Day 15: A Diary from Stepanakert

By Lika Zakaryan

It already looks like Groundhog Day.

Stepanakert was not bombed, at least that is how it seems so far, since i’m still in the bunker.. The drones flew, fell, but I did not hear talk of victims. The weather was great today, but it was scary to go outside. Sometimes, it feels like I will never be able to go out into the street.

I woke up at midnight because I couldn’t sleep all night from yesterday’s heavy bombing. We can already distinguish the sounds – when it’s a Smertch, when it’s a drone, when it’s cluster bombs, and when ours hit the drone. It is very sad that we can all distinguish this. But what can we do? This is our reality today.

I learned that yesterday in Hadrut city, an Azerbaijani sabotage group entered people’s house, killed a mother and her son, who, by the way, is a person with disabilities… I can’t find words to express what I think about this … I was in Hadrut a few days ago, filming people in the shelters. There was a boy with disabilities, very cute, he wouldn’t stop hugging everyone, and everyone was angry with him because of this. I talked with his mother, a very nice woman. There is a video of her talking. Now I think, maybe this is all about them? .. Just thinking about it can make you crazy. I don’t dare ask my friends from Hadrut.

I keep track of days only when I am going to write the day’s post. We rarely look at the clock. It seems that for half a century I have not gone to the office, have not cooked vegetarian pizza, have not eaten Nutella on a crepe, and have not seen children in the city.

Today a friend suggested saving all this as an archive, like Anne Frank’s diary. We decided to do so and call it a diary. It helps to dispel the fear, thanks to a friend for the idea. In a few years, we’ll watch and read, tell the children and grandchildren.

I miss my everyday life when my relatives were near. When my friends were near.. My friends in Yerevan invite me to go and rest there a little. To be honest, I would gladly put my head on their lap and cry for hours. But we do not allow such luxuries. I will wait to cry and laugh together in our beloved city.

Photo: Levon Arshakyan