The village chief in Chernihiv region tells a story about a month without light, the strength of the community, and what it means to be a hero.

In the morning, it’s warm and calm on the street as my colleagues and I arrive in the village of Pryputni. A man on a bicycle approaches us and introduces himself as Anatoliy Mykolaiovych. Anatoliy is a polite and friendly man who immediately invites us to the village administration. Based on his conversations with local residents, we understand that he is the village chief, well-informed about everything that’s happening. During the occupation, he used to ride his bicycle around the village daily to ensure the well-being of the locals. The village chief explains that we’ve stopped at the same crossroads used by the occupiers as they advanced towards Kyiv, pointing out the affected individuals and buildings. He inquires about everyone’s well-being and what kind of assistance is required.

We introduce ourselves and mention that we are volunteers from Belarus, and we do not support either the occupiers or the dictators. Anatoliy Mykolaiovych agrees to be interviewed.

What were you doing before the full-scale invasion on February 24, 2022?

On February 23, 2022, I was called to the municipal office, where they informed me about what to do in case a war breaks out. We agreed that starting from March 1, I would assume the duties of the village chief.

Could you have left the village?

No, this is the village where I live with my family. I couldn’t leave them or the village.

On February 24, we woke up to the sound of explosions and shelling. The first columns passed through our village. They had good equipment and behaved non-aggressively. They waved to us and allowed us to take pictures and shoot videos. It felt like they were confident that they were welcomed here.

Our village was only used as a transit point for the columns. The occupiers would come to us only when they got lost or needed water. At that time, 350 people lived in the village.

From March 1, the village was cut off from electricity. Local residents rallied together and supported each other as best they could. After a week, their bread ran out, and the local grocery store had only enough supplies for two weeks.

We see how difficult it is for our hero to recall these events, so we pause. During this time, the village chief receives a phone call, and we hear him ask someone what kind of assistance is needed. We understand that he has just helped someone from the villagers.

How did you manage to provide the village with everything it needed?

The village was blocked by the occupiers. They used the paved road, so we had to use dirt and forest paths. These paths went through swamps and were covered in snow. That’s how we made our way to the pontoon bridge. These roads were only suitable for tractors and special vehicles; regular cars couldn’t pass.

A local entrepreneur contacted us through the municipal office. He could deliver 10 bags of flour for two villages, and we divided the seven bags we received among our residents in one-liter jars – 2.5 jars per family. We transported two bags through the forest to a neighboring village, where the residents gave us oil. We distributed half a liter of oil to each family. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough for everyone. After some time, the same entrepreneur helped us with bread and brought 200 loaves, which amounted to half a loaf per family. The village we were supposed to take the bread from was 12 kilometers away.

How did the villagers behave while the village was under occupation?

There were shelling and bombardments every day. The military noticed that local residents were observing the movement of their equipment, so they started shooting in the air to prevent people from going outside and witnessing what was happening around.

People in the village came together and started helping each other more, putting aside any previous quarrels and disputes. We conducted daily rounds of the village to check on everyone’s well-being. One night, they started shelling a house. They fired armor-piercing and regular bullets. After the attack, we went to check if anyone was hurt, and the homeowner responded. It turned out that the Russian soldiers had been looking for their deserters. Afterward, we relocated the homeowner and her daughter to another house.

How did the occupiers behave?

In the early days, the occupiers shot two of our young men. We found one with a gunshot wound to the head, and the other’s remains consisted of just bones. During the village’s occupation, the occupiers killed seven residents. The last one was killed as we were leaving. We noticed that, after a month, the occupiers became very nervous and started shooting randomly to keep people from going outside. The Ukrainian Armed Forces’ artillery was hitting their positions accurately.

And what about the local residents?

While our village was blocked and there was no way to move between villages, people from neighboring villages gathered to establish logistics. I stayed in the village for a month and couldn’t leave the village because I couldn’t leave the villagers alone, feeling responsible for them. Even when I had to go to the municipal office, I understood that I would be more helpful in the village. My family, my wife, daughter, and son, stayed with me throughout this time.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t defend ourselves, so we did everything we could to help and protect each other and gather information about the enemy’s movements on our land. During this time, we didn’t notice anyone from our village assisting the occupiers or expressing support for the “Russian world.” The church in our village has been Ukrainian for a long time, but there are some parishioners of the Moscow Patriarchate. Even they didn’t show themselves as supporters of the “Russian world.”

So, you are a true hero…

I don’t consider myself a hero—I did everything I could. I organized the construction of roads, personally drove special vehicles to avoid risking people’s lives when the roads were shelled. We succeeded in providing people with essential supplies. We moved the municipal office to a safer location and provided it with electricity when there was no power for a month. My main concern is that people have everything they need, and I’m pleased that people believe in me and offer their support. The villagers collected 100,000 hryvnias for a fence to make our village even more beautiful. We’ve been fortunate with mild winter weather, and it’s been a fruitful year.

We thank Anatoliy Mykolaiovych for the interview, and we continue to talk with him for a long time after the interview ends. The village chief shows us a diary he kept during the occupation, sharing stories about individual villagers and their heroic acts.

But this is a completely different story. Here, every person has their own unique story. Each one did and continues to do everything they can.

And each one is a hero.

Prepared by Alyona Zharkovych and Maksym Dmytrakov within the framework of the “Truth through Stories” School.

Translation from Belorussian: Darya Danova.

This 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 Struggle for Freedom and Democracy.”

The resident of the village of Priputni in Chernihiv region tells a heartbreaking story of civilians killed by the Russians.

Priputni is a small village in Chernihiv region. The Russian military was first seen here on February 25, 2022, and they stayed in the village until the end of March 2022, causing the most damage as they retreated. As you walk through the village, it’s hard not to notice the visible scars of war: burnt houses, destroyed buildings, and the traces of military vehicles on the asphalt.

But what the naked eye can see is only the tip of the iceberg. To see more, you must be willing to speak and listen.

As we stroll through Priputni, we meet a woman in her fifties, dressed in a blue floral robe and a warm sweatshirt. She wears a headscarf. The woman is returning from her garden, and by her side is a friendly dog with a wolf-like face named Aira. Aira approaches us, and her owner lovingly says, “Don’t bother them, dear, they’re strangers.”

We begin to talk to Mrs. N. (we don’t mention her full name for safety reasons), explaining who we are and where we’re from, and most importantly, what we want to write about. As soon as she hears the word “Russians,” tears start to well up in her eyes.

“My son was killed by the Russians. They shot him…”

That’s when we learn that Mrs. N. had two sons: one was 24 and the other 19 years old. The older one was killed by the Russian military, and he was a civilian. Warning: the following text contains sensitive material.

“He was friends with another guy, well, more like an acquaintance because the guy was much older. But they were close. He had tractors, so my son used to help him with the tractors and everything. Well, they were killed together when they were going to work in Krupychpole. The Russians shot them at the beginning of Krupychpole. They just burned that guy; he was burnt alive, there was nothing left, just charcoal, burnt to the bone… and my son was found with him, at least he still had his body, even though he was badly burnt.”

This is not an isolated case of Russians killing civilians. Unfortunately, among the local residents, there have been seven casualties.

“They went into other people’s houses, checked homes, and where no one lived, where the houses were empty because people had left, they lived there… They took our food. My neighbor lives over there; they took her butter, bread, all the oils, everything they could find, they took it all. Let them take it, I said. But why did they kill people? Like my son, for what? Innocent people. They shot our locals in Krupychpole. A couple was going to a funeral in Vyshnivka, so on their way there, near Verbychky, just as you head to Vyshnivka, they were also shot. And one man went… You see, the house over there already burned down, so he went there to put out the fire, and they killed him near the village council…”

Mrs. N. confesses that there was a time when the residents of Priputni buried their fellow villagers not in the cemetery but near the church. The hard decision was based on simple safety considerations: neither the priest nor the local residents wanted to risk their lives by going to the cemetery.

Mrs. N. also recalls an incident when an elderly woman was blown up by a landmine.

“There was also a woman who blew herself up on a landmine, on the bridge. We told her not to go, not to go at night… but she didn’t listen and went anyway. Well, we heard a big explosion.”

This woman doesn’t complain about life. She agrees to the publication of her story only on the condition of anonymity because she fears that the Russians might return and seek revenge for this truth. She says life goes on somehow, and they neither receive nor expect any help. She says, “Who cares about us here?”

The only thing that truly worries her is that she can’t afford to put up a tombstone for her son; there’s just a simple cross. Friends console her, saying that heaven has accepted him anyway. But it seems that a proper burial of her beloved son means a lot to Mrs. N.

As she talks about what she’s been through, she doesn’t cry. She stays strong. Sometimes, Aira, the mischievous little pup, seems to sense that her owner’s pain is becoming unbearable and that’s when she does something cute and silly: chasing her tail or trying to nibble on our sneakers. And the smile returns to the woman’s face.

And the sun shines brightly, just like it does during Indian summer.

And life goes on in the village of Priputni in Chernihiv region.

The material was prepared by Kristina But as part of the «Truth Through Stories» School.

The project is implemented by the Education Human Rights House (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».