‘Now there’s just emptiness’

Residents of Dnipro’s 118 Victory Embankment apartment complex recall the airstrike that killed dozens of their neighbors

On the afternoon of January 14, Russian troops subjected Ukraine to yet another round of shelling. One of the missiles they fired, a five-ton Kh-22, hit a nine-story apartment building on Dnipro’s Victory Embankment, completely destroying 63 apartments and damaging more than 200. The strike killed at least 46 people, six of whom were children, and injured 81, while nine people were still unaccounted for as of the authorities’ last public report in late January. While many of the survivors found new homes after the incident, others have continued living in the building, where they can still see the wreckage of neighboring apartments from their windows. Meduza traveled to Dnipro to speak to residents of Building No. 118 about what it’s like to live in the aftermath of such a devastating attack.

The strike

I was sleeping at the moment [of impact]. But I could hear something that sounded like a heavy rainstorm. I open my eyes and see glass everywhere, the door had fallen off, and the chandelier flying. I didn’t hear anything [of the explosion]. Only glass falling. So I woke up, found a flashlight, then my pants. I started to look for my smartphone, and it had fallen under the radiator. Everything was turned upside down.

Volodymyr Melnichuk, a building resident

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I woke up on the floor in a puddle of blood. I don’t really remember how it happened. It seemed like I was screaming, but maybe I was whispering. It seemed like I didn’t hear my husband, [but then] my husband responded. I slowly went along the wall to [where he was], and there was a window lying on him. And the door from between the rooms was lying on him, too.

Alyona, a building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

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At the moment of the explosion, I was tying the laces on my left boot. I was in the most protected spot in the apartment, according to the two walls rule: the hallway next to the front door. I don’t have a single scratch or bruise. This all happened on January 14, and the 17th was my birthday. So it was evidently a birthday present for me.

Volodymyr Georgievich, building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

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I was sitting at the window and watching my seven-year-old son play [outside with his friends]. There were three of them: my son, his comrade Timur, and a girl named Miroslava. Then I came to inside the window frame on the floor of my room.

The first thought I had was that my child was out there. At the moment of the explosion, they were in the very epicenter, right next to the arch and the section where the missile struck. I don’t remember running down the steps from the fifth story. I ran out from the building and saw my son and Timur: they had survived. According to my son, they were covered in rocks, but they crawled out.

Anastasia, 34 years old, lives in the building with her parents

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At the moment [of the blast], we still hadn’t taken down our Christmas tree. And our Christmas tree that year was so gorgeous! It took up half the room. It was knocked over by the [blast] wave, and my grandson was more upset by the fact that the Christmas tree fell over. We told him that the bad old man had set off firecrackers. What else can you tell a child? He’s been talking about the Christmas tree ever since: the tree fell over, the old man is bad.

Irina, building resident

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There was a scary black cloud [of dust]. Not even smoke. And at first, we couldn’t even see [the debris] because of it. It didn’t go away for several days.

Lidia Nikulina, 77 years old, building resident

During the explosion, I was lying down and watching — can you believe this? — [the Soviet war film] “One, Two, Soldiers Were Going.” And then suddenly the ripped-off doors hit my legs. I went out, and the entrance [to the neighboring section of the apartment] is gone. And everything’s on fire, and my neighbor is covered in blood.

Igor, building resident

The window frame came flying out, I was covered in glass, and chunks of concrete flew towards the apartment. My head got a bit cut. I didn’t even hear the explosion, everything just suddenly fell apart: a bunch of rocks, glass. There were clouds of smoke, dust, nothing was visible. And then the fire started. I looked out the window, where there was supposed to be more building, but I didn’t see it. Instead of that part of the building, I saw the embankment.

It got really awful when people started screaming. Screams, crying, moans… That was the scariest part.

Evgeny, building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

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I decided to go into the kitchen to cook something for Orthodox New Year. And I was just walking away from the window when everything started flying, and I was covered in blood, bleeding. I found a towel and wrapped up [my injuries]. All the windows were broken and all the doors were broken off. I looked at the street [and saw] women, children, everybody screaming. The cars were all damaged. People were saying to come outside, because there could be another explosion. I found some clothes, got dressed, and went outside. Phones weren’t working — it was impossible to call anyone.

Andriy (name changed at his request), building resident

After the blast

I was bleeding badly — my face was cut up. But I was too ashamed to go to the hospital, because there were people there who had been cut into pieces… If anybody [in that state] was still alive, they needed help more than I did. So I just asked some [people in a] car for a first-aid kit. I pulled a hat over my forehead, and the bleeding stopped.

Evgeny, building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

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My husband and I started to go outside. I was holding our dog in one arm and my coat in the other. Either police officers or emergency responders asked me, “Do you need help?” One girl [an emergency worker] said, “Let me give you a ride.” And we told her, “No, there are still three bedridden people up there, you’d better go help them instead.”

Alyona, a building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

I found my neighbor’s photo album. We went outside and looked around, and the album was lying there. And inside, there was a photo of the woman from the neighboring section of the apartment. Her son died [in the missile strike]. We brought her the album, and it brought her to tears. I never would have thought a person could be so happy to see a photo album.

Evgeny, building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

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I have two cats. When I returned to my apartment four or five hours after the blast to get some things, I saw that the terrified cats had climbed under the sofa. They were stressed just like we were. I took them with me, and they lived with me in my daughter’s house [until we returned home].

Volodymyr Georgievich, building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

People stayed the night in kindergartens, in schools; entire tourist camps offered accommodations for people. As far as I know, nobody stayed the night in the apartment. People were offering help to absolute strangers.

My neighbors told some acquaintances in Odesa that [my] mom has cancer and that she had lost her home. These total strangers from Odesa sent her $2,500. Then we got a call from another apartment — they’d sent us 20,000 hryvnias (about $542). They said, ‘We’re your neighbors, and we heard you need help.”

Vitaly (name changed at his request), building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

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Hard times bring people together. People were united by their shared grief. Neighbors met each other for the first time and started helping one another. I went out to the courtyard literally a minute and a half after the blast. Some neighbors and I helped bring an injured person down from his apartment. Neighbors from the surviving part of the building offered to give me a place to live, since my apartment was destroyed.

Volodymyr Georgievich, building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

Building No. 118

My brother and I have lived here together since [the building was first built]. It’s a very convenient location: the Dnipro and a playground are right there. Residents have taken good care of the building. They’ve [planted] trees and flowers. It was a beautiful place; we had good lives here.

Petro, a resident of the section of the building that was adjacent to the one hit by the missile

I grew up here. I was brought straight from the maternity hospital to this apartment. Even if I don’t know all of the victims [personally], they were my neighbors. One of the people who died was a 17-year-old boy, and I recognized the features of his mother’s face [from pictures in the news]. We grew up together.

Vitaly (name changed at his request), a resident of the section of the building that was adjacent to the one hit by the missile

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I’ve lived in this apartment my entire life. The entire building feels like home. When I was small, we used to have pretend wars, running all over the apartment and the courtyard outside. We’re hoping that if they leave our section of the building here [and restore it], we can come back and live here.

Serhiy (name changed at his request), a resident of the section of the building that was adjacent to the one hit by the missile

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An old woman I knew lived on the eighth story. And she’s gone, the poor woman.

The fact that our windows were blown out is nothing compared to the losses of those who died: wives, children… Or the mother who survived, but her daughter, her son-in-law, and her grandsons all died… She was in the kitchen, and they were in the living room [when the missile struck]. And all six people except for her [were killed].

Alexandra (name changed at her request), a resident of the building

At the moment of the blast, my son was playing with Miroslava and Timur. Miroslava is in critical condition. She’s currently confined to a hospital bed, and she’s had three operations on her legs. She’ll have to go through physical therapy. And Timur is left without any parents. They were home, in the corner apartment of the neighboring part of the building, [where the missile landed].

Anastasia, 34 years old, lives in the building with her parents

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I didn’t go to my neighbors’ funerals. It was very difficult to return [to the building]. I can’t convey the feeling — it was like I died along with these people. It’s very sad and painful.

Petro, a resident of the section of the building that was adjacent to the one hit by the missile

Today

Every time I go to the courtyard and see that enormous hole, I realize that dozens of people died. And there are still people who are unaccounted for, and that means that in the blast, their bodies just exploded into molecules. They were just incinerated, and there aren’t even remains.

Volodymyr Georgievich, building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

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I didn’t use to get scared at home. Now, when I lie down to go to sleep, my heart starts pounding.

Volodymyr Melnichuk, a building resident

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One woman from the part of the building that was half destroyed didn’t speak for a long time [after the missile strike]. Everyone reacts differently. I have moments, too. Right now, I’m more or less okay, but I’m still constantly on edge.

Irina, building resident

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I’m scared to sleep now. I no longer sleep when there’s a siren, because I never know when [the Russian military’s next] ugly scrap metal rocket is going to hit.

Yelena, building resident

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I tried to hold my [injured] arm and back in such a way that would prevent my grandson from seeing it. My back is covered in bruises from the window frame that make it look like somebody raked it over. But he ended up seeing it: “Granny, who hit you?!” I told him I fell down. Why damage a child’s psyche?

Irina, building resident

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I’ve lived here for 18 years. I’m not comfortable here anymore. I’ve started to get scared whenever the [air raid] sirens go off. To be honest, I’m afraid to live here now. Maybe another missile will come, maybe it won’t. I go to another part of the city, where some friends live, and I sleep there at night. Then I come back in the morning. I don’t sleep well. I wake up several times each night for no clear reason.

Vasily (name changed at his request), building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

I have a lot of extreme anxiety now. All the time, it seems like a missile is about to strike right now and right here, where we live. I have a fear of them finishing us off: both me and my parents. But I’m trying to fight this [fear]. There’s free psychological support for survivors, and I’m working with a psychologist.

Sveta, building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

I saw all of that smoke and heard all of those human screams; I saw them driving all over the city to get people out from under the ruins. But despite all this, I don’t want to move away.

There aren’t many people living in our building right now, because they literally just recently installed [new] windows, and before that, everything was wrapped in plastic and boarded up. But a lot of people are saying they don’t want to move to other buildings. Everyone’s slowly starting to poke around and get their apartments in order again.

Irina, building resident

Every time I walk by my apartment building and see the devastation, it’s like the first time. The only difference is that now I’ve stopped sobbing. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the fact that there’s nothing left in the place where those apartments used to be. There’s just emptiness.

Sveta, building resident who lived near the blast’s epicenter

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Story by Meduza, reporting from Dnipro

Abridged translation by Sam Breazeale