the apocalyptic scene. Others move briskly around, carrying out broken belongings or boarding up shattered windows with wood. Some are waiting in lines at social service tents, trying to understand their next legal steps. Among them is Yuliia. She says nothing is left of her apartment, but, fortunately, she and her family were not injured because they were in a shelter. What to do next remains unclear: she walks around with documents in her hands, following the crowd of other victims from one line to another. She says people are not being allowed into the building yet, so she does not even know which of her neighbors are being commemorated at the small memorial.
As usual, volunteers have come to help — Brave to Rebuild, World Central Kitchen, the Samaritan Union of Ukraine, and others.
“We help people clean up premises after strikes, when there is glass or various belongings scattered around. We help board up windows with OSB panels and plastic sheeting,” says Viktoriia, coordinator of the NGO Brave to Rebuild. Here, people are also offered a place to charge their devices, as well as water, energy drinks, food, and consultations on the next steps for receiving compensation and documenting damages.
“We usually work for a day or two, sometimes three — depending on how difficult the situation is and how many buildings have been damaged or destroyed,” the coordinator explains. “People are under stress, but the adrenaline keeps them going. At least those who have come to us.”
Generators are humming — there is no electricity in the district. Their noise blends with the sound of a saw cutting OSB panels and the work of heavy machinery. Among the damaged belongings is a cage. It is unknown who lived in it and whether they survived.
Nearby, in one of the damaged buildings, a coffee shop is open. People come in to take a break. Asked whether the premises were damaged, the girls behind the counter say that, fortunately, they were not — only a mirror was broken.
“The girls just didn’t see it,” the owner objects. He adds that the blast tore off the door and the sink. They repaired everything quickly, because they had to keep working. According to him, people mostly come here to charge their devices, and one man even brought an EcoFlow portable power station. Of course, they did not turn him away, even though the coffee shop itself is running on a generator. “Because we have a generator, and they don’t,” the owner explains simply.
On the ruins of yet another small world, recovery work continues. Because there are simply no other options.
