It was the highway from Kharkiv to Moscow, winding through the forest, the royal road lined with restaurants and cafes. Today, the asphalt is torn to shreds, like the skin of someone who has been burned, furrowed by tanks and shells. A Ukrainian light armored vehicle sometimes jostles between the charred tanks. Then silence falls, nothing circulates. Since its reconquest by kyiv during the offensive of the last few weeks, this border strip of about ten kilometers was declared a “filtration zone” on September 11.
Apart from military units, no one can enter or leave: a territory caught in the trap to verify the identity of all those who are there and flush out Russian soldiers, saboteurs, but also identify Ukrainians suspected of collaboration . As in other liberated pockets of the region, a troubled era has just begun here: those of settling scores and changing sides, in the middle of decapitated villages, left to their own devices by war, populated by haggard inhabitants, often without a mayor, without a police force, without institutions.
No electricity for six months
Fighter of the territorial defense brigade 113, Andri, 50, could not hold back: he wants to see with his eyes what has become of Velyki Prokhody, his village, his house, his dogs. The village is in the middle of the filtration zone, checkpoint at the entrance, held by five heavily armed soldiers. From there, you can see the Russian hamlet, 6 kilometers across the border, white houses similar to those of Velyki Prokhody. Andri’s armored van takes Lenin Street. The names have not changed since the independence of Ukraine in 1991: the mayor was openly pro-Russian, half the village too. Businessman, engaged in pro-Ukrainian forces since the war in Donbass in 2014, Andri laughs that he was then “the only bad boy around”. “Few people supported me”he adds. During the occupation of Velyki Prokhody, he became the man to be shot, his head put on a price by the Russian military. Some estimated it at 10,000 dollars (10,000 euros), others at 50,000.
In the village, neighbors do not recognize him in combat gear: he has to take off his helmet to show who he is. ” You lost weight “, said one. And Lioubov, farmer, 75 years old: ” You’ve grown. » To tell the truth, there are few people left here, a hundred people out of the 2,500 in peacetime. All, or almost, have passed through Russia, the way to Ukraine being blocked by the front line. “They encouraged us to leave en masse”, says an employee. Moscow wanted propaganda images to justify the invasion of the country, a crowd throwing themselves into Russian arms to flee the “Ukrainian fascist power”. Special buses were chartered, some residents left their homes with their passports for any luggage. The richest were able to return to Ukraine, a long and expensive journey, via the Baltic countries. The others are still stuck in camps. The mayor decamped first, a few days before the war. Here we repeat: “He must have known what was coming and abandoned us. » The village has had no electricity for six months.
You have 67.14% of this article left to read. The following is for subscribers only.