Moldova, on the border with Ukraine, the stories of the horrors of a war that does not want to end

PALANCA (Moldova) – There is no end. Since February 24, the day of the war, there are those who are hardly counting the number of deaths and injuries among children. There are more than a thousand. Many more. But behind the numbers, you know, there are the stories of broken families, twisted lives and dreams destroyed forever. It is the horror of war. We are in Palanca, in Moldova, on the border with Ukraine a few kilometers away is Odessa. Here, too, fear is in the air, because war will come soon, even here we hear people say. And we hear it from both Russian and Ukrainian pro-Ukrainians. The terror is the same.

Supermarket bags full of memories. People arrive at customs with trolleys and huge plastic bags, those found in supermarkets. They contain everything, even family items loaded with memories. And there are also dogs, cats, also fleeing the missiles that continue to boom from afar. For these people, journeys last days and days, women holding their children or elderly parents by the hand. But most of the old folks stayed in Ukraine. Others take the opposite route, return to Ukraine facing fear, hoping to find the place where they were born intact.

The testimonials. Numerous associations of volunteers and international NGOs have activated themselves by setting up counters with first aid and food items: hot focaccia and tea, but above all by guaranteeing indispensable psychological support to those who have lost everything. From Palanca buses leave for all of Moldova, where refugees are taken to safe places, many will continue to other European destinations, some have brothers and friends waiting for them, others have no one. A woman, crying, says: “Starting a life from scratch and not even knowing who is hosting you is really difficult, believe me. I have my sick mother who needs treatment, but where do I take her? school, but he doesn’t know where.

The chalk drawings on the wet road. Most children, especially the youngest ones, do not realize what is happening: a ball, a piece of chalk to draw on the wet road, play hide and seek, it doesn’t take much … Vittoria says: “In the end you get used to everything, to the roar of bombs and missiles, to the earth shaking. My little son first wanted to sleep with me, now he lies in his bed, for him all this is normal. It’s terrible, I’m really afraid. this is war.