March 11th 2024
Amidst the bustling streets and apparent normalcy of Kyiv, Yuriy shares a harrowing tale from the heart of a city under siege. He notices a small, yet profound emblem of the war's devastating impact: a child's UNICEF backpack. This symbol of loss and distress, previously seen in the refugee camps of Iraq, now marks the innocent lives upturned by conflict in Ukraine. Yuriy offers a poignant reminder of the unnoticed battles and unseen victims caught in the crossfire of war.
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TRANSCRIPT: (Podbean app users can enjoy closed captions)
It is March 11.
Right now I'm stationed in Kyiv. I'll tell you more about what I'm doing later. Today's conversation isn't about we, despite constant rocket shelling, it's almost a peaceful city. Shops are open, cars are stuck in traffic for hours, and the subway is crowded. Compared to the east like kiv, where even during rush hour, the subway has plenty of empty seats and most businesses more complicated when selling hot dogs have long closed. Kyiv looks like a fairytale city.
But that's a false illusion. The city is full of ruins from shelling, strong fortifications are being built around it around the clock in case of a new Russian advance on the capital. Patrols walk with streets and air raid sirens blare daily. But for me, the main sign that war is very close to Kyiv is not all this but a simple school backpack on a little child. Let me explain.
I arrived in Kyiv, walked down the street to the headquarters, and accidentally noticed and ate year old boy with a UNICEF blue backpack. Most of you fortunately don't know what it is, but for me it's a sign of terrible distress. UNICEF is a United Nation foundation that helps children. I don't really know how well or poorly they do it, but they exist. I've never spoken to employees of this foundation, but I've seen this back packs before it was in Iraq and the heat of the war against ISIS in a huge refugee camp.
In the middle of wet camp stood a huge tent in the army. They set up filled barracks like that, but there it was, a school. Before the classes started, hundreds of children from the entire camp ran to the stand and many of them had these blue backpacks. One of the school teachers then told me that these backpacks are given to walls who have nothing left, to children whose parents have lost everything and have no savings even to buy a bag, a couple of pencils and notebooks for their child. And also to those who have been left without parents altogether.
I look at the children with these backpacks and almost cried ordinary girls and boys who, because of some savages from ISIS, were left without a home, without their usual environments, often even without parents. And now the same children with the same backpacks are in my country, in my city. Because the savages have come to us too.
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