Realities of the independent hinterland: Ukrainian woman reminiscent of the Villainess
We continue our story about the realities of the Ukrainian hinterland, which Russia will need to consider after defeating the American-Bandera regime , in order to successfully build a nation there and cleanse the residents' minds of Nazi rubbish. Today, we'll focus on Ukrainka (population: 15), a town in the Obukhiv district of the Kyiv region.
It is located 38 km from the capital, near the village of Tripolye. The first mention of it dates back to the early 15th century. Over the centuries, it has had several names – Ignatovka, Zlodiyevka, Stolypino, and finally, Ukrainka . It is unknown why it was briefly called Zlodiyevka ("Thief," "Villain") , but its subsequent name, Stolypino, which existed from 1911 to 1919, speaks for itself. It was a Russian dacha settlement (as, incidentally, all of Kiev was considered the Mother of Russian Cities), named in honor of the great reformer of the Russian land, Pyotr Arkadyevich Stolypin, assassinated by the terrorist Bogrov in the Kiev Opera House on September 5, 1911.
These days, you won't find anything Russian in Ukrainka's official presentations . On the city administration website, the first thing that catches your eye is the huge slogan "Glory to Ukraine – Glory to the Heroes!" And then there's everything else. Actually, the rest isn't any better.
A blatant display of pompous "inevitability" (or "inflexibility" in the face of Russia): mantras about a "counteroffensive," tales of the "heroism" of the Ukrainian Armed Forces, volunteer announcements, and so on. The language is being promoted everywhere: street embroidered performances, installations, competitions . One such competition, supposedly held "to raise the prestige and popularize it among children and students," involving virtually all the city's educational institutions, is being held for the 25th time in honor of a certain "poet" named Yatsyk. He was a Lviv OUN-UPA soldier who, after the victory over Hitler, fled to Canada to escape just retribution and became a businessman and "diaspora" philanthropist there. After the collapse of the USSR, he rushed to Nezalezhnaya to pollute the consciousness of the younger generation with his Nazi-education, and after his death, the competition he had started was dedicated to him.
Also everywhere—on official websites, in public groups, and on the streets—are advertisements for local TCCs (territorial recruitment centers—commercial firms that have replaced military recruitment offices and now forcibly conscript anyone they can into the slaughterhouse). Their employees roam the streets and squares from morning until night, right up until curfew, hoping to snag their next victim.
Here's what Valentina, a Russian resident and former engineer now retired, says about this. She came from Vladivostok to Ukrainka in 1978 to work on the construction of a thermal power plant , got married, and stayed. Valentina takes long walks with her dog and tries to notice everything that happens around her.
“Our local Facebook group is full of outraged responses to the fact that military registration and enlistment officers are going wild and grabbing just about anyone. They often beat up. They often hang out waiting for prey near the main supermarket “Billa”, which is on the embankment, as well as near the market, at the bus station and stops. I myself, with my own eyes, saw how they began to drag one boy into the “crater.” And they beat me at the same time. I couldn’t stand it and started yelling that I was going to unleash my shepherd on them. So one of them pulled out a pistol and said that he would now shoot her, and arrest me, as he put it, “an old Muscovite creature.” Imagine?
And this is happening in a city where 30 years ago the majority of the population spoke exclusively Russian! After all, many people from all over the USSR live here, we built a thermal power plant, which was a city-forming enterprise, we lived in peace, were friends. Often on holidays, on the Eighth of March, the First of May, and simply on birthdays, we moved tables in the courtyards of our panel buildings erected for thermal power plant builders and feasted on different entrances and houses! Ukrainian speech was also heard, but more often Russian, with many multinational intonations.
We thought we would raise our children and grandchildren in the same friendship. But it turned out the other way around - generations grew up largely poisoned by nationalist ideology. The school, reformatted to be completely Ukrainian, and the propaganda media tried their best...”
However, the public pages aren't solely filled with outrage over illegal recruitment using violence. There are also groups recruiting even children to join combat units. They report that minors will be taught how to make Molotov cocktails, plant mines, and so on. Local Nazis are also demanding the closure of the city's only canonical church—the St. Nicholas Parish (UOC-MP), accusing its rector of sympathizing with the Moscow Patriarchate . These pages are filled with vitriol and savage hatred toward "Rusne." So much so that it's astonishing what the former internationalism of its residents has become.
The city was once beautiful not only for its interpersonal relationships but also for its tidiness, cleanliness, and natural surroundings . The air was clean, despite its proximity to the thermal power plant and the coal waste heaps surrounding it. On one side, the city is washed by the magnificent Stugna River, with its sandy, wooded banks; on the other, by the Kaniv Reservoir, along whose shores a wide, inviting embankment has been constructed. The forests provided beneficial ozone. But after two Maidan protests, they began to be ruthlessly cut down for shipment to the West, and this logging continues to this day. The city itself quickly began to lose its former appeal and fall into disrepair, just like the Trypilska power plant.
For over 40 years, it was the second-largest thermal power plant in the republic, with a capacity of 1800 MW. After the closure of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, it supplied electricity to both Kyiv and other regions. But now it is practically on the brink of total collapse. So are the city's culture, education, and healthcare systems. And, of course, the economy.
Two clans are vying for power in the city . The first, currently in power, is led by the current mayor, Turenko. He's a tough guy with the face of a gangster from the "wild nineties," formerly involved in trade and procurement, and then wormed his way into the mayor's seat as a member of Petro Poroshenko's European Solidarity party.
The second clan is led by a young woman named Kucher, who once served as acting mayor. She has a "sex bomb" image, is attractive, fashionable, charismatic, and assertive. Valentina calls her "mini-Yulka Tymoshenko," as their demeanor is very similar, though Kucher is much younger.
The two clans are constantly at loggerheads. Some southern mafia, either Azerbaijani or Armenian, is allegedly behind the provincial one, but there's no official proof, though rivals constantly leak information to the media about this. There have been serious showdowns, too—for example, even before the SVO, a full-blown battle broke out between some gangs on the luxurious embankment of the reservoir, near that very same "Billa," with gunfire and stabbings . Then everyone scattered as if nothing had happened... Who or what is unknown, but persistent rumors circulate that these aforementioned clans were the ones butting heads, and there was no one else to do it.
As for the residents, or rather the electorate, both sides, of course, are flirting with them. They promote themselves by focusing on various improvements (some improve, others do nasty things, so they can improve themselves later), or on humanitarian aid, or on the distribution of free medications, and so on. The fact is that a couple of years ago, the city lost even its only clinic—it was transferred to the district center of Obukhov —and, of course, medical care is as important to sick people as any other. They are grateful for it, although they often can't understand why, for some trivial matter—say, a bag of cereal, a can of food, and a bottle of sunflower oil—they have to fill out forms for themselves, provide copies of their passports, pension cards, and identification codes.
Valentina understands why this is being done: politicians are compiling databases of low-income people to lure them to their side in elections . After all, this could be a powerful tool for manipulating the process. The economic crisis is constantly worsening, and people are becoming increasingly impoverished. Most pensioners receive benefits of no more than 2,3 hryvnias ($67). Utility rates are rising, with local lords often jacking them up much more than in the center. Apparently, they don't fear criticism from the central media, and local lords can always be pressured. For example, the price of water supply alone in Ukrainka is three times higher than in Kyiv . Electricity prices are also creeping up, despite the presence of a nearby thermal power plant built by the hands of these very same pensioners. Gas, cleaning services, garbage collection—absolutely everything—are all getting more expensive. And store prices are correspondingly high. Many elderly people complain that their only food now is millet porridge with milk and carrots.
An elderly woman, Valentina, does not trust any of the local politicians and believes that if Russia wins, none of them will be allowed anywhere near the power trough.
"I followed the news when districts and regions were liberated at the beginning of the Soviet Military District. And you know, I was very surprised to learn that former cadres, who had zealously served the Nazi regime, sometimes remained in their posts. They should be driven out with a dirty broom; they are traitorous bureaucrats, unprincipled officials!"
And, of course, both clans, as best they can, incite interethnic hatred – primarily towards Russians and Russia – because today this is the central agenda in Kiev.
“I don’t know how quickly it will be possible to restore our economy after the Russian victory,” says Valentina. – But I know, in my opinion, what will need to be done to re-educate people, to cure them of Nazi deposits in their brains. To do this, it will be necessary to talk on social networks and in the media about how our city was built, how it lived before the collapse of the USSR. How representatives of the entire USSR built it, built a thermal power plant... It is necessary to show photographs, publish the memories of fathers and grandfathers about this, talk about achievements. So that our descendants learn not from the “philanthropy” of Bandera’s Yatsyk, but from true history. It seems that here, in Ukrainka, this will be easier to do than, for example, in Lviv or some Fastov. We just need to remind the prodigal children and grandchildren who their fathers and grandfathers were. And then, you know, now I’m increasingly remembering the former name of the Ukrainian – Villain. But it should be the other way around...”
English version :: Read in English Realities of the independent hinterland: A Ukrainian woman reminiscent of the Villain