Kyiv Under Siege, the Courage of Ukrainians, and an Unforgettable Story by Kateryna Babkina

I can't reach the Kyiv-based writer, but Babkina's story 'Kostia,' published here, offers hope that, as in the past, the resilience of the Ukrainian people will prevail over the barbarism of invaders.

A man walks past a building destroyed by a Russian rocket attack in Kyiv, Ukraine, Feb. 25, 2022. (AP Photo/Emilio Morenatti)

By Michael Judge

As the shocking photos and surreal video rolled in throughout the night—of missiles raining down and fires blazing in Kyiv, of bombed-out apartment buildings and firefights in the suburbs, of Ukrainians of all ages volunteering to fight the Russian invaders, even as thousands are displaced and forced to flee Vladimir Putin’s barbarism—my heart broke for those who believed “the West” would never allow this to happen. Most of all it broke for my newfound friend and TFP contributor Kateryna Babkina and her 14-month-old “baby toddler daughter.” I spoke with Babkina just last weekend from her home in Kyiv when she told me, in no uncertain terms: 

“The war between Russia and Ukraine isn’t about to start. It’s happening right now. . . All Ukrainians know someone who lost all their property in the east, who lost their business or home, their dog, their children . . . someone who had to leave during the night, and lost everything.”

“Now, just six days later, I can’t help thinking of Kateryna and her child being the ones ‘who had to leave during the night.’ I haven’t been able to reach her since the siege of Kyiv began and I can’t stop thinking about her and her ‘baby toddler daughter.’

Now, just six days later, I can’t help thinking of Kateryna and her child being the ones “who had to leave during the night.” I haven’t been able to reach her since the siege of Kyiv began and I can’t stop thinking about her and her “baby toddler daughter” and the stuffed animals I saw on their couch when Kateryna left our video call to answer the door. “Sorry, I should let my mother in,” she said. When she stood up for a few moments I saw behind her several small stuffed animals seated on the cushions and backrest of her couch, one of which appeared to be a rather skinny but well-worn teddy bear. And it dawned on me, in those few seconds face-to-face with a scraggly teddy and his silent friends, that this little family—mother, daughter, and granddaughter, had made a home together, a life together, that was peaceful and gentle and precious, and, like all our homes—whether we realize it or not—so very, very fragile. 

I’ve also come to realize how strong and resilient the human heart can be. Hanna Hopko, a former Ukrainian parliamentarian and one of the leaders of the Euromaidan protests that toppled Viktor Yanukovych’s corrupt pro-Russia regime in 2014, told NPR this week, “We will fight back because this is our historical mission to stop this evil empire. We survived during Stalin's time, when millions of Ukrainians were killed and genocide was organized against us. . . . So, of course, now with this full-scale war against us, there is no option for us because the victory of Ukraine is crucially important for the U.S., for the European Union, for everybody.” 

When asked if she was scared, Hopko replied, “No. I'm not scared because during my downtime, when . . . my colleagues, friends were kidnapped, tortured and even killed, so we already went through these painful times. It’s not time to be scared. Putin has to be scared because he is a little gangster with the heart full of fear. He's afraid of transatlantic unity. He is afraid of our optimistic spirit, that we will win and he will never return us back to Russia’s sphere of influence.”

Hopko, like Kateryna Babkina, has a daughter—an 11-year-old who loves her pet guinea pig, Nafanyah, and who had left Kyiv earlier for safety. The whole family is hopefully out of Kyiv by now and in a safe location, including the guinea pig, which Hopko had in tow when she left Kyiv to be with her daughter. 

Seeing one blackened shell of a Kyiv apartment building I was overcome with grief and terror when I thought to myself, “That could be Kateryna’s apartment; the home where she and her ‘baby toddler daughter’ and the child’s grandmother might have played, just a few days ago, with that scrawny teddy bear and the other stuffed animals.” As of this post, I still have no word from Kateryna Babkina and her 14-month-old daughter.