The faces of life and death in Russia’s war
These guys are my age or younger. They travelled the world. Spoke Korean. Visited Wuhan and Congo. Started businesses. Hitchhiked in the States. Died fighting for Ukraine.
I wrote about Azov, and it strikes me still: the poison in people’s words, the muddle in people’s heads. Let’s clarify the terms. Heroes are those defending their land. Fascists are those invading others’ land, seeking to kill off a nation for being “other than their own”.
I walk a peaceful street. I breathe. I watch the sun, the sky, the stars. I never questioned this before: how many have to die, for me to have the hope to walk, and watch the sky, and breathe freely— on my own land?
This guy — Denys Antipov — taught Korean in Kyiv University and ran a business making toys. He died in combat four days ago. I read about him and thought he could be me. He was from Ivano-Frankivsk, went to Kyiv School of Economics, travelled to the States to get his business going, spoke several languages, worked in academia. Except he died, defending Ukraine.
This guy — Oleksandr Makhov — was a well-known journalist. He travelled to Wuhan at the start of Covid, reported from Congo, spent time in Antarctica. He joined the army back in 2015, at the age of 28. He was from Donbas — Luhansk, to be precise. He died in early May, fighting on the front-lines position near Izyum.
Life and death are not abstract in Ukraine. They have faces. They are daughters, sons. They could be me. I could be them.
I walk a peaceful street. I breathe.