Ukrainian Great-Grandmother's Song of Hope Amidst War's Devastation
Mere miles from the brutal frontline, a Ukrainian great-grandmother once burst into song, her angelic folk tune filled with love—a poignant antidote to the war raging nearby. That moment, captured in a snow-covered Zaporizhzhia village about a year ago, has lingered in memory. With today marking four years since Russia's full-scale invasion, I returned to Ukraine earlier this month for the third time to report on the conflict, wondering what became of 83-year-old widow Nellya Lemishevska.
A Humble Home and a Heartfelt Gift
Nellya clearly didn't have much, yet in her modest home, she even offered me watermelon, a gesture of generosity amidst scarcity. She expressed fear then of the frontline moving closer—a fear that has since become reality. Mirror photographer Andy Stenning and I arrived in Ukraine earlier this month, traveling to Kharkiv, a frontline city less than 20 miles from Russia, enduring regular attacks. In harsh winter conditions, we journeyed far with charities across the wider oblast to witness how their work touches ordinary lives.
Kharkiv oblast, in north-east Ukraine, was partly occupied by Kremlin forces after Vladimir Putin's attack in late February 2022. However, in a fierce fightback later that year, Ukraine recaptured territory. We visited some of those liberated villages and cities, including snowy Hnylytsia Persha, where a displaced mother shared how she longs to return home, but war relentlessly chases her family away—this being their fourth village in as many years.
Sobering Reminders and Mass Graves
Elsewhere, just outside Izium, we made a sobering visit to a mass grave site. As many as 449 souls were buried there during Kremlin occupation in 2022. Though bodies were exhumed, the reminder of death was omnipresent, with wooden crosses marked by numbers—lives reduced to mere digits. Among those buried was a family killed in a Russian attack on an apartment in March of that year. Their smiling faces on a nearby memorial haunt me; the youngest, Olesia, was just five. What life would she have had? War stole that future.
Shoots of Recovery and Cultural Resilience
Yet, amidst the devastation, there are shoots of recovery and signs of hope for children. In nearby Izium, where roads have netting overhead to protect against drones, we toured a UNICEF-supported child-friendly hub. There, children engaged in art therapy, with one boy wearing a Spiderman top—Ukraine certainly needs its superheroes now. Eight-year-old Miron told me he found his best friends at the hub and dreams of becoming a dentist. I hope he can.
On another day, we watched a Snow White ballet performance at an underground theatre in Kharkiv. Before the show, an air alert sounded, but the performance went on, showcasing culture's resilience under dire conditions. After about a week in Kharkiv, we took the train to Kyiv, where I'm writing this. In a moving morning moment, some passengers stood in silent memory of the fallen—a small gesture capturing the country's immense heart.
Nellya's Flight to Safety
I first came to Ukraine two years ago for the Mirror, visiting Mykolaiv and Kherson oblast. Last year, I spent time in largely occupied Zaporizhzhia oblast, witnessing the brave work of British charity UK-Med, which provides health support to rural communities near the frontline. It was with them that I met Nellya last February. I'd heard she'd since left her village for Odesa, and last week, UK-Med finally reached her by phone after days of no electricity.
Nellya fled about five months ago, recounting, "Oh, everyone left the village. Everything was destroyed there. And we ran away like mice. Nothing left there. They came too close, started bombing. We couldn't stay there… And there's no way back." She explained, "My lovely son helped me to evacuate. Now I'm staying with him and my daughter-in-law… They do care about me, support me." She was overjoyed to hear I remembered her and the watermelon she gave me.
While I can't fathom what Nellya has endured, it's heartening to know she has found sanctuary with family. And I hope, against all odds, she still sings her folk tunes—a testament to hope amidst war's relentless tide.
