Tetiana Novakova was born on 18th April 1972 in a town near Cherkasy. She has a degree in law and was working in this field. On 25th October 1999, she gave birth to her daughter Anastasiya in Cherkasy. As a result of the flu and neuroinfection, Anastasiya developed a complex disability.

Until 24th February 2022, Tetiana and Anastasiya Novakovi lived in Cherkasy. They were disability-rights activists and cooperated with a number of public organisations and local governments.

THE BEGINNING

OF THE RUSSIAN-UKRAINIAN WAR

In the morning, Tetiana received a phone call from her son who informed her that the war had started. Tetiana Novakova’s first reaction was shock, she did not know how to break the news to Anastasiya.

That morning, I just asked Anastasiya not to check social networks, not to look through any information chats”.

Tetiana studied any information about the development of events. However, she could not figure out what decision she should make for herself and for her daughter. She was not even sure whether it would be right to leave the house for shopping, leaving Anastasiya alone.

It was on that day [24th February 2022 — editor’s note] that we were allowed to go outside after the coronavirus. And it was on that day that I was going to go to the store to buy some food because during this week that we were sick, we just ran out of everything, and we couldn’t go anywhere. I realised that I couldn’t bring myself to leave the house because there was a certain fear that I could leave the house and something would happen, and I might not come back. And Anastasiya would be left alone in the apartment. This is what I was thinking about. So I ordered groceries by phone from the same store from which I used to order during the coronavirus and lockdown”.

The next day, on 25th February, air raids began in Cherkasy. Tetiana Novakova and Anastasiya prepared to go to shelter. However, it became clear that there were no accessible shelters nearby.

I helped her [Anastasiya — editor’s note] get dressed and put her in a wheelchair. And when we went outside [smiling — editor’s note], I realised that we couldn’t go down with her. So we were standing near the basement, and people were running to the basement from the neighbouring houses, and we were standing, and a person asked: ‘Why are you not coming down?’ People didn’t even understand that we couldn’t go down there. And it was, like… I don’t know, I can’t say it was scary, I felt like I didn’t understand what was going on at all. And then we just started walking around the house together with our neighbours who also have a boy in a wheelchair. And so we, let’s say, distracted ourselves a little from those thoughts that it was not clear what could happen, and we couldn’t go down anywhere, couldn’t hide anywhere with our children”.

The night of 25th–26th February was very stressful: military planes were flying very low over the house. The next morning, Tetiana’s friend from Germany called. This woman had been helping to organise camps for children and youth with disabilities and their parents in Ukraine for several years. The woman tried to convince Tetiana Novakova to evacuate to Germany with Anastasiya. At that time, Tetiana believed that “it was out of the question.” During the air raids on 26th February, Tetiana and Anastasiya did not even try to leave the apartment. They settled in their corridor.

In the morning, on 27th February, Tetiana’s son called and asked his mother to evacuate abroad with Anastasiya. Tetiana and Anastasiya decided to leave the city.

I decided that I would talk about it with Anastasiya. We talked, and Anastasiya said that she really wanted to leave because she was scared, because she knew that she wouldn’t be able to hide if something happens, that she couldn’t feel safe. A huge problem was also that Anastasiya constantly takes medication, I mean, she is medication dependent. And I realised that now it may happen that I won’t even be able to provide her with these medicines.”

EVACUATION

Tetiana Novakova started packing her belongings.

I put in the suitcase diapers, cloths to use as nappies, a pillow and a blanket, two cans of cocktails for Anastasiya, and a few bars of chocolate. It’s to make something to eat on the way and to change her clothes, to let Anastasiya lie down for a bit. Because she can’t sit in the wheelchair for more than 4 hours, she needs to lie down afterwards. I saw that it wasn’t so easy to leave. We didn’t have our own car, and I could see that it could be a rough ride, we could get stuck on the road, even for several days, so we didn’t take any personal belongings.”

Then she called the nearest railway station named after Taras Shevchenko and was assured that she and her daughter would be helped at the station and on the platform near the train. Then she had to find someone who could take her and Anastasiya from Cherkasy to this station (the distance was about 30 kilometres).

Friends from the Cherkasy office of Demokratychna Sokyra. [from ukr. “Democratic Axe” — a Ukrainian political party and non-governmental organisation — translator’s note] agreed to take them.

There were checkpoints on the way. It was very… I can’t say it was scary… Somehow I can’t even find the word — ‘scary’ or somewhat… somewhat uncomfortable. Because we passed places where there were trees, and they were cut down. Everything along the way was as prepared as possible. It was obvious that they were preparing for the war to somehow protect themselves, to make some obstacles in case military vehicles pass by or something. We were looking at it, and tears just flowed maybe because it was very hard to accept.”

There was a huge number of people at the station. Tetiana realised that the probability of her and Anastasiya getting on the train was low. Two trains were to pass by the station: to Lviv and to Uzhhorod. They had no specific evacuation plans. Tetiana tried to look for people who would help them board the train. Realising that she could not count on help, Tetiana thought about returning home. However, Anastasiya was afraid to go back.

Shortly after that, the air raid started. Everyone went down to the shelter. Everyone except Tetiana and Anastasiya Novakovi.

Nastusia and I were standing, and all the people went to the shelter, including the employees. And when the last people were coming in, these guys — I think they were from the Territorial Defence, most likely, — said to us: ‘What are you standing there for?’ This was the second time when people didn’t understand that we were standing because we couldn’t go down there. And I said: ‘Well, how are we supposed to get down there?’ And then he was like: ‘Oh, right.’ Then he went up again and said: ‘Maybe we can take you down after all?’ And then this picture flashed before my eyes: even if they take me down there with Anastasiya, this mass of people will simply crush her if there is a panic. So I realised this was not an option, like, at all.”

They stayed outside, on the ground, and decided to go to the platform where the train arrived very soon.

We started running from one train to another, and they wouldn’t open the doors. The conductors were simply saying that they couldn’t open the doors because the trains were full and during air raids, they had no right to open the carriages, so they had nowhere to take people. Anastasiya and I were walking from one end of the platform to another for fifteen minutes. I realised that we wouldn’t be able to board anywhere. But I couldn’t tell her about it. I decided that we would walk back and forth until the train leaves.”

TRAIN TO LVIV

Suddenly, a man appeared in front of Anastasiya and Tetiana. He invited them to one of the carriages where the door was opened for them.

We asked the conductor and this man to help us lift the wheelchair. When we started lifting the wheelchair, it got stuck between the raised platform and the train’s wheel. The conductor panicked. He started shouting that the train was about to leave and the wheelchair would be hanging on this platform. He started kicking the wheelchair with Anastasiya from behind, and the wheelchair almost fell. This man caught Anastasiya, and I quickly unfastened her in the dark — I don’t know how [smiling —editor’s note] — and this man took Anastasiya and went into the vestibule. I started going upstairs after him and dragging the wheelchair behind me. At that moment, the conductor started shouting at me to leave the wheelchair and the suitcase on the platform. But I broke [laughing — editor’s note] onto the train with that wheelchair. I assured him that I would fold it and put it somewhere because I can’t do without it.”

Tetiana and Anastasiya were placed on the floor in the vestibule, and the wheelchair was left in the passage between the carriages. Almost immediately after that, the conductor ordered everyone to cover their heads because people who came out of the shelter at the station attacked the train and could break the windows to get inside.

After a while, a conductor from the next carriage appeared and called Tetiana, Anastasiya and another woman with a child there. A separate berth was allocated for Anastasiya.

‍In the afternoon of 28th February, the train arrived in Lviv. Tetiana and Anastasiya were met by their son’s friends from Lviv Theological Seminary and taken to their office nearby. The woman started looking for transport to get to or cross the border. She recalled the invitation of her friend from Germany who gladly agreed to meet them on the Polish side.

CROSSING THE BORDER

After having lunch at the office of the Lviv Theological Seminary, Tetiana and Anastasiya got in touch with a driver who was ready to take them to the border crossing point together with several other families with disabled children. As the man lived in the border area and knew all the local roads well, he managed to drive the passengers right to the border checkpoint. There, the border guard helped them to pass out of turn.

On the Polish side of the border, Tetiana and Anastasiya were immediately met by volunteers who warmed and fed them. However, the bus that was taking people to the nearest refugee centre arrived only in more than two hours. There were so many people in there that it was impossible for Tetiana and Anastasiya to get to the inaccessible bus.

I could see that Anastasiya simply couldn’t sit in the wheelchair anymore. I saw that she felt very, very sick, and she didn’t say anything. She just had tears streaming down her cheeks.”

A Polish border guard helped them. She found policemen who took Tetiana and Anastasiya to the nearest refugee centre so that they could rest and contact Farina, a friend from Germany.The centre was located in Tomaszów Lubelski.

Soon, they found a local man who agreed to take Anastasiya and her mother to the Polish-German border.

It must have been a school. There were a lot of people there, I don’t know, hundreds of people. There were a lot of these cots… And that’s what caught my eye there: cats, dogs, small children — everyone sat quietly. People were so overwhelmed that even small children, even babies realised that something was happening. And when we came in, I saw that there was no free cot… And then I saw a mattress on the side, like, a green
mattress,— I will remember it for the rest of my life. And I was so happy [smiling — editor’s note],
I thought: ‘Great, I can put Anastasiyka on this mattress.’ I took her off the wheelchair. She was so exhausted by that time, she just started crying. I hugged her and we cried together.”

Анастасія Новакова, Гамбург, 24 серпня 2022 року - День незалежності України.

“THERE WAS A BOUQUET

OF BLUE AND YELLOW FLOWERS

ON THE TABLE”

In the morning of 1st March, the friend met Tetiana and Anastasiya at the Polish-German border and drove them to Hamburg in 8 hours.

Фото 5. Тетяна та Анастасія позують на сонячній набережній. Донька у кріслі колісному, яке мама позаду тримає за ручки. Волосся Анастасії зав’язане у пучок на маківці. На ній лосіни з рожево-блакитним геометричним малюнком та білі кросівки з червоною підошвою. Тулуб закутаний у строкатий шалик зі східним орнаментом. Тетяна з високим хвостом і в сонцезахисних окулярах-крапельках; на ній чорна майка, світло-сині джинси та білі кросівки. Обидві широко всміхаються. За ними пристані для катерів і яхт, а в річці довжелезне пасажирське судно. На протилежному березі видно сірі багатоповерхівки та будівельні крани за деревами.

We were really impressed by how warmly that people, — strangers, in fact, — treated us. It was all very nice. But, on the other hand, there was an airport nearby. And when the planes were taking off, these sounds were so frightening that I just wanted to fall to the ground.”

On 3rd March, they managed to find an apartment accessible to Anastasiya and moved there from their friend’s place. After some time, Tetiana and her German friend Farina established a network for evacuating people with disabilities from Ukraine to Hamburg.

Recently Tetiana started attending integration courses. She was also looking for language courses for her daughter. But she could not find any lessons adapted to Anastasiya’s disability.

However, the administrator of the language school that Tetiana attends facilitated the creation of informal language courses for people with intellectual disabilities.

Фото 10. Анастасія в кабінеті мовної школи. Він має світлі стіни та лінолеум горіхового кольору; посередині тонка колона зі світильником. За нею біля стіни одне на одного складені дерев’яні стільці на тонких металевих ніжках, а на стелі висить проектор. Анастасія сидить за білим столом, усміхаючись в об’єктив. На ній чорна кофта та шалик зі східним візерунком. Перед дівчиною на столі пляшка води та два підручники німецької мови. Позаду дошка з паперовими аркушами. На останньому синім маркером написано німецькою: «Четвер, 08.09.2022, 14:30».

She [the language school administrator — editor’s note] had been corresponding with many people for several months. And just at the end of August, she said that Caritas allocated funds and they found a teacher. In this house where we live, they provided a free conference room for classes. And now classes are held twice a week. We put an ad in the group ‘Ukrainians in Hamburg’ in which we said that there will be courses adapted for people with disabilities who have speech impairments, have perception disorders, who cannot write; that they will have the opportunity to learn German. And six people responded. Now they are already learning.”

Tetiana and Anastasiya do not plan to return to Ukraine in the near future because they feel safe in Germany. This feeling is very important for Anastasiya: “When we come to this cathedral, it reminds us of Ukraine — burnt and half-destroyed, in the middle of modern Europe.”

Фото 2. Анастасія в білій куртці зі строкатими візерунками сидить на кріслі колісному спиною до глядача перед Церквою Святого Миколая в Гамбурзі. Це готична вежа з чорними від сажі стінами. Крізь велике арочне вікно на другому поверсі видно зо три десятки невеликих чорних дзвонів.

tetiana novakova