Ever since Russian troops occupied the Zaporizhia nuclear power plant in southern Ukraine, its condition has sparked international concern. Nikopol is only a few kilometers away. How do the people there deal with it?
“Please smile,” says Mykhailo Mavrodij as he enters the barricaded military district administration of Nikopol. “People want to know how you live under fire,” says the administration worker dryly. But the team in the boss’s anteroom spread a good mood anyway. “It’s supposed to be dangerous here? No, it’s not,” two women joke, and a colleague adds: “Don’t worry, she’s under the influence of medication.” Everybody is laughing.
You are not always so relaxed when an employee gets serious. When there was heavy shooting, they went out into the corridor. “We also have a cellar, but that’s only a relative place of protection and in an emergency it’s probably more of a shared grave.”
Shaded: territories occupied by Russia
Between constant shelling and nuclear danger
The city of Nikopol is located on the Dnipro in south-eastern Ukraine, and the river is the front line here. The six large blocks of the Zaporizhia nuclear power plant are just a few kilometers away on the bank directly opposite. The largest nuclear facility in Europe has been under Russian occupation for almost 17 months and the head of the district military administration, Yevhen Yevtushenko, is expecting a nuclear catastrophe at any time.
The nuclear power plant is a problem for all of Europe and a danger that would threaten everyone. It’s like a play, he gets a little sarcastic. The gun that appears in the first act is shot in the last act. “The international community, all of us, must drive the Russians out of the Zaporizhia nuclear plant. As long as they are there, the whole world is in danger.”
Only about half of the approximately 100,000 residents stayed in Nikopol. The city is constantly being shelled from the Russian-occupied bank on the opposite side. There is often an air and artillery alarm during the day as well. Sirens also often sound during the tour with Mavrodij. “Every day is a lottery,” he says, but all community, medical, and educational facilities functioned, albeit online. He points to a bus that is just stopping at a bus stop. “Life goes on, even during the war,” says Mavrodij.
One life to save thousands
Life in Nikopol is hanging by a thread, Artem Shuhyakov experiences that every day. Rescue the dead and injured from shelled houses, put out rocket fire, clear away debris. Comforting the desperate and not despairing himself at the same time, that is his grueling everyday life in the Ukrainian disaster service.
We see a lot of grief and maimed people, says Artem Zholyakov of the Ukrainian disaster service in Nikopol.
Bullet holes can also be seen on the outside walls of the emergency services, and a bullet-riddled Lada is in the inner courtyard. There, a large mural shows rescue workers putting out fires or in front of blackened landscapes. “One life to save thousands,” it reads. A lot weighs on our young shoulders, remarks the 28-year-old Zhuryakov seriously. After Russian attacks, he and his colleagues move out, even while the shelling is ongoing, they drive off in a hurry, because every minute counts.
“We see a lot of grief and a lot of mutilated people,” says Zhulyakov during the conversation in the shelter in front of a modest bunk bed. Many found their loved ones dead or limbless. That is very difficult, and the disaster service offers both relatives and its own employees psychological help. “If we are in good shape ourselves, people can rely on us.”
The Zaporizhia NPP physics lesson
A few blocks away, Headmistress Oksana Skrypnyk is standing in the empty yard of her abandoned school. She has been teaching for 27 years, but this almost ghostly calm in Lyceum number 4 is difficult to endure. However, anything but online lessons would be too dangerous, says the 57-year-old with long red hair.
The physics teacher also talks to her students about the disturbing Russian-occupied Zaporizhia nuclear power plant on the opposite bank. “We are in constant contact with the children and explain to them that we are near a nuclear power plant. We talk about all the risks they might face and sometimes we can reassure them with that.”
Children can adapt to the situation better than adults, she observes. But many are depressed and often jump up for fear of loud noises. Children from Nikopol living abroad are often very homesick. The school tries to provide psychological support for both parents and children and young people, maintains close contact and relies on team spirit.
Born in the basement during shelling
Meanwhile, in the basement of the children’s hospital in Nikopol, Wadik is waiting for another alarm to end. On one of the narrow beds in the shelter, the pale boy hides behind his mother Maria Shutova’s back. She is holding her tiny daughter Christina in her arms, who was born a few months ago in the basement of the Nikopol maternity hospital. “The little one has known what a cellar is since she was born,” says her mother quietly.
“They shoot to kill us,” is how the single mother describes what she and her children have to go through. The older daughter Ivanka also tells how they were shot at in the morning. “The windows shook because the shelling was so strong this morning. In my sleep I heard how we were being shot at and the covers pulled over my head. I was scared.”
Maria Shutowa with her son Wadik and the infant Christina in the shelter of the hospital. Doctors say the baby isn’t growing.
“I want to die in Ukraine”
She had heard loud explosions before, and once there was an impact in the house. Ivanka’s best friend lives in Germany and is sorely missed by the girl. But she doesn’t want to leave, says the twelve-year-old with the curly red hair and says a shocking sentence: “I want to die in the Ukraine.”
The family lives around 30 kilometers from Nikopol. Maria Shutova came to the hospital to be examined because of the baby, which has also been shot at. Everything is fine, she says and rocks little Christina in her arms. That’s not true, doctor Julia Andriivna whispers worriedly. Little Christina isn’t growing, she says then. “These are the circumstances, a mixture of everything. We do everything here to somehow improve the children’s lives, if you can even call it that.”
disturbed water supply since the dam collapse
Since the destruction of the Kakhovka dam in early June, the water supply has also been a problem in Nikopol, as important pumps have been flooded. Repairs are difficult because of Russian shelling, and people additionally have to make do with public water supplies.
Since the Russian attack, at least 50 people have been killed in Russian attacks in the Nikopol district. More than 230 were injured. Almost 3000 houses are damaged and almost 60 kindergartens, rehabilitation centers or schools. Lyceum number four has been completed so far, and school director Oksana Skrypnyk is determined to stay. She is afraid of Russian occupation, but if the whole city leaves there will be no one left to defend. “We have to do everything we can to ensure that people have a place to return to.”