I told my husband, "Please, stay alive!", but I lost him and friends in a second
The 29-year-old Anastasiya Savielyeva is a manicurist. She has always dreamt of her own office. She wanted to acquire one, but having conferred with her family, a decision was made to build it. They demolished an old barn in their yard and erected a new building from scratch. Her husband, Roman, did everything on his own in his spare time. The office was to have been completed by March 8. Anastasia was dreaming of meeting her clients in a beautiful new office. It never came to pass, though, because of war.
In her monologue for Svoi Anastasia told us about the days she spent in Mariupol, about a long-awaited present for the Women’s Day, the last words spoken to her husband and his tragic demise.
I besought and implored him to leave the city. He was against it
On February 24 everyone was panicking. I, however, continued working. Instead of six clients, only four of them showed up. We already heard the sound of distant explosions. I was worried but at the same time hoping that nothing bad would happen. I told everyone something like ‚Forget about war! My new office is almost ready!’. On that day Roman was painting walls inside.
On February 25 almost all of my clients cancelled their appointments. Only one woman came. While doing her nails, I would flinch every time I heard the sound of Grad (self-propelled 122 mm multiple rocket launcher designed in the Soviet Union - translator’s note). I spent my spare time on that day helping my husband paint the walls.
Until the very last moment I was hoping it would all be over. At about 3 pm two districts of the city were cut off from electricity. As a result of shelling, a transformer was damaged in a settlement called Sartana. After one or two days the whole city was disconnected from electricity.
Anastasiya and Roman Savielyevs.
The Savielyevs.
On February 28 the heating system stopped functioning. We went to bed but then took a decision to go to our friends. At that moment the whole city was cut off from electricity. It was cold both outside and at people’s homes. On March 1 we came back home and the temperature inside was 51. Roman fetched a backup generator to warm the apartment up and to get our act together. I started sobbing, saying that there was no other way out but to leave. I was really sad to abandon my home. Roman, on the other hand, was calm and confident. He was not going to leave.
On March 1 we went to Roman’s sister. A lot of our acquaintances had already been there. I was worried. I wept and kept repeating that we had to leave. Nobody listened to me. Later a friend of ours came and offered to leave the city on the following day after curfew would be over. Someone from the military had told him that this might be the last day of a ‚green corridor‘. I was trying to persuade everyone to leave, but they were all against this idea.
Bombardments were so heavy that I thought my number was up
On the night from March 1 to March 2 I barely slept. The city districts of Kurchatovo and Pentagon were being intensely bombed. Roman was sleeping soundly. At every explosion I was praying that nobody would get hurt. Not once did we rush down to the basement. At 6:30 am we woke up to the sound of explosions and a phone call. The husband of Roman’s sister told us that his neighbors’ house had been hit by a bomb. He offered us to relocate at least to the central baptist church in the city. There was a heated basement with a connection to electricity. It then transpired that some of our friends had already been living there for a few days.
We packed our things with the idea that we would come back. While Roman was putting bags into the car a shell hit a neighboring house. He miraculously managed to hide behind a fence nearby. He only got covered with bits of earth. Off we drove. I thought we were approaching a highway. Our friends were waiting for us. But then Roman took a decision to drop by the church, see our relatives and think what to do next. His brother, Serhii, and his family had already spent a day hiding there.
I did not want to stay there. Time passed by while we were talking. Roman was having doubts as there were only two other families traveling in two cars that had also taken a decision to leave. I understood that such a journey was fraught with danger, but I kept sobbing and telling him that we had to leave. He chose to stay.
On March 3 we were praying to God, asking him to grant us the ‚green corridor’. Having talked to two people in high places, we understood that there would be no corridors. Lots of civilians were being killed while moving in convoys of cars. Leaving was out of the question.
Meanwhile, there was an influx of people coming to the church. People were fleeing from their demolished houses. They were all scared, hoping that they would receive help here. Our family were sleeping on the second floor of a Sunday school, while the majority of people were spending the night in the basement.
On march 4 extremely heavy shelling of the city centre began, right in the Kirov district where the church was located. Air bombs were landing. We were scared to death. Walls were trembling. At about 5 pm, another round of shelling began. We all rushed down into the basement and prayed. Honestly, in my thoughts I was saying goodbye to my life.
At that moment there was neither electricity, nor gas, water or mobile connection in the city. It was effectively cut off from everything. During shelling men would go to fetch water at a spring located about 2300 feet from the church. Women cooked food under the open sky, caught in fire of war. It was so tough mentally, everyone was exhausted. I cried a lot. I guess I had never cried that much in my life as during those three days. However, the worst was yet to come…
Rescue of a neighbor from a house on fire
After a terrible round of shelling we went to sleep feeling really worn out. The kids fell asleep instantly. At about 11 pm a fire broke out in a house located across the fence. We realized that there was no water and firefighters would not come to rescue. Being quite upset, we lay down. But then someone knocked on the church doors. These were scared neighbors from that house. They were shouting and asking for help. They said that there was a man in the basement of the burning house. After yesterday’s shelling he got frightened and went down into the basement. After the hit he got covered with earth up to his chest.
Roman and other guys ran to his rescue. I was going to join them but they did not allow me to. All I could do was only pray and watch little dots of flashlights running her and there. These were the flashlights that Roman and his friend, Stas, had attached to their foreheads.
By a miracle the neighbors happened to have a tub filled with rainwater. They tried to extinguish fire but the amount of water was insufficient. However, they guys were determined to reach their goal of saving the man. Some of them would move burning beams away barehanded.
At about 3:30 in the morning this man was brought into the church. His hand was broken. He was successfully admitted to hospital. Roman came back and I felt relief. On that night he was wearing a hoodie which I hardly ever take off now…
The night after which we practically did not come out of the basement
Every day caused extreme stress. To distract myself I tried to keep myself busy as much as I could. On March 5 I spent a lot of time working in the kitchen. Usually, in the evenings we would gather together to drink tea, sing songs and pray, dealing with current issues. However, on that day we felt really exhausted and went to bed. We spent the night on the second floor, while others were sleeping in the basement. On that evening my mom was panicking and she decided to spend the night in the basement together with my son, Oleh. He is 6. My daughter Emilia, Roman, his sister, Katya, and her daughter stayed with me upstairs. There were three windows in the room where we were sleeping. In the meantime, our friends were sitting in the kitchen on the first floor, drinking tea and chatting.
We fell asleep at 9pm. After two hours a defeaning explosion was heard. The air was filled with dust and the walls trembled. I got into panic, waking Emilia up and shouting to her that we were being bombarded. I ran barefoot with my daughter into the basement. The air smelled of cement, dust and concrete.
Then came the next explosion. A neighboring house was hit, the one that was located across the road opposite the church, leaving a crater 16 feet deep and almost 50 feet in diameter. The bomb was so massive that the house was buried under the earth and a huge stone flew about 50 feet skywards, hitting the roof of the church and piercing through its wall.
The effect of the bombardment could be seen on our cars. About 20 cars were parked nearby and almost each of them was badly damaged. Windshields had multiple cracks, back windows were smashed. Our car was intact, without even a scratch. It stood between two cars whose back windows were smashed into pieces.
After this shelling nobody dared spend the night upstairs. Very rarely did we come out of the basement in view of the ‚hot‘ developments above.
"For the love of God, we are not marauders. We must help people"
Our men would spend days on end searching for food, water and fuel. By that time all shops and drug stores had long been looted. On one of such trips they were passing by a house on whose fence huge letters painted in red were seen reading, "Help us where you can! We’ve got a baby here!"
My husband and his brother could not leave them in the lurch. A young woman approached them holding a baby accompanied by her father. Because of shelling she no longer had milk to breastfeed the baby, and baby formula was nowhere to be found. Serhii, my husband’s brother, had previously bought a bunch of flowers that he wanted to give his wife on her birthday. He got emotional and presented the woman with a rose and told her, "I can’t promise you anything, but with God’s help I will try to help you out". They gave them some of the food products they had and left.
The following morning Serhii told me this story. He could not sleep that night, thinking about how he could help that woman and her baby. Having had breakfast, they went to the shopping mall ‚Vostochnyi‘ (the Russian for ,eastern’ - translator’s note). In the mall the supermarket ‚Silpo‘ had practically been spared from looting. People living in the nearby residential buildings were afraid to come out of their basements. It gives you an idea just how fierce the hostilities there were. Having prayed, Roman and his brother approached the entrance to the supermarket saying, "For the love of God, we are not marauders. We must help people". Entering the shop they saw lots of empty shelves. There was no water, no wet wipes. However, in the corner there were lots of packs of baby formula for different age. When the guys brought the formula, the woman and her father were amazed. The father said, "I did not believe you. I was sure you would not come back". He and his daughter were crying…
Hot shower and wet wipes came as something luxurious
March 8. In times of peace, when I woke up on this day, hugs and flowers would be waiting for me. This time things were a bit different. But there was also place for love. I didn't ask anything. I wanted just peace and the opportunity to leave. But the guys had prepared a special present for us. As you know, there was no water and we collected rainwater, melted snow to flush the toilet and wash dishes. After two weeks of war each of us what dreaming of taking shower and washing our heads. On that day our men brought buckets of water from the spring and warmed it up over open fire so that each of us could freshen up. Those who have never lived in such conditions as we did, will never understand how happy one can be.
After breakfast Roman came up to me and led me up upstairs where the bathrooms were. He brought buckets of hot water for me, Emilia and mom. ‚I got in line. You are among the first to go. There is plenty of water, so take shower as long as you want‘. We had a ‚washing day‘. All of the women took shower. Every woman left the bathroom smiling. You don’t need much to be happy.
In the evenings the guys presented us with spring flowers. My cousin was growing flowers for sale. However, this year there has been nobody she could have sold them to. So, she sacrificed them. When we were alone, Roman told me, ‚I love you and the kids more than anything else‘, presenting me with a heart-shaped balloon, a bar of ‚Mars‘ and 5 small packs of wet wipes. He found those things for me. Even in such difficult times he searched for the opportunity to please me. This was the last happiest day before the worst day of my life.
These were the last words that I said to my husband
March 9. I woke up and began helping people in the kitchen. The guys decided to go to ‚Vostochnyi‘ and to find some medications and fuel. To my surprise, I let Roman go with a calm heart. When I was pouring tea for the people in the kitchen he came up to me, saying, ‚My dear, I am going‘. In the bustle of the day I looked at him and told him for the very first time, ‚Please, come back alive‘. He smiled to me and said, ‚I will surely do‘.
My husband, his brother and another 3 guys left the church at about 10 am. I spent the whole day cooking. I distracted myself as much as I could. Planes were flying over the church the whole day. Shelling wouldn't stop. When I'm nervous I wear myself out with work. At 3 PM I was cleaning the kitchen, frequently glancing up at my watch. I was thinking about when they would come back. When I walked into my friends’ room, we started talking and looking at photos on our smartphones. At 3:40 pm a feeling of great anxiety came over me. My ears and cheeks became hot. I began rushing about the room, saying that something must have happened to the guys. My friends consoled me, saying that it took the guys a bit longer than usual and they might spend the night in the basement of their friend. They would come back the following morning, so they told me.
I couldn't stop worrying. I was rushing about the room. I was praying. I understood that something bad happened. The men would always come back until 5 PM because curfew began at six. I then decided to go and search for them. I asked Serhii to come with me. He tried to talk me out of it. I ran for the car keys but then my mom stopped me. She was crying. She told me she wouldn't let me go because it was extremely dangerous. Nevertheless, I was intent on leaving. She started yelling and calling for my uncle. He rushed to us, explaining to me that after 6 PM I could easily be shot down even by Ukrainian soldiers. That was the law.
In tears, I stayed upstairs understanding that something terrible happened. Just after 7 pm I heard a barely audible sound of a car beeping. Someone pulled up at the gate of the church. I ran outside to meet the men. Having opened the gates I saw my brother. He brought us sugar and fuel. I told him that our guys had disappeared and we needed to help them. I was in despair, wailing. Bad thoughts were crossing my mind. Everyone was consoling me. I made a decision to wait for the following morning. I woke up and was already going to leave. Knowing just what kind of person I am, my mother had hidden the car keys.
Roman and others were nowhere to be found. We assumed that they had been taken hostages. The atmosphere in the church was really intense. Everyone was nervous. At about 11 in the morning other men from the church set out to search for our guys. I began cooking lunch by peeling vegetables. At about 12 PM they broke tragic news to me, ‚They came under mortar fire. It was a direct hit’. Having heard the terrible news, I fainted. The blast wave threw two men out of the car by several feet. The bodies of others burned down almost completely.
On March 9 Roman Savielyev and his friends were killed by a direct hit on their car.
March 9 was the day I saw my loved husband for the last time. Roman will always be 31. We buried them on March 10 in a common grave located in the church yard.
After the funerals we spent another 5 days in the church. After that we plucked up courage and left.
My children and I are currently living in the vicinity of Lisbon, the capital city of Portugal. In my rucksack I still have presents that my husband gave me, a bar of chocolate and a pack of wet wipes.
I grew up without a father. I was dreaming of a wonderful husband and a father for my kids. We wanted to live a happy life. However, this horrendous war took from us my loved husband and my children’s doting father away.
