A villager in eastern Ukraine rages after the Russian occupation
Nadezhda Sereda feels she is being punished for living during the Russian occupation of her village in eastern Ukraine, after Kiev forces took it over.
The retired worker and dozens of his neighbors are without electricity or running water and their facades have been torn apart by artillery fire since Russian troops breached the Ukrainian defense zone last May and captured the Stari Caravanserai in the Donetsk region.
Three months later, the recapture of this small town and several other towns in the region caused even more problems for Nadezhda Sereda.
“Our leaders began to divide us between those who remained in the occupation, whom they didn’t consider human, and those who left and who, allegedly, really love Ukraine,” she says desperately.
– “Angels” –
The 66-year-old woman came out on the road to welcome the volunteer doctors, who had to cross a pontoon and a bumpy road before reaching her home on the edge of the village.
“They’re angels,” she enthuses of this privately funded team. “They’re the only ones coming here.”

Residents of Stari Caravan lack gas for cooking and rely on radio and very limited mobile phone service for information.
Resentment is strong.
Sereda’s neighbor Valentina Tchoumakova said, “When the Russians came, it was not like we committed treason or talked to them about anything.” “We stayed at home quietly.”
– social division –
Sereda’s concerns reflect wider social divisions in the poorer areas where the threat is rife, such as Stari Karavan and the village of Brusivka, a little further away.

Nestled in the wilderness, these areas are cut off from the rest of Ukrainian territory under government control by a winding river over which bridges have been destroyed by the war.
At the other end of the forest, the Russian forces have regrouped and are trying to break into the forest.
Other Russian brigades advanced north towards Kopiansk in the Kharkiv region.
The resurgence of the Russian threat is one of the reasons why a volunteer doctor, Mykhailo Dobrichman, takes his mobile clinic to these isolated lands.
His volunteer group, Base UA, has organized evacuations from some of the hottest places in Ukraine.
“But today we meet very few people who want to leave,” laments the 33-year-old.
“On the contrary, more and more people are coming back.”
– “The most serious cases” –

The isolation of the Stary Caravan and the growing threat from Russia may explain why Ukraine’s limited resources are reaching Sereda and its neighbors.
Dr. Dobrichman tries to be understanding and no longer objects to the elderly villagers’ refusal to leave their homes and vegetable gardens.
But he is not so patient with young families with children. “These are the most serious cases,” he says.
He adds, “When we see the children, we come back several times to persuade the families to leave. We try to get help from the police.”
“These children are our future.”
– “Our Administration Despises Us” –
Nadezhda Sereda is furious that someone might think she is spying for the Russians.
“Our administration despises us,” she says. “Everyone has their own reasons for wanting to stay,” she adds. “I just want to be treated like a human being. Is that too much to ask?”
In Brusivka, Mykola Bruce, who lives in similar circumstances, literally worships Ukraine and its soldiers.
Her village is named after her family and her roots are as strong as Nadezhda’s.
“Guys, the soldiers here, they help us all the time,” said the 69-year-old from among small groups of soldiers stationed out of sight in the fields.
He says without sarcasm, “The soldiers take turns looking after me. They check whether I am still alive or not.”
But even he has difficulty remembering the last visit of any member of the civil administration to these areas.
“We have soldiers,” he shouts, shrugging his shoulders.
“They come at any time of the day. They bring me food, borscht (Ukrainian soup), they help me with everything.”