Some lives are measured not in years but in the distance between a shelled city and a bus that finally moves. In late October, hundreds of residents of Oleshky, a town on the Dnipro that Russian forces had held since the first days of the full-scale invasion, crossed a fragile humanitarian pause into northern Ukraine, carrying the memory of years of fear, hunger and mines. Many arrived to embrace people they had feared never to see again, while thousands more remain behind, and the question now is how those who escaped will begin again.
'We came back from hell': Ukrainians evacuated from Russian-occupied Oleshky after years under siege
"We came back from hell."
Why does this evacuation stand out from the others we've read about?
Because of the window. The ceasefire gave the Kherson region its first few days of peace in four years, and residents had only four hours on Friday to use it.
And the scale? 25 buses sounds large.
It's capacity, not a headcount. The buses were for up to 750 people. What we know is that hundreds arrived, not an exact figure.
Still, hundreds of people is a lot for a city where about 1,700 were thought to remain.
That 6,000 figure for the wider area, how firm is it?
It's described as what people are believed to be. That's an estimate, not a count, and the article doesn't say who made it.
What struck you in the accounts themselves?
Palii hiding the bathroom blast and the strikes from his daughters. And Olha's family weighing minefields against shelling and finding no safe choice.
Worth noting those details come from the evacuees themselves. The mine casualties and the weed cooking are their accounts; no independent figures are given.
What happens to them now?
They start over. Palii wants any job he can get, and Olha's family will stay with acquaintances.
And what happens to those still in Oleshky is the open question. The reporting doesn't say whether more evacuations are planned.
Le Pouls
- A city pinned between a river and occupying forces has spent years under shelling, drone strikes and scarcity.
- A four-hour evacuation window opened through a brief ceasefire, and a convoy of 25 buses raced to carry out as many as possible.
- The route wound through occupied territory, Russia and Belarus, before ending at a military facility in Chernihiv where the weakest were carried on stretchers.
- Up to 6,000 people, including 200 children, are still believed to be in Oleshky, while the evacuees face unfamiliar towns and rebuilding from nothing.
Some lives are measured not in years but in the distance between a shelled city and a bus that finally moves. In late October, hundreds of residents of Oleshky, a town on the Dnipro that Russian forces had held since the first days of the full-scale invasion, crossed a fragile humanitarian pause into northern Ukraine, carrying the memory of years of fear, hunger and mines. Many arrived to embrace people they had feared never to see again, while thousands more remain behind, and the question now is how those who escaped will begin again.
Olha has one word for the last few years in Oleshky: horror. She stepped off a coach in Ukraine's Chernihiv region with her husband Viacheslav, their son and daughter, and the family dog. Viacheslav put it another way: "We came back from hell."
Russia seized Oleshky in the first days of the full-scale invasion in February 2022, and since then the city has been caught between the Dnipro River and Russian forces. As shelling grew heavier, the family feared the mined and drone-exposed routes out might be deadlier than staying. When food ran short, they crossed minefields to search for it, and others were killed or maimed doing the same. Some neighbours were reduced to cooking garden weeds.
A humanitarian ceasefire brokered by US First Lady Melania Trump opened a four-hour evacuation window. A convoy of 25 buses carried evacuees through occupied territory to southern Russia, then Belarus, and finally to a military facility in Chernihiv. Some elderly passengers were too weak to walk and were carried on stretchers across the tarmac.
There were reunions. Mykhailo Palii's daughters sprinted across the tarmac in tears as he arrived. He admitted he had hidden much of what happened, including a blast that tore into the bathroom, because he did not want them to worry. Tetiana and Volodymyr arrived with a cat; their home had burned three years earlier, and they had since lived in a neighbour's abandoned house. Leaving was an easy choice for them.
Those who got out are thinking of the thousands still behind. Up to 6,000 people, including 200 children, are believed to remain in Oleshky and nearby areas. For the evacuees, the work now is rebuilding. Palii is ready for any labour, and Olha's family will stay with acquaintances while they find their footing. "If we managed to survive in hell," she said, "we'll survive here too."
Olha has one word for what the last few years in Oleshky were like: horror. She said it after stepping off a coach in Ukraine's Chernihiv region, with her husband Viacheslav, their son and daughter, and the family dog beside her. Viacheslav put it another way. "We came back from hell," he said.
The family were among hundreds of residents evacuated from the Russian-occupied city who crossed into northern Ukraine via Belarus on Saturday. Many were reunited with relatives they had not seen in years. Russia seized Oleshky in the first days of its full-scale invasion in February 2022, and the city has since been pinned between the Dnipro River on one side and Russian forces on the other.
Olha and Viacheslav lived there with their son and daughter, both in their 30s. As shelling around them grew heavier, they still feared that leaving might be deadlier than staying, since the routes out were mined and exposed to drone attack. When supplies ran short, the couple said, they crossed minefields earlier this month to look for food. "People were stepping on mines, dying and being maimed, all just to survive," Olha told the BBC. Those too frightened to leave their homes had resorted to cooking garden weeds.
The way out came earlier this week, when a humanitarian ceasefire brokered by US First Lady Melania Trump took effect in the Kherson region. It gave the area its first few days of peace in four years. Residents were given a four-hour window on Friday to leave. A convoy of 25 buses was sent in for up to 750 evacuees, along with ambulances for people with limited mobility.
The journey was long. Evacuees travelled through Russian-occupied territory to southern Russia, flew to Belarus, and then came by bus to a military facility in Chernihiv on Saturday. On the tarmac, where they were processed before moving on, some elderly residents were so weak they had to be carried on stretchers.
There were reunions. Mykhailo Palii's daughters, Dasha and Anya, had feared they might never see him again, and they sprinted across the tarmac screaming and crying as he arrived. After they embraced, Palii described some of what he had kept from them. "A hole was blown into the bathroom," he said. "There were drone attacks and missile strikes. It happened, but I didn't tell them about it because I knew they would worry."
Tetiana and Volodymyr arrived carrying a cat. Their home burned down three years ago, they said, and they had lived since in a neighbour's abandoned house. Leaving was an easy choice. "There's nothing for us to regret leaving," Tetiana said. They have no relatives in the city, and their married children live elsewhere.
Those who got out are thinking of those who did not. Up to 6,000 people, including 200 children, were believed to be still living in Oleshky and the surrounding areas, 1,700 of them in the city itself. "There are still a lot of people left there, living under those conditions," Olha said.
For the evacuees, the next problem is where to go and how to rebuild. Palii said he would look for work to support his family: "There's no job I can't handle. Digging, hoeing, planting, building. I can even do demolition work." Olha said her family has no relatives elsewhere in Ukraine and will stay with acquaintances for an extended period. "If we managed to survive in hell, we'll survive here too," she said.
Citations marquantes
People were stepping on mines, dying and being maimed, all just to survive.— Olha, evacuee from Oleshky
If we managed to survive in hell, we'll survive here too.— Olha, evacuee from Oleshky