A total of 4,480 faces stare into the cold air – photographs of soldiers and women who have died on the frontline of the conflict in mud, trenches and abandoned villages that could be linked to 1917.
People stare intently at the faces—sons and daughters being stolen—as traffic passes through the mud of winter. There are piles of snow on the walls, and the golden domes of the monastery are shining in the mild winter sun.
About 15,000 people have lost their lives in Europe’s only active conflict, which began when Russian forces annexed Crimea and pro-Russian separatists occupied an area in eastern Ukraine in 2014.
The streets of Kiev do not look like a city ready for war. With shops and businesses open as usual, the train station isn’t full of anxious moms-to-be with suitcases packed in haste. Casinos and bars are thriving.
But beneath the surface, there is a quiet defiance bordering on fatalism. As President Volodymyr Zelensky never gets tired of saying: We have already been living with the Russian threat for eight years. There’s no reason to panic.
Zelensky’s phlegmatic outlook is echoed in the streets. Yuri, a 42-year-old policeman, dressed in the traditional “shpka” and holding a briefcase on his way home from work, says he’s not scared in the slightest.
“I see all the soldiers. I’m not scared, and I’m ready to defend – in fact, not just me, everyone is ready to defend and defend their country.” As he walks, he shrugs his shoulders, “but anything can happen at this point.”
At dusk, an orange hue from street lights bathes the center of Kiev. We meet 19-year-old Darina Yakovenko, who is draped in full with a warm scarf covering her blond hair. She is studying physics at Savchenko National University.
Incidentally, we stand just a short distance from “European Square”.
I asked her which route she would take instead of Ukraine, one that looked west, toward the European Union and potentially NATO, or one that returned it to Russia’s orbit.
Darina is soft-spoken and shy, but her thoughts are clear. “We are still pulling the weight of the Soviet Union that we have left behind, and we want to get rid of it. I want our freedom. This is a country with great potential.”
Darina recounts the stories her grandmother told her about the 2014 invasion. Stories of shootings, bombings and being forced to flee the eastern city of Donetsk, now held by rebels.
She believes the situation is dire. Yet that flicker of anger flares up again.
“If the fighting starts, I will also join the army because this is my country, these are my people.”
Ukrainians have changed a lot since 2014, especially the younger generation. Visa-free travel in the EU has opened up new horizons. At Kiev Borispil airport, backpackers leave for Paris and the Costa del Sol. Social media is alive; lively debate. The idea of a suffocating, intolerant state is a curse.
And it is not just the youth in Kiev who are ready to face enormous odds to face the Russians.
In an underground crossing below Maidan Square, the site of the massive protests that ousted the pro-Russian government in 2014, Tatiana runs a souvenir shop selling strange and wonderful Ukrainian souvenirs: samovars, fridge magnets and traditional Ukrainian clothing called vyshyvanka. goes.
Tatiana is in her mid-40s. When asked if she is ready for war, she says, “I am ready to fight. I have got my suitcase, my money and if I have to, I will join a militia. Trust the President and our military – they’ll protect us.”
There is certainly no sense of panic here, people are not shocked by the drums of war and social media videos of Russian tanks being driven towards the borders of Ukraine.
Senior citizen Irina is in a hurry for a social event. As she passes by, she says: “It’s all a show. And I don’t want to be a part of a show. The only show I want to watch is the concert I’m late for – so that’s what you need.” Tell me what you need to know!”
Alexander, 55, has echoed the sentiment. He’s drinking an evening beer outside a typical shop found in much of the former Soviet Union, with Neon Lights reporting its opening hours: 24/7. “Of course it can happen, but I’m not afraid… what’s there to be afraid of?”
When asked what would happen to him in the war, he replied with a smile, “It is better to drink beer now because if there is a war, we will not drink much,” and takes another sip.
It is possible that the Eight Years’ War may have made the people insensitive. Perhaps there is genuine belief in Kiev that Putin is bluffing and does not want to risk a heated war or the subsequent punishment. Perhaps people think that Ukraine’s military, which fell into disrepair in 2014, can now fight a real battle given the billions of dollars invested. But they are not under the illusion that NATO will come to their rescue if the balloon goes up.
As the sun goes down and the wind bites with the chill, the road away from the field freezes and becomes treacherous.
A Ukrainian soldier’s poster flutters above the sidewalk. It reads “Heroes Among Us.”
The sentiment here seems to be a fitting reflection of the mindset: it will not be easy for Putin to bring back part of Ukraine, or the whole of Ukraine, under Moscow’s umbrella.