'Bomb Moscow then!' How Zaporizhzhia lives under constant bombardment and what people say about Russia

For more than a week now, Zaporizhzhia, a city located 30 kilometers from the front, has been shelled by Russian guided aerial bombs. Russian troops have increased the range of their bombs and can now reach this regional center. Almost no day goes by without a guided aerial bomb striking a residential building, school, or hospital.

At the same time, the city is home to about 800,000 people, some of whom came from the hot spots - the frontline and already occupied territories. Zaporizhzhia is trying to live in its rhythm, with buildings damaged by Russian shelling being quickly repaired, and people spending the night in shelters.

New reality of Zaporizhzhia

Arkadii Hryhorovych stands outside his destroyed house and tries to find the right words. Five minutes ago, he was sitting in the yard of the summer kitchen, melancholy drinking tea, placing the cup on a saucer on a nearby chair. First, we saw the wreckage of the house, then a small extension behind it, and Arkadii Hryhorovych next to it. His yard was covered with grapes and boxes of things, and a cage with a small artificial bird hanging over the door. We asked the man to tell us about what had happened to the house, and now he was standing in front of us and trying not to cry. On September 25, a Russian air bomb hit his house.

— I was in the temporary hut, and my wife was in the house. My wife was in the house, the house started here. Everything up to the wall was on the ground. My wife was covered in rubble, a rockfall hit her, her back was bruised, and she bruised her head. An ambulance came and told her to see a doctor. But she didn't want to.

What used to be a house was a wall with pieces of wallpaper and a corner. The windows are covered with plywood, and there is a burnt-out car near the yard. It can't be repaired either, only for spare parts. Arkadii is afraid that he will not receive compensation because the house is very old, and the documents for it date back to the fifties. We promise to help and tell him that the Russian army continues to fight civilians. The man gets angry and clenches his hands into fists. “I don't know, they're morons... Criminals”.

— And Putin says that Zaporizhzhia is a Russian city. What would you say to him?

— Bomb Moscow then! It is also a Russian city!

Arkadii Hryhorovych holds his ground, but at some point, he waves his hand and his lips begin to tremble. In this situation, it's hard to say anything, and the banal comes to mind - the main thing is that they survived. Hearing this, the man tries to smile and straighten his back.

Photo: RBC-Ukraine

— I agree. And everyone says this, of course. Life is a God-given value, and it is a crime to betray it. But... It is what it is.

We hug the man and ask him to hold on, and he promises that he will. Arkadii Hryhorovych has no other choice but to hold on. Both he and we know this.

***

Zaporizhzhia is a city with wide avenues, bridges, the Dnipro River, and Khortytsia between its two banks, and today it is very warm and crowded. If you don't know that there is a frontline 30 kilometers away and that the city is bombarded with anti-aircraft guns at night, it seems that life here is going on at a normal and peaceful pace. People sit in summer cafes, walk in parks with their children, and eat ice cream - the southeastern autumn allows it.

The war manifests itself here in an everyday way as if it has also adjusted to the rhythm of the city: here you buy a takeaway coffee, and next to it, utility workers are raking up the shards of the windows of a shopping center that was hit by an explosive wave. You turn off the avenue into a courtyard and see a house with a hole in it - it was hit by a Russian guided air bomb.

One such house stands in a densely built-up yard right next to a park. We arrived in the morning when a guided aerial bomb was dropped on it. In the third year of Russia's full-scale war, the picture is familiar, but just as terrifying: a sooty yard, car frames, a piece of wood, and a house. It's always the scariest because people have just been there. Their traces are visible in the pieces of the apartment that now hang over the yellow excavator-someone's wall clock, a shelf with plates that miraculously survived, wallpaper painted by children. The intimate, domestic things you see when you are invited to visit suddenly appear on public display.

Photo: RBC-Ukraine

Fortunately, no one was killed in this house. The last woman, who could not be found, was pulled out of the rubble an hour before we arrived there, she was in a bad condition, but alive. Search and rescue operations are over, and now they are clearing the rubble, cutting down trees, and clearing the area. Ivan Fedorov, the head of Zaporizhzhia Regional Military Administration, who arrived at the scene, tells us about the city's daily life.

***

— Last week, on Monday, for the first time in the history of Zaporizhzhia, Russia struck the city was guided aerial bombs. During this time, Russia conducted over 30 strikes on the residential area of Zaporizhzhia with guided aerial bombs. As of today, we have recorded 300 damaged houses, and several dozen were destroyed. This is how the week of Russian shelling with the guided aerial bombs passed.

The reason why Russian troops decided to bomb Zaporizhzhia with aerial bombs for some reason is trivial - they were able to reach it. Some time ago, the Russians increased the distance from which they could fire bombs and realized that they could reach Zaporizhzhia. And if they can reach it, it means they have to hit it.

***

Around 3 a.m., a siren starts sounding in the city. We go down to the shelter under the house. This is a whole bomb shelter that was built in the middle of the last century. Its corridors, tunnels, and rooms seem to mirror the house above ground and go in different directions, growing into a large underground hive.

The shelter smells damp, and garlands of cobwebs hang overhead. In some rooms, people are sleeping - we sit on plastic chairs and hear them sniffling quietly. Tonight they chose to sleep and not be guided by the alarm.

From time to time, locals come into the shelter. Two of them, a man and a woman, sit down next to us. The woman is holding a folder with documents, and the man is holding a canvas bag with food. There is almost no signal here, but sometimes we manage to update our messengers.

— What does the news say? Guided aerial bombs flying?

— Yes, in the neighborhood. Bastards.

Last night the Russian bombs hit the region, and the city could sleep. In a day, the Russians would strike Zaporizhzhia in the afternoon - again in residential areas.

Photo: RBC-Ukraine

***

It is difficult to find a large number of destroyed houses in Zaporizhzhia - they are being rebuilt very quickly. The man we're traveling with points out the renovated buildings - they are dotted with spots of new facades and snow-white windows.

— We are rebuilding to make people feel more comfortable because we don't want to live among the rubble. This is the war.

But some houses are still waiting for their turn. Liudmila Ivanivna lives in one of them. She agrees to show me her apartment, which was damaged by the air raid. The woman opens the door, nods at the collapsed plaster in the entrance, and tells us about the fate of the house.

— The question is being decided whether it is possible to rebuild this house or whether it needs to be demolished. It's about time.

Inside, the apartment looks as if someone took it and shook it with all their might for a long time. The bathroom and kitchen have broken tiles and the places where the windows used to be are covered with plywood, so the apartment is dark at night, even though it's sunny outside. There is not a single piece of glass or mirror left in the house.

— Do you use the bathroom?

— What am I going to use if there is no gas? I'm already dirty as hell, there's nowhere to wash. They said they don't know when the gas will be back on.

The kitchen, with its green tiles and artificial flowers twisted around the heating pipes, looks battered. Liudmyla Ivanivna wants to show everything at once, so she is a little fussy. She was going to bed when the house rattled when the plane arrived. The apartment exploded with glass - she was miraculously unharmed.

Photo: RBC-Ukraine

— Everything was falling down, I couldn't understand! I never even thought of such a thing! I quickly got up and rolled out of bed, and there were already pieces of glass, I couldn't find my shoes, I was walking barefoot! I came here and sat down. But what good did it do me to sit here? Everything is still falling here.

She leads us into the living room, where there is a sideboard with an orphaned frame. Liudmyla Ivanivna must be very fond of her sideboard, and showing its battered side, she puts her hand on it as if trying to heal it.

— One of my friends told me to take it to the trash, and I said, "Hello, Oleksii, but what am I gonna do without it?"

Two other houses that were damaged by the Russian guided aerial bombs look like a small reconstruction of the famous Odesa courtyards. These are two-story houses with shared balconies that run along a continuous corridor. Residents, mostly elderly, go out on these balconies and talk to each other.

We approached a couple of women who had seen us a few meters away but didn't make eye contact. One is sitting on the balcony, leaning on a cane, and the other is standing next to her. They are happy to talk and tell us about their troubles, mainly the war.

Photo: RBC-Ukraine

— I can't even go down the stairs with my cane, I'm lying on the bed. God willing.

— At least we sleep at home at night, but people's windows are broken, there is nothing.

When asked, “Has it gotten worse?” the women shrug their shoulders and say, “Well, Russia didn't hit yesterday.” All in all, in the new reality for Zaporizhzhia, one day without explosions is good. While we are talking, a woman with a folder walks to the next entrance and the old ladies quickly lose interest in us. “Tamara, they came to check the meters!”

The old lady with the cane stays with us and we ask our questions.

— Putin says that Zaporizhzhia is a Russian city, what would you tell him?

— Kid, I am 92 years old. I can show him my middle finger.