Children of Wars and Ruins

Children of Wars and Ruins.

During my years our lives were overshadowed by war and earthquake. I would often hear about war: Transnistrian, Nagorno-Karabakh, and the Chechen wars. The specific details remain elusive to me. What I do know for certain is that we lost friends of our family to these battles. We rarely spoke openly about these as if trying to protect ourselves from the pain they inflicted.

The year 1988 left a mark on my life. I was a child when an earthquake shook our city. The memories I have are my mother's recollections; her dash from our trembling home while clutching me tightly urging a neighbor to seek safety. On that day my grandfather, who was a painter became trapped in his apartment in a high-rise building. By some miracle, he was rescued from the debris. Sadly his magnificent artworks were buried under ruins. A testament, to his talent, remained buried forever. The trauma he experienced haunted him every night. Tragically led him to never paint again. But he was teaching me and my sister to paint.

The aftermath of the earthquake was a sight. My childhood memories are filled with images of ruins and temporary shelters. We lived in an ancient fortress with my father, mother, grandparents, and uncle. I witnessed firsthand the toll it took on lives; despair, hunger, and unbearable pain. However, amidst darkness, hope persevered. The resilient spirit of Gyumri shone through as the city united in its efforts to rebuild itself after the disaster struck. Our home became a sanctuary for my grandparents and uncle during this time.
After waiting for many years my grandparents were finally granted an apartment when they reached their 80s. However, their time to relish it was unfortunately short-lived. Despite facing challenges both their resilience and the spirit of Gyumri city remained unwavering.

Fragment from the book "Born for Freedom".
Author ©Kristal Duval

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