Nikopol under “arta”: how libraries, volunteers and people of Nikopol survive under “zero”

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They could write books and screenplays or do literary festivals. But while the war is on, they often put it off and help their colleagues “on the ground” – they collect books, money and things and take them to libraries, museums and theaters damaged by the Russian occupiers on the front line. Read UP.Kultura in Telegram Such trips are organized by members of the Ukrainian PEN Center – part of the well-known global network of writers. They call such group trips supportive because they also support those who are under fire or have just left the occupation. And they also allow those who work in the rear to keep the focus of attention on the war. Writers from PEN have already visited the front-line Mykolaiv region, de-occupied Kharkiv region, Sumy region and Kherson region and have just returned from a trip to Dnipropetrovsk region. For UP.Zhyttia, its participant, essayist Maria Tytarenko, prepared a report from Nikopol – how almost “at zero” librarians and volunteers keep the city alive, save people, animals and their libraries. The library froze. “And it’s getting scarier every day” Artillery shelling in Nikopol has been going on non-stop since July 12 last year. Only 6 kilometers across the Dnipro River are the occupiers and captured Energodar. Every morning, the authorities report on the level of radiation in the city. Today, Nikopol resembles the ruined scenery of a war movie. But these are not scenery and not a movie. Most of the windows on the houses are boarded up with plywood, the streets near the dam itself are deserted – this is where most of the shots are fired. Walls of buildings and gates in holes from shells. Near the shore, Nikopol is like a numb limb clamped with a tourniquet. Life here hardly pulsates. Nikopol resembles the ruined scenery of a war movie. Photo: PEN Ukraine and Olena Stovba “Here in August, two artillery shells hit the wall,” Olena Stovba, director of the Nikopol city centralized library system, shows us the brick holes in the wall of the Central Children’s Library. From the ceiling of the room, broken suspension structures hang, wires and broken communications stick out of them, all the windows are broken, from the outside, on their ruins, here and there, fragments of pirate ships and other fairy-tale scenes were left. Mrs. Olena is looking for photos on her phone “before” the arrival, so that we can compare with what we see now. All around are dusty empty shelves of racks, abandoned children’s crafts, drawings, a colorful inscription on the wall “The World of Childhood”, dried flower pots. The “before” photo is truly impressive. Olena tells how well they were doing before the full-scale war: in 2016, they took part in a large GIZ grant program, bought equipment and furniture worth almost a million hryvnias for three libraries of the system. In 2019, the premises were also reconstructed with the support of GIZ. Currently, this premises of the children’s library is not functioning. And although the property remained intact, Mrs. Olena says that the risks of losing everything are very high: “And every day it becomes more and more scary.” Photo: PEN Ukraine and Olena Stovba We unload three boxes of books brought by PEN onto the table of the Central Library of Nikopol, one of its librarians carefully arranges them in piles. All the time, while we are talking to Mrs. Elena, she takes the book in her hands, one by one, unfolds it, strokes it and carefully turns it aside. Like a treasure. Then we descend into one of the city’s largest shelters under the library – an underground labyrinth with passages hung with blankets in the doorways. In each of the “rooms” there are sleeping places for the night, the mattresses are covered with blankets, and someone’s belongings are on the chairs. Most of the shelling is at night, so some families spend the night here. Yes, the storage of books turns into a storage of people at night. Shelter. Photo: PEN Ukraine and Olena Stovba Those who keep the city alive. “We play Russian roulette every day” The further from the dam, the more the city comes alive. Natural markets with open-air shops on the ground, open cafes and bakeries. It looks like normal life, if it were not for the closed chipboard windows, the distant hum of volleys and landings, and the absence of children on the streets and playgrounds. Kindergartens and schools in Nikopol do not work, most of the townspeople have taken their children to safer nearby villages, where artillery shells do not reach, or to other cities inland or abroad. According to local authorities, 70% of residents left the city. Photo: PEN Ukraine and Olena Stovba As of March 1, 14 people were killed and 94 wounded in Nikopol by shelling, but these numbers are growing every day. Destroyed houses are covered with film – every time after shelling, utility workers promptly remove the debris, maintaining the city at least in relative order. Early in the morning, we drove into the city to the sound of a warning about artillery fire on our mobiles. It resembles an alarm system on a car, and from time to time it is superimposed on a notification of threats of missile fire. We still don’t know that this morning at 06:20 Russian troops hit the private sector of Nikopol with barrel artillery, destroying houses, enterprises and gas supply lines. If they had known, they would have put on helmets and bulletproof vests taken just in case. “We play Russian roulette every day,” says Margarita Gorbanenko, founder of the “Children of Nikopol” Charitable Foundation. “You never know where it will land this time.” Margarita greeted us with hugs and coffee with canapés in her bright and spacious office, to which the foundation moved two months before the full-scale war. Then the fund helps seriously ill children, and from February 24, 2022, it actively works to help soldiers of the Armed Forces. Donations are being collected from the USA, Germany, Israel, Poland, Italy, quadcopters, thermal imagers, walkie-talkies, medicine, food, fabrics are being purchased… During our conversation, from time to time her colleague, the project manager, Maria Melnikova quietly informs us: “Volleyball” . The townspeople have already trained their ears: they distinguish who is shooting and from which direction. We ask if the occupiers are shooting at any specific targets in the city, to which Maria and Margarita shake their heads in denial. “The locals no longer hide during the day – they usually fire most of the time at night,” Maria says, adding: “Although I don’t even slip out of bed on the floor at night like I used to.” Maria and her fifteen-year-old son live near the coastline. While she is at work, the son is alone at home. I ask her to count on her cell phone how many times a day the warning about artillery fire sounds. Scrolls through yesterday’s tape. Counts for a long time. – “44 times”. Coastline in Nikopol. Photo: PEN Ukraine and Olena Stovba However, despite the constant threat and “Russian roulette”, the fund works in an intensified mode: it helps IDPs and seriously ill adults, buys expensive medicines, opens new collections. Mrs. Margarita gives us yellow and blue charm ribbons woven by the children who stayed in Nikopol. The sun from the window falls on her beautiful flower necklace and on the light square, forming a halo above her head. When we hug goodbye, I feel him. Orphanage for dogs. A chance for love Our last point of visit in the city is the Nikopol animal shelter “A chance for life”, which was founded by the owner of a private legal practice, Olena Voshun. When the writer Kateryna Mikhalitsyna comes out of our bus and sees Elena, they run up to each other, hug like family, and stand like that for an eternity. Although they are seeing each other live for the first time in their lives. The thing is that once Kateryna read on Facebook a cry of despair from Elena to save her dogs. It was just when the intense shelling began. “Katya called me then, and we realized that we are soul mates!” – says Olena. There are currently 250 dogs in the shelter. Elena affectionately calls all her wards “kids”. He carries them to us in his arms – crippled, sick, beaten, contused, tells about them, sometimes kissing them on the face. “Actually, there are thousands of them on the streets of the city,” Olena sighs. “Before the war, there were up to 2,000 homeless animals, and now there are twice or three times more. People leave them on the streets when they leave their homes. And the domestic ones are immediately visible: they hunker down, huddle, in they have traces of collars…” Elena shows us pieces of metal from shells. They were removed from a shepherd named Jessie. The owners of the dog left, but she remained to guard the yard under the supervision of a neighbor. On arrival, the house was completely destroyed, and Jessie was seriously injured – her spine was severed near the tail. After a long course of treatment and rehabilitation, Jessie, unfortunately, died. Another dog, ten-year-old Naida, was luckier: she made a full recovery after being cut in two places in the abdomen by shrapnel. Naida lives in an enterprise that has been shelled several times (by the time I write this text, the treated Naida will have returned). Elena with a dog at the shelter. Photo: PEN Ukraine and Olena Stovba Olena says that there are many volunteers who feed dogs on the streets, help with meetings on social networks, but she is practically alone in the shelter. Since autumn, 40 dogs and 40 cats have been sterilized at the shelter every month with the money of the Swiss charity NetAp. However, the shelter needs help – primarily feed (because the wards eat 2 tons per month), as well as money for the treatment of an endless string of sick, injured and abandoned animals. Elena’s posts on her Facebook page bring tears to my eyes. Like every story of dogs barking at us from the shelter’s numbered enclosures. We are standing in the middle of this dog town, around there is a thick smell of spring mixed with dog food, there is a loud barking sound, the Dnieper is shining sunny in the spring southern blue. We have to move on. But Nikopol holds his hand tightly and does not let go. This indomitable and amazing Nikopol, whose name is Nika-Victory. PS The word is our weapon. At the next checkpoint, we, “Penevians”, as usual, are asked who we are, where we are coming from and where we are going, and our documents are checked. The muzzle of a tank protrudes from the dugout on the side of the road in the tall, dry grass. This time they ask to open the trunk. Boxes with books, bulletproof vests and helmets are examined. – Do writers have weapons? – No, we don’t have it. We say goodbye, we wish each other victory. Andriy Bondar adds after catching up: – The word is our weapon. Read also: My Kherson. How war cures superiority to a small homeland

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