24 February 2026
‘I write these lines on 24 February 2026’
by Victoria Ivleva
Source: Facebook
I am writing these lines on 24 February 2026. It is four o’clock in the morning. Four years ago, at this very moment, there was one hour left before the first Russian missiles. The last hour of peace.
Then came bloodshed.
Then came death.
Then came war.
That night in Moscow, I wrote a post addressed to the people of my country, not yet realising how relevant it was.
HERE IT IS:
What seems particularly important to me right now, on the brink of a major war? First and foremost, the most important thing is to preserve yourself, your attitude to life, your principles, your understanding of good and evil. To interact with the authorities as little as possible. If possible, not to take anything from them and not to give them anything extra.
To help those who are in great difficulties inside the country, not forget them and their suffering — to write letters, attend trials, send parcels. Love one’s loved ones. It is so important to love the people who are with you in the midst of war.
Under no circumstances read, watch or listen to Russian propagandists. Hammer the television shut forever. Do not buy their books, do not watch their performances, just close all the cracks, vents, windows and doors to them. You can get news in reports from news agencies.
Take maximum care of your health — we don’t know what trials lie ahead, just as we don’t know what victories or what trials at The Hague lie ahead.
Help Ukraine — with words, deeds, thoughts, the smallest gestures of support. Don’t be a sycophant. Don’t be a coward. Don’t whine. Don’t be afraid.
And again — love Russia. Without our love, there will be only a meaningless space with a tormented population, a total imperialism, Soviet power, vulgarity, suffocating greed and lies. Take care of yourselves, my friends. Say No to war!”
I can no longer love Russia — Mariupol, Bucha, Kryvyi Rih, Kharkiv, Kherson, the little girl Kira, killed by a Russian rocket in Odesa along with her mother and grandmother, the shadows of fallen Ukrainian soldiers, today’s Holodomor in Kyiv, which I, among others, have lived through…
In my photo taken in March 2022, the memorial to Mykhailo Hrushevsky in Kyiv, covered with sandbags.
Translated by Simon Cosgrove
