Liubov Dernova: Sweeping Away the Shadows of War in Oríhiv, Ukraine
In war-in-ukraine” title=”Ukraine War | Latest News & Updates| BBC News”>Oríhiv, Ukraine, Liubov Dernova Sweeps Away the Shadows of War
Liubov Dernova, 54, moves her broom with steady determination along Shevchenka Avenue in Oríhiv, a city in eastern Ukraine’s Zaporizhzhia region. Her rhythmic sweeping is the only sound that breaks the eerie silence of streets once bustling with life. Not a single piece of paper, plastic, or debris mars the pavement under her care. For Dernova, this is more than a job—it’s a lifeline.
Oríhiv, a city that once housed 21,000 residents, now stands largely abandoned. Since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion in February 2022, the front line has remained stagnant just eight kilometers away, leaving the city in ruins. Buildings are reduced to rubble, the air carries the acrid scent of burned plastic, and the distant rumble of shelling punctuates the quiet. Yet, amidst the devastation, Oríhiv refuses to fade entirely.
Dernova is one of just 800 residents who have chosen to stay. Her home, like nearly every other in the city, bears the scars of war. “The windows blew out, the door was ripped off, the roof collapsed,” she recounts. Her husband serves in the military, while her daughter and grandchildren fled to safety. Alone in her neighborhood, Dernova finds solace in her work. “I feel useful,” she says with a faint smile. “People sometimes tell me the streets are very clean, and that makes me feel good.”
Dernova’s resilience is mirrored by a small, tenacious community clinging to life in a city that has been pummeled by relentless bombardment. Oleksander Billeris, deputy head of Oríhiv’s Military Administration, explains that the local government’s capacity is limited to trash collection, humanitarian aid distribution, and paying the salaries of its few remaining employees, including Dernova.
On Shevchenka Avenue, the hum of activity is rare, but a small hub of life persists in the remnants of the local administration building. Once a stately structure, its pink facade is now riddled with shrapnel. Behind it, volunteers from NGOs like World Central Kitchen distribute food to a handful of residents. Nearby, retirees Nikola Sobko and Serhii Onischenko share a cigarette and a dark laugh. “Work? There’s zero work here!” Onischenko chuckles.
Elsewhere, a makeshift street market offers a glimpse of normalcy—or what passes for it. Four wooden tables display sparse collections of fruit, vegetables, and household essentials. Natalia, who sells military gear, and Marina Savinova, who offers cleaning supplies and kitchenware, are among the few vendors. Both women have lost much. Natalia’s home was obliterated, while Savinova’s family-owned shops were reduced to twisted metal.
Savinova, who commutes daily from Zaporizhzhia, finds strength in her work. “I feel a lot of energy and adrenaline coming here,” she says, though her humor masks a deeper sorrow. “Before the invasion, our children took painting and dance classes. Now we have nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
Oríhiv’s destruction is staggering. Billeris describes how Russian forces unleashed a barrage of guided bombs and artillery, targeting the city with industrial-scale precision. In one day alone, 330 bombs fell. The Konka River bridge, a vital access point, was hit by 70 shells. “They’ve tried to reduce the city to rubble to make it easier to take,” Billeris explains.
Yet, Oríhiv endures. Though Russian forces continue reconnaissance operations, the city remains under Ukrainian control. “Our boys will never let them take it,” Savinova declares with quiet confidence. Dernova echoes her resolve. “They don’t need Oríhiv—they just want to get to Zaporizhzhia. But this is my home, and I’m not leaving.”
As she speaks, the sound of distant explosions echoes through the streets. Dernova doesn’t flinch. “I’ve learned the difference between incoming and outgoing bombs,” she says. “At first, I spent seven months hiding in my basement. Now, I’ve gotten used to it.”
Her voice breaks only when she reflects on the city she’s known all her life. “I see these streets, and I cry. Everything is destroyed,” she whispers, wiping away tears. Still, she remains steadfast. “They said it would be just a few weeks—three at most—before things calmed down. Everyone else left, but I’m still here, waiting for it to end.”
In the heart of Oríhiv, where the echoes of war drown out the whispers of normalcy, Liubov Dernova’s broom sweeps not just debris, but also the shadows of despair. Her unwavering dedication to keeping the streets clean is a poignant symbol of resilience and hope in a city that has been relentlessly battered by conflict. While the physical scars of war are evident—crumbled buildings, shattered windows, and the ever-present threat of shelling—Dernova’s spirit remains unbroken. She, along with the few hundred residents who have chosen to stay, embodies the indomitable will of a community steadfast to endure.
Though oríhiv’s streets are eerily quiet and it’s future uncertain, the persistence of people like Dernova offers a glimmer of light in the darkness.Her work is a testament to the power of small,meaningful acts in the face of unimaginable adversity. As the city waits for peace, her broom continues to move, not just cleaning Shevchenka Avenue, but also sweeping away the remnants of defeat. In this act of quiet defiance, Oríhiv finds a way to hold on—not just as a place on a map, but as a symbol of resilience, hope, and the unyielding human spirit.
Conclusion
In the heart of Oríhiv, where the echoes of war reverberate through shattered streets and hollowed-out homes, Liubov Dernova’s broom sweeps not just debris, but the shadows of despair. Her quiet resilience is a testament to the indomitable spirit of a city—and a nation—refusing to be erased. Though the scars of conflict are etched deep into Oríhiv’s landscape, the determination of its remaining residents illuminates a path toward hope and perseverance.
From the stoic humor of retirees like Nikola Sobko and Serhii Onischenko to the unwavering commitment of vendors like Natalia and Marina Savinova, oríhiv’s people embody a collective defiance against the forces that seek to destroy their way of life. Their stories are a poignant reminder that even in the face of unimaginable loss, humanity endures.
As Ukraine continues to fight for its sovereignty, Oríhiv stands as a microcosm of the nation’s struggle and strength. The city may lie in ruins, but its spirit remains unbroken. In the steady rhythm of Dernova’s broom, in the resilient laughter of its people, and in the small acts of normalcy that persist, Oríhiv whispers a powerful truth: even in the darkest times, light finds a way to shine.
