“That’s What Our Country Is Like” Kursk, a refugee aid center. A “7x7” correspondent observes the volunteers at work, while several dozen people seeking assistance wait near the entrance. Volunteers have formed a human chain, passing boxes, water bottles, and blankets from hand to hand. Cars carrying humanitarian aid arrive at the center every 10 minutes. Occasionally, Kursk residents come to the building with bags in hand, and couriers deliver ordered items. Here’s what people in line were talking about: - “We decided to go to our relatives for a day until it all calms down. We didn’t take anything for the kids. We left our diplomas, jewelry, the house and the apartment mortgage papers at home — we haven’t even gotten the keys yet.”
- “Our neighbor fled through the swamps. A woman with two kids. They left with just two bags, all they could grab quickly. Drones chased them. A local farmer driving nearby picked up the woman and her children and rushed them to [the village of] Bolshesoldatskoye at a crazy speed. People are trying to escape through the fields, with mud up to their knees!”
- “No one evacuated us. We did it all by ourselves. Friends and neighbors helped us get out. I guess the entire administration was the first to run away.”
A few meters from the aid center’s gates, a girl speaks with two elderly women. They had all lived in Sudzha, almost on the same street, but only met at the aid center. The young woman is a police officer. When Ukrainian sabotage and reconnaissance groups (SRGs) entered the district, female officers were ordered to leave with their families. Her male colleagues stayed behind to evacuate people and guard property. “I told my mom, ‘If those [SRG soldiers] get into our house and see my uniform, they’ll probably run us over with a tank,’” the police officer laughs. She left by car on the first day of the incursion with her grandmother, mother, and uncle. “We were used to the constant booming and banging [of the military equipment] in our gardens. Normally, we’d take some of our belongings, wait on the hill almost at the exit, and then come back. It usually took three or four hours. We did the same thing on August 6, but no one expected we wouldn’t be able to return,” recounts the young woman. Those who left the combat zone in Kursk Oblast will automatically receive a payment of 15,000 rubles. On August 8, a one-time payment of 10,000 rubles was introduced. According to the acting governor of Kursk Oblast, Alexey Smirnov, local residents “do not want to leave” and are requesting permission to use the compensation vouchers to repair their houses instead of buying new ones. Meanwhile, over 4,000 people have signed a petition asking to be allowed to procure property in other regions. |