By Joseph Nichols,
Eastern Ukraine
Three months into the war, Lviv residents are now well acquainted with the air raid procedure. In addition to the sirens, a warning app rings to announce a possible imminent strike. When this happens, wherever they are and whatever they are doing, people take shelter underground.
There is no subway in Lviv, but bunkers are plentiful, with the more modern buildings preventively equipped with functional subterranean replicas of the outer world, including chairs, benches and sometimes a kitchen. There is little panic — people simply head underground to the nearest shelter. Some come in groups, others alone. Some happen to be passing by when the alarm goes off, while others live in the building.
All find a way to keep busy for the duration of the alarm, which can last from a few minutes to several hours. If it’s nighttime, some bring a sleeping bag, while others carry a thermos and a book. This is a new normal which Ukrainians have grown accustomed to.
Another witness to the times, a few minutes’ drive away from the city center, is Lviv’s central train station. The monumental art nouveau building has become the symbol of the plight of Ukrainians escaping the war.
Behind the beautiful, majestic wooden doors that adorn its entrance, the station is now a hub of misery, tears and broken dreams. Here, day and night, crowds of people transit in search of a better life. Since the beginning of the war, women, children and the elderly have been pouring in from the regions hardest hit by the fighting. Every train brings new stories of homes and lives left behind, by people who arrive weakened and shocked by what they have been through.
Lviv, a city of a little over 700,000 inhabitants, has seen a huge population increase since February 24. Hundreds of thousands of refugees have arrived in the city in the months since the war broke out, with some estimates saying Lviv now has three times as many inhabitants. In total, throughout Ukraine, 7.1 million people have been internally displaced, according to the UN refugee agency. Five million have sought refuge in neighboring countries.
Among the displaced is Vira, an elderly woman. She’s in tears, having just arrived from Lyman, in the embattled Donetsk region.
“Two days ago, our village got bombed, and we were forced to leave,” she said. “I don’t know what else to say apart from: let Ukrainians live! Nobody supports this war. All of our children are hiding in basements all day. There is no light, no internet connection, we don’t know what will happen next and what else we should do!”
Vira is among the lucky ones. She will stay with her daughter who lives near Lviv. But many arriving in Lviv are lost, and without any prospects. All of them hope to be able to return home one day. But for locals and displaced persons alike, nowhere in Ukraine feels safe anymore.