爆撃から逃れて…地下鉄駅で新生活 ウクライナ東部

【ＡＦＰ＝時事】ウクライナ東部のエレナ・イワノブナさんが住む村に２月、ロシア軍が進攻してきたのを受け、一家は日が昇る前に荷物を車に積んでハルキウに逃れた。しかし、そこは最前線だった。（写真はハルキウ郊外の地下鉄駅で避難生活を送る人）
　ハルキウは人口１５０万人のウクライナ第２の都市。ロシア軍の侵攻当初から制圧の標的となり、昼夜を問わず攻撃にさらされている。
　店舗は吹き飛ばされ、居住区からは煙が立ち上っている。イワノブナさん一家をはじめ、人々は地下鉄駅への避難を余儀なくされた。
　イワノブナさん一家が暮らす村は、ロシアとの国境から１０キロしか離れていない。侵攻が始まった２月２４日夜、一家は眠っていた。
　「朝４時半に目が覚めた。子どもたちも起きてきて、すぐにこれは戦争だと悟った」とイワノブナさん。「窓越しにすべてが燃えているのが見えた。自宅も揺れた」と振り返る。
　夫と８歳、１０歳、１７歳の子どもは急いで着替え、わずかな持ち物を持って自宅の地下室にまず避難した。
　「１５分後、静かになった。車に駆け込み、ハルキウへ向かって飛ばした」
　途中、ミサイルが「至る所に落ちる」のが見えたという。
　イワノブナさんはハルキウで母親と合流。だがそこも攻撃にさらされていた。
　一家は再び地下室で身を寄せ合った。６日間を過ごした後、より安全な場所に逃れる必要があると感じ、地下鉄駅に向かった。

■構内の日常

　２か月たった今も、約７００人がハルキウ市内の地下鉄駅で暮らしている。
　マットレスや毛布、ベッド、机、いすが構内に運び込まれた。ボランティアが定期的に通路を掃除し、電気も通っている。
　読書やひと眠り、おしゃべり、構内の散歩―。平穏な時には、地下鉄駅の住人たちは自分たちに許されたことをしている。
　「ボランティアが１日に３回、食事を持ってきてくれる。温かい食事や子ども向けのお菓子、プレゼント、おもちゃ、えんぴつまでも」とイワノブナさん。
　子どもたちはここ１か月間、対面とオンライン授業を組み合わせて、地下で学習を再開している。
　ボランティアは気晴らしのため演劇やコンサート、人形劇、運動の講習も開いてくれる。
　しかし、地上では戦闘が依然、続いている。
　イワノブナさんは、攻撃があると子どもたちはいまだに「目を覚まし、震え、薬がほしいと言う」と話した。「ロシア兵がすべて去り、ミサイルの爆発音を聞いたり、ミサイルが飛んでくるのを見たりしなくても済む」時が来るのが待ち遠しいと語った。【翻訳編集ＡＦＰＢＢＮｅｗｓ】
〔ＡＦＰ＝時事〕（2022/04/25-13:07）

When Russian troops steamrolled through her east Ukrainian village in February, Elena Ivanovna's family packed their car before dawn and fled to Kharkiv, where they unwittingly found themselves on the front line.
Ukraine's second city has been pummelled by strikes day and night since Russian forces attempted to seize it at the start of the invasion.
The bitter fighting has rendered the city of 1.5 million a tangle of blown-out shops and smouldering apartment blocks, and forced families like Ivanovna's underground where they are sheltering in the metro.
We thought that here (in Kharkiv) we would find salvation, but it became the front line. Helicopters and planes were bombing the city. So we decided to come to the metro, the 40-year-old kindergarten teacher said.
On February 24, the night of the invasion, Ivanovna and her family were asleep in their village Lyptsi, just 10 kilometres (six miles) from the Russian border.
We woke at 4:30 in the morning... even the children woke and immediately realised that this was war, she said.
Through the window, we could see that everything was on fire, our house was shaking.
Ivanovna, her husband and their children, aged eight, 10 and 17, dressed quickly, grabbed a handful of belongings and initially took refuge in their own basement.
After 15 minutes, it got quieter, so we ran to our car and drove towards Kharkiv... as fast as we could.
As they drove, they saw missiles falling everywhere, she said.
When they got to the city to join Ivanovna's mother, they found it too was under fire.
So, once again, the family crowded into a cellar as the strikes rained over them.
After six days, they knew they needed somewhere safer, so they joined hundreds of others in one of the stations.
- Living in the metro -
Two months later, about 700 people are still living in the various metro stations that punctuate Kharkiv.
Close to the Russian border, the city saw heavy fighting at the start of Moscow's offensive but has always remained under Ukrainian control.
The first week, people slept on top of each other. There was no humanitarian aid. No one understood what was going on, said Iolia, one of the volunteers helping the displaced.
To create a semblance of privacy, the families have divvied up the station's long platform.
Mattresses, blankets, beds, tables and chairs have been brought into the station, while volunteers regularly clean the passageways and ensure the electricity works.
In the calmer moments, the station residents occupy themselves as best as they can. Some read, some sleep, while others talk or pace the alleys.
Volunteers bring us food three times a day, even hot meals, sweets for the children... gifts, toys, pencils, Ivanovna said.
Sitting on a mattress, one of Ivanovna's daughters explored a large princess castle that just arrived.
For the past month, children have even been able to resume their studies underground, with a mix of face-to-face lessons and online study.
To keep the residents occupied, volunteers have put on theatre performances, concerts, puppet shows and led physical exercise classes.
There was an animal show, (as well as) painting and games so that our children could feel better mentally and physically, said Ivanovna.
On the Friday before Easter, volunteers handed out paska, a traditional bun coated in icing and colourful sprinkles.
But the conflict raging above them is never far away for long.
When the rockets strike, the children still wake up, tremble and ask for medicine.
Our life is frightening, difficult. But we wait and we hope, said Ivanovna.
She added that she longs for the day when all the Russian soldiers leave, when we no longer hear any missile strikes and we no longer see any rockets.