Two large stamps fill opposing pages of Oksana Zinyenko's Ukrainian passport. One proves she is a resident of the town of Yenakievo, in the eastern region of Donetsk; the other that she was married in Crimea. The Black Sea peninsula was annexed by the Kremlin in March, soon after President Viktor Yanukovich was toppled; and Donetsk is the epicentre of fierce fighting that has killed more than 400 people since April, when government forces launched a crackdown on pro-Moscow separatists.
"Crimea and Donetsk," Oksana sighs through a half-smile, dropping the passport back in a drawer of her new home outside Kiev. "What a combination." She left Yenakievo before a May referendum held by the rebels in Donetsk and neighbouring Luhansk province, which they claimed gave overwhelming local support to their bid to break from Ukraine.
“No one knows who’s in charge of Yenakievo. Who are these rebels? There are checkpoints everywhere, the police do nothing, prosecutors do nothing, cash machines have stopped working. How could we stay?” Oksana says.
Surrounding lawlessness
Her young son, Bohdan, runs around the 25sq m room they now share with Elmira, who arrived from the city of Donetsk two days earlier. Sitting on a mattress on the floor, Elmira says her nerves are shot from gunfire and bombing, and daily stories of killing, kidnapping and robbery, as her industrial hometown sinks into lawlessness. Their room is basic, but clean and bright, and distinguished by its location. “Yanukovich came from Yenakievo,” says Oksana, “and how could I ever imagine we’d end up living here on his estate?”
The former convict from the hardscrabble metal and coal town spared no expense on his residence at Mezhyhirya, a complex of lavish buildings set in 140 hectares of parkland by the Dnieper river near Kiev.
On the February day after Yanukovich and his entourage vanished, the gates of the estate were thrown wide open, and thousands wandered freely around a vast symbol of the corrupt and brutal regime ousted.
Public access
The golf course, woods and grounds are still open to the public and visitors can wander through the villa and ogle rooms heavy with marble, exotic woods and chandeliers.
What were formerly the staff’s quarters serve a very different purpose, however: housing families who have fled fighting that threatens to tear the industrial east from Kiev’s grasp.
The United Nations says some 110,000 have fled from Donetsk and Luhansk to Russia in recent months, while a further 54,000 have been displaced within Ukraine.
A 10-day government ceasefire this month achieved nothing, and the resumption of full hostilities brought more destruction to towns like Slovyansk and Kramatorsk, where the military and rebels accused each other of firing heavy weapons at civilian areas. Those who could not or would not leave took shelter in basements; under a growing onslaught, the militants retreated from Slovyansk at the weekend.
“Half my town is in ruins,” says Alyona, cradling a baby born after she arrived at Mezhyhirya from Slovyansk barely three weeks ago. “I don’t know who’s to blame, or what to believe. People say the rebels were firing from the top floors of apartment buildings and the military fired back.”
She climbs into a car with Inna, who has lived at Yanukovich’s estate for a month with her two small children. “With the bombing, flying glass and the buildings shaking, we just had to leave,” Inna says. “It was terrible in Slovyansk. This government is giving us a place to stay and food to eat here, but what else has it done for us? We’d be better off without it.”
Region of misery
It is a common view in Donetsk and Luhansk that the pro-western leaders who succeeded Yanukovich have brought only misery to regions that were his powerbase, and which have much stronger ties with Russia than with the EU.
It will still take Kiev years to regain the trust of places like Slovyansk, and rebuild ruined streets and economies.
For now, the separatists are retreating but not surrendering; they have concentrated their forces in Donetsk city, and still hope Russia’s military will rescue them from a Ukraine that Moscow officials have called “fascist”.
The developments bring no peace to the residents of Mezhyhirya. Elmira fears she will have to leave if Oksana’s husband arrives to share her room, and Oksana worries how two-year-old Bohdan will cope.
“Whatever happens, I’ll always be proud that we lived at Yanukovich’s residence,” says Oksana. “It will be quite a tale for Bohdan when he’s older.”
