For Kyiv residents, even feeding a cat has become a complicated risk as Russia invades Ukraine
CBC
As the minutes ticked down Saturday to the start of a weekend curfew in Kyiv, Lydia Sokolova was one of the few ordinary citizens out on the streets of the Ukrainian capital.
Her mission — to feed her son's cat — was more than worth any risk, she says. At 74, she appears determined not to let the threat of a Russian invasion instil any sense of panic in her.
"I am not going to a shelter," said Sokolova. "We live in an apartment. My mom is very old though. She'll be 97 soon, so I am taking care of her. Right now I am going to feed my son's cat."
Sokolova's desire to keep life as normal as possible aside, her journey through a city that feels like a ghost town offers a sense of how quickly and completely day-to-day life in Kyiv has been turned on its head since the Russian invasion began Thursday.
Considerations about feeding a family cat now have to take into account curfews, air-raid sirens and the uncertainty of when and where Russian troops might enter the capital.
And while Sokolova might be choosing to stay above ground, many others have gone underground and remained there. Hotel car parks, basements and Kyiv's underground stations are all serving as temporary bomb shelters.
WATCH | Kyiv residents hunker down as curfew takes effect:
"I never, ever believed [it was possible]," said Kate Savinna, 33, about her city being the possible target of an invasion.
Sitting with her dog Toufi on her lap in the underground car park of a hotel in the centre of the capital, she adds: "We were like, 'No one will do something like that in Kyiv.' We thought that something might happen around the borders or occupy [areas close to others already] occupied."
Savinna and her partner, Taras Baran, aren't guests at the hotel, but a friend of theirs is. When the air-raid sirens started wailing across the capital earlier this week, the couple didn't feel safe in the apartment they share close to Kyiv's main airport where there's been intense fighting.
"It definitely feels much safer than staying home alone, like in your apartment," said Baran, 26, who's an architect.
"It feels much safer here. And then also, as we decided, like to stay the first night in Kyiv, the things were getting worse and worse."
The couple has been sleeping on a mattress brought to them by their friend. Given the curfew, they've had to teach Toufi to make do with quick toilet breaks.
The car park has become a temporary home to an assortment of Ukrainians, foreign journalists and workers from an international aid agency, which has set up shop in one corner of the garage.