Eile hommikul lapsele hommikusööki andes tekkis masendus. Olin just lugenud Holodomoris ellujäänud inimeste mälestusi. 7-10 miljonit nälga surnud inimest, mõnes Ukraina maakonnas üle 25% elanikest – see on ju vaid statistika. Iga numbri ja protsendi taga on tragöödia ning genotsiidi jubedusest saab aru ehki vaid siis, kui süveneda mõnda üksikjuhtumisse. Või ei suuda me, heaoluühiskonna liikmed, üldse endale ette kujutada toimunut?
Liiga sageli arvame, et meie endi rahvas on ajaloos kõige enam kannatanud ja seetõttu otsime mõistmist ja kaastunnet. Selle saamiseks peaksime ka ise (vähemalt püüdma) mõista teiste rahvuste kannatusi ning teadma, et kommunismi halastamatu režiimi all kannatasid ukrainlased ja valgevenelased vähemalt sama palju.
Eile hommikul tekkis mõttes küsimus, et mida ma teeksin, kui elaks ukraina kolkakülas aastal 1932 ja hommikuselt unine laps valab pisaraid tühja pudrukaussi… Ja nii juba nädal ja lohutust ei paista tulevat… Kui hulluks peab nälg mind tegema, et olen valmis kahvli oma lapsesse lööma, millest räägivad näljahäda üleelanud ukrainlased…
1932-1933 korraldas stalinlik režiim kunstliku näljahäda, mille Nõukogude Liit muidugi maha salgas ja sellest rääkimise eest võis vangi minna. Tänane vene võimuladvik jätkab salgamise poliitikat ja võitleb Ukraina püüdluse vastu nimetada Holodomor genotsiidiks rahvusvahelise õiguse mõttes. Eesti toetab seda!
Selleks, et mõista Holodomori jubedust soovitan kõigil esiteks minna täna kell 15:00 Okupatsioonide muuseumisse, kus Ukraina saadkond avab genotsiidi käsitleva näituse. Loodan, et see jääb üles vähemalt paariks nädalaks. Teiseks soovitan lugeda näljahäda läbielanud inimeste meenutusi:
Where did all bread disappear, I do not really know, maybe they have taken it all abroad. The authorities have confiscated it, removed from the villages, loaded grain into the railway coaches and took it away someplace. They have searched the houses, taken away everything to the smallest thing. All the vegetable gardens, all the cellars were raked out and everything was taken away. Wealthy peasants were exiled into Siberia even before Holodomor during the “collectivization” . Communists came, collected everything. Children were crying beaten for that with the boots. It is terrifying to recall what happened. It was so dreadful that every day became engraved in the memory, every day and night calls to mind. My son-in-law remembered how he couldn’t bear the sight of dead people he had to throw into the same grave, so he turned away. People were lying everywhere as dead flies. The stench was awful. Many of our neighbors and acquaintances from our street died. I have no idea how I managed to survive and stay alive. And in 1933 we tried to survive the best we could. We collected grass, goose-foot, burdocks, rotten potatoes and made pancakes, soups from putrid beans or nettles. Collected gley from the trees and ate it, ate sparrows, pigeons, cats, dead and live dogs. When there was still cattle, it was eaten first, then - the domestic animals. Some were eating their own children, I would have never been able to eat my child. One of our neighbours came home when her husband, suffering from severe starvation ate their own daughter - a baby-born. This woman went crazy.
People were drinking a lot of water to fill stomachs, that is why the bellies and legs were swollen, the skin became was swelling from water too.
At that time the punishment for a stolen handful of grain was 5 years of prison. One was not allowed to go into the fields, the sparrows were pecking grain, though people were not allowed.
(From the memories of Olexandra Nykyforivna Rafalska, born in 1910, Zhytomir).
The winter of 1932-33 was very snowy… the crops were worse than usual, but the norms of collection of agricultural products did not change. The famine began. People were eating cats, dogs in the Ros’ river all the frogs were caught out. The collective farm workers who had the strength to work were given the size (flour, dissolved in water) and one scoop. Children were gathering insects in the fields and died swollen. Stronger peasants were forced to collect take the dead to the cemeteries; they were stocked on the carts like firewood, than dropped off into one big pit. The dead were all around: on the roads, near the river, by the fences. I used to have 5 brothers. Altogether 792 souls have died in our village during the famine, in the war years – 135 souls
(From the memories of Antonina Stepanivna Meleshchenko, born in 1920, village of Kosivka, region of Kyiv).
I remember Holodomor very well, but have no wish to recall it. There were so many people dying then. They were lying out in the streets, in the fields, floating in the flux. My uncle lived in Derevka – he died of hunger and my aunt (his wife) went crazy – she ate her own child. At the time one couldn’t hear the dogs barking – they were all eaten up.
(From the memories of Galina Andryivna Smyrna, born 1923, village Uspenka of Dniepropetrovsk region).
We lived in Obukhiv, Kyiv region. Father was a wealthy farmer that is why they had taken everything from the house. And there were four kids. Then we received the indication to take our cow to Vasylkiv, we were forced to give it. And our horse died of hunger. Our father died first, then the younger brother. We suffered till it became warm outside, the hunger was awful, because we had nothing left. Only wild grass was growing in the vegetable garden. My seven-year old brother died, then in two weeks – my last brother. The two of us - my mother and myself were left alone.
One woman – Seredyna – has eaten her own child.
(From the memories of Oksana Andryivna Lagodenko, born 1921, region of Kyiv).
At that time I lived in the village of Yaressky of the Shishatsky district of the Poltava region. More than a half of the village population was perished as a result of the famine of 1933. It was terrifying to walk through the village: moaning and swollen people, the dying and the dead. The bodies of the dead were buried together, because there was no one to dig the graves. There were no dogs and no cats. People died at work; it was of no concern whether your body was swollen, whether you could work, whether you had eaten, whether you could – you had to go and work. Otherwise – you are the enemy of the people. Many people never lived to see the crops of 1933 and those crops were considerable. A more severe famine, other sufferings were awaiting ahead. Rye was starting to become ripe. Those who were still able made their way to the fields. This road, however, was covered with dead bodies, some could not reach the fields, some ate grain and died right away.
Аnd the patrol were hunting down, collecting everything, trampled down the collected spikelets, beat the people, came into their homes, seized everything. What they could not take – they burned.
(From the memories of Galina Mefodyivna Gubenko, born 1922, Poltava region).
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