The Story of Resilience and Unity Among the Residents of Pryputni Village

A typical rural street. Here stands a house, enveloped by trees and viburnum.

Let’s step inside. The courtyard charms the eye with red asters, delicate roses, and dahlias. There is mint, marigolds, and hypericum. Even periwinkle greens up the flower bed. Such a garden could only be maintained by a true hostess. Ludmyla Bunkova, who witnessed the occupation of Pryputni village in Chernihiv region, comes out to greet us.

The morning of February 25, 2022, is forever etched in Ludmyla Ilarionivna’s memory. Since that day, the life of the Bunkov family took a different turn.

“The scariest part was the night when shelling began. You lie down, and shells start flying over the house. They fly so low and loud that you think they will tear the roof off,” recalls Mrs. Ludmyla.

Holding our breath, we listened with interest to this kind woman, who, despite the circumstances, documented events in the occupied village through photos and videos.

“I would hide behind the barn or stand behind the corner of the house, set up the camera, and start filming… My husband argued because he was worried that they might notice,” Ludmyla winks enthusiastically.

A gray cat, regardless of us, carefully climbed onto the bench, then onto the backpack, settled comfortably, and began to doze. The owner smiled, looking at the cat, and continued to tell us how they moved to the cellar during shelling, slept in their clothes, how neighbors began to unite and help each other by sharing grains and bread, and how a neighbor Ivan charged everyone’s gadgets from his generator.

“I will remember this path through the village all my life”

As there was a concentration of Russian equipment in the forest near Ludmyla’s house, the Bunkov family moved to another empty house located in a safer area on the farm.

Ludmyla looked at her house, which she bought shortly before the war. The sun flooded the yard, and the walls of the house suddenly turned bright green in the sunlight. It was here, in this house, that she first met the Russians when she ran home.

“I hastily took things for my grandchildren, because when they were packing, they couldn’t take everything. I’ve heard the door creaked and  then there were cautious steps… I hid. I sat on a stool, and my whole life flashed before my eyes… I sat and thought, ‘Forgive me, God, I am a sinner. I regret not seeing my grandchildren.’ At that time, the sounds of gunfire outside were loud. Someone came into the corridor and asked, ‘Is anyone home?’ I remain silent. And then it dawned on me that I needed to respond. My son is a military man; he warned me that I need to answer. So I shouted, ‘Yes! Yes! Don’t shoot!’ A soldier entered the room and asked, ‘Are you alone?’ I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t squeeze anything out. And he went again: ‘Есть кто дома? А где ваша сємья? А пустиє дома здесь єсть?’ [Is anyone here? Where is your family? Are there any vacant houses here?]”

Mrs. Ludmyla fell silent. It felt like it was hard for her to talk, but she doesn’t show her emotions; she keeps everything to herself. She recalls how, after recovering, she first cried, and when she calmed down, she saw that there were four occupiers: not tall but sturdy, resembling Buryats.

“I answered something to them, but in my head, it was swarming: ‘I need to go… I need to go… My grandchildren are waiting for me in another part of the village…'” I confidently and resolutely went out of the house, explaining on the way to the Russian military that I have no time, that I need to go, that my grandchildren are waiting for me in another part of the village… The occupiers heard me. The machine gunner ordered me to take a piece of white fabric in my hands and not to run but walk slowly along the street. I found a bedsheet, hid two phones under my hands so that the Russians wouldn’t see them (I knew: if they find gadgets, they will take them; if they see photos, then that’s the end for me!), and I went… I walked and told myself, ‘Just don’t run, just don’t run…’ So I walked from one end to the other… Over time, details are forgotten, but I will remember this path through the village all my life,” Ludmyla confesses.

Nowadays, Ludmyla Ilarionivna is striving to regain a sense of normalcy. She speaks with warmth in her voice and a smile about her grandchildren, respectfully recalls her husband who recently passed away. Her grandson Maxim came out of the house, smiled warmly.

It’s time for us to leave… Yet, bidding farewell to this incredible woman, full of strength, endurance, and love, is something we’re reluctant to do…

We’re leaving, accompanied by the slightly bitter-sweet smell of marigolds.

The material was prepared by Iryna Reshetniak and Ihor Protsyk as part of the educational course “Truth Through Stories.”

The project is implemented by the Educational House of Human Rights in Chernihiv with the support of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Czech Republic as part of the local transformation project “Ukraine and Ukrainians: Modern Chronicles of Struggle for Freedom and Democracy.”

«We came to liberate you. You will receive a large pension», the occupiers told Mykola when they settled in his country house.

Mykola Luhina lives with his family in Chernihiv, but often visits his cabin in Zolotynka. A small remote village is located approximately 25 kilometers from the regional center. This man keeps an apiary here and grows his own food in a garden.

Before the full-scale invasion, he used to enjoy fishing and collecting mushrooms. He never goes to the forest or to the river anymore because of the signs warning about mining around the village.

«Grads» and tanks were placed near civilians’ houses

On March 3, 2022, columns of the Russian military entered Zolotynka. Some went to the nearby village of Yagidne, while others stayed here. Heavy weapons were placed right in locals yards, thus making civilians a human shield.

«They visited many yards, mine included. I ran out and shouted: where are you going? There was a pile of firewood in the yard at that time. And the soldier immediately headed to the barn», the man recalls.

Later, six Russians came to the pensioner. They searched all the rooms, the attic, the basement and demanded to heat water for their dinner.

«I told them I don’t have gas. Actually I had a bit, but it was running low. Then one of them took a machine gun and started shooting around the room. Bullets went through a bucket, nightstands, a pan, cans of flour. His commander was very angry when he found out about that. He told me to give him a mop and a rag to let him clean», says the pensioner.

They decided to stay at his house. Soldiers felt very confident using local’s belongings and let him stay at the house. So the owner had a chance to see and hear what they were doing.

Under the same roof with the enemy

Almost all the inhabitants of the village had to deal with the unwanted guests. First, Russians of Slavic appearance, and then Buryats and Tuvans. Slavs lived at Mykola’s.

«I have only one room that can be heated, but during that period, while the military was there, not a single door was closed. They were always in bulletproof vests. They couldn’t walk through the door properly. Ukrainian artillery was stationed not so far away, so when they heard «boom», they immediately ran to the cellar.»

Sometimes they even took potatoes from the cellar and also tried to steal spoons from the kitchen. The man laughs while recalling this incident. He says he persuaded them to return the cutlery, telling tales about Koncha-Zaspa and the golden toilets waiting for the Russians near Kyiv.

The pensioner lived with soldiers who did not drink alcohol at all. It was worse in other houses. People were even taken to the toilet at gunpoint. When Russians were drunk, they arranged shootings.

Two locals of Zolotynka were taken somewhere by force. Later, people found out that they were kept in a basement in Yagidne and then killed.

Between these terrible memories, the pensioner also recalls conversations with Russians. He asked why they came and what they wanted here. In response, he heard about liberation and high pensions.

«I told him, look, my grandchildren used to visit me, they were playing and I was happy. And you came and ruined me. It’s not liberation when you destroy everything.»

A few days later, the military left Mykola’s house and drove away from the village. The newcomers were no longer settled, even when a new column arrived in Zolotynka. Then, due to the lack of electricity, the man lived in obscurity for about a month.

«BM-21 Grads» and «BM-27 Uragan» were located not far from his house. He says that sometimes he and his neighbors were sitting in their homes as if in a movie theater: they watched heavy equipment fire shells at Chernihiv, then Kolychivka, and later they fired at Ivanivka.

«Come out, aimer!»

«That day, when it was already dusk, I saw an armored personnel carrier driving and they stopped near me. Viktor Ivanovich was being transported on it. When will he come back, «Not soon» – they said. He never returned. He was also taken to Yagidne. I was told that he was in the basement until he heard the shout: «Aimer, come out.» When our people entered the village, they found him and three others buried,» the pensioner recalls with sadness in his eyes.

Mykola Luhina’s story was recorded in Zolotynka, a year and a half after its de-occupation. The man continues to take care of his farm here. Other locals had returned back home. The village lives almost the same as before the occupation. The only reminders of this hell are mined fields, a burnt-down car, and locals whose stories will not be forgotten.

The material was prepared by Tetiana Pyhurska and Kateryna Trofymenko as part of the «Truth Through Stories» School.

The project is implemented by the Human Rights Education House in Chernihiv with the support of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Czech Republic as part of the local transformation project «Ukraine and Ukrainians: Modern Chronicles of the Fighting for Freedom and Democracy».