ZOLOTE, Ukraine — A dozen elderly women in Ukrainian folk costumes stroll past crumbling houses, singing along to the sound of an accordion.
The passersby smile when they see this rare entertainment in the mining town of Zolote, which suffers both from endemic poverty and Russia’s war against Ukraine. The town of 14,000 is located 700 kilometers southeast of Kyiv and just miles from the front line. The only working coal mine here is on the verge of closure.
These babushkas — a common Russian-language term for elderly women in the post-Soviet world — say they sing to forget about war, illness and loneliness. Their choir, which meets for rehearsals every week, is called Nadiya, or “Hope” in Ukrainian.
Some of them walk with canes or hold their backs because of pain. And Liliya Kunchenko, the choir leader and accordion player, encourages them to keep up the pace.
“Remember, girls, the spectators shouldn’t feel pity for the performers,” she tells them. “Don’t be afraid. We are walking under the clear sky, nothing is falling on our heads, thank God.”
Hard lives
The elderly women stop and have a rest on benches by the local community center, an old white three-story building with pillars, where Soviet symbols have been covered with a picture of a huge blue and yellow Ukrainian flag.
Back in 2001, the choir first convened at the community center. It was created by eight enthusiastic women who joined forces to solve the town’s problems with heating and water supply. In their free time, these women started singing Ukrainian and Russian folk songs as well as songs about the land of Luhansk, glorifying the hard lives of factory workers and coal miners.
“Oh my beloved Luhansk land, you are the best thing in my life. You are welcoming and desirable to everyone. I’m happy to work on this land,” they sing in one of their biggest hits.
Later, more members joined the choir. They became locally popular and started traveling to different towns in Donbas to give concerts.
In 2014, when Russia launched its war in eastern Ukraine and Zolote became an epicenter of the fighting, the choir stopped performing. Many of its participants had to leave town. But as the situation reached a shaky equilibrium, they met again in 2016 and started singing in the unheated community center, despite cold weather and the sound of shelling nearby.
Valentyna Mashchenko, 82, has been a member of Nadiya from the very beginning. She says singing has always given her strength in life. Despite her gentle nature, Mashchenko worked for decades as a crane operator at a brick plant. She had three husbands, one of whom was killed in a coal mining accident.
“My life has been like a front line,” she said. “I have often cried into my pillow at home and then hurried to choir rehearsals.”
Land of pensioners
Though they have similar costumes, each woman adds bright beads, brooches and colorful make-up to her outfit. Their life stories also have many similarities. They had difficult childhoods during the Second World War, rough adult lives working in Soviet plants and coal mines and an uneasy retirement amid Russia’s war, which has taken more than 13,000 lives.
“I saw war during my childhood and now I am seeing it again when I’m old,” said Olga Kamziuk, 79. She joined the choir in 2016. Before joining, she was lonely. Her children lived far away. Now, she says she has found many friends among the singers.
The women admit they still occasionally hear the sounds of shooting or shelling in Zolote. One-fifth of the town is now under Russian control, and at least seven civilians have been killed there since the beginning of the war, media reports indicate. Every resident has his or her own war story.
Valentyna Chernova, 73, said two shells hit her house in 2015 and she was lucky to escape at the last minute. Chernova says she still hasn’t recovered from the stress she endured. But even though she walks with a cane and has to take a bus to get to the rehearsals, she tries not to miss any of them.
“I would go mad without this choir,” she says.
Out of 3.4 million people living in the war-torn Donbas, more than 1 million are over 60. This is the “highest percentage of elderly affected by a crisis in the world,” according to estimates by the United Nations office for the coordination of humanitarian affairs.
Participants in the choir smile before they start singing during a rehearsal on Sept. 11, 2019, in Zolote. While wearing Ukrainian ethnic costumes, each of them adds bright beads, brooches and colorful make-up to her outfit. (Oleg Petrasiuk)
Giving life meaning
In 2016, a local volunteer, Nina Predilia, heard this choir singing in a community center and couldn’t resist joining them. Predilia invited the elderly singers to hold their rehearsals in her small but heated office until the community center was repaired. She also applied on their behalf to the United Nations Development Program and won several grants to support this choir, which allowed them to start traveling to other parts of eastern Ukraine to give concerts.
“Once in Severodonetsk, the spectators would not let them go. We went to sing in a park, and the passers-by started singing together with us,” Predilia remembers. Now, this choir has registered its own non-governmental organization: Golden Hope.
The elderly singers sometimes argue and occasionally tease each other. When Kunchenko, the choir leader, asked them during a rehearsal to recall waiting for their fiancés to return from long trips or military service, one of them said: “Yes, I did. It was Stepan, my first boyfriend.” Another woman wondered aloud: “Tell me: How many did you have in total?” “About 100,” the first woman answered, provoking a laugh from the group.
Not all the singers are technically babushkas. Inna Chertoplias is just 48. Living with a disability since childhood, she grew lonely when all her relatives left Zolote because of the war. She found out about the choir when they were singing in a local church, and Chertoplias says she often calls other members and receives support from them.
“They are like my second mothers,” she says.
Mykola Bryzgalov, 72, is the only man in the choir. He doesn’t sing, but instead performs humorous poems during breaks between the songs. He says he joined the choir because he was feeling very lonely after the death of his wife. Now with a new hobby, he can break free of his daily routine and dress up for the rehearsals, which is important for the lonely man.
“My life has taken on more meaning,” he says.
Anna Shevkoplias, 89, a former coal mine worker, is the oldest member in the choir. Her hands sometimes tremble when she speaks, but Shevkoplias never refuses the long trips by bus for the concerts.
“It gives me youth. I’m energetic here,” she says.
This choir often performs at local weddings and celebrations. Next year, they plan to hold a grandiose celebration for Shevkoplias’ 90th birthday.
Kunchenko says the regular concerts motivate her singers to take care of themselves. “They wear beads, they wear makeup not only to the rehearsals, but even when they just go to the shop,” she says. “They look younger than their peers.”
