Searching For The Missing In The Ruins Of Town Near Kyiv

Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where her son used to live on the third floor. The slow process is unbearable for the 65-year-old mother, whose own home was spared by the fighting. There's a gaping hole in the middle of the five-storey building, where the it was hit by a bomb dropped from a Russian plane on the evening of March 1, a few days after the start of the invasion. In a few seconds, the ten apartments that used to stand here were turned into a heap of concrete and twisted metal. "There were people in this building, it was night," says Antonia, wearing a brown coat and a blue woollen hat. Antonina sits alone on a chair in the corner of what used to be the building's garden. She holds a cane in front of her in both hands and rests her head on top, a sad, thoughtful look on her face as she watches the diggers do their work. "The people who stayed in the two blocks on the sides of the building were hurt but they're still alive," she says. "Those that stayed (in the middle section), they're all dead."

Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where her son used to live on the third floor. The slow process is unbearable for the 65-year-old mother, whose own home was spared by the fighting. There's a gaping hole in the middle of the five-storey building, where the it was hit by a bomb dropped from a Russian plane on the evening of March 1, a few days after the start of the invasion. In a few seconds, the ten apartments that used to stand here were turned into a heap of concrete and twisted metal. "There were people in this building, it was night," says Antonia, wearing a brown coat and a blue woollen hat. Antonina sits alone on a chair in the corner of what used to be the building's garden. She holds a cane in front of her in both hands and rests her head on top, a sad, thoughtful look on her face as she watches the diggers do their work. "The people who stayed in the two blocks on the sides of the building were hurt but they're still alive," she says. "Those that stayed (in the middle section), they're all dead."Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where her son used to live on the third floor. The slow process is unbearable for the 65-year-old mother, whose own home was spared by the fighting. There's a gaping hole in the middle of the five-storey building, where the it was hit by a bomb dropped from a Russian plane on the evening of March 1, a few days after the start of the invasion. In a few seconds, the ten apartments that used to stand here were turned into a heap of concrete and twisted metal. "There were people in this building, it was night," says Antonia, wearing a brown coat and a blue woollen hat. Antonina sits alone on a chair in the corner of what used to be the building's garden. She holds a cane in front of her in both hands and rests her head on top, a sad, thoughtful look on her face as she watches the diggers do their work. "The people who stayed in the two blocks on the sides of the building were hurt but they're still alive," she says. "Those that stayed (in the middle section), they're all dead."Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where her son used to live on the third floor. The slow process is unbearable for the 65-year-old mother, whose own home was spared by the fighting. There's a gaping hole in the middle of the five-storey building, where the it was hit by a bomb dropped from a Russian plane on the evening of March 1, a few days after the start of the invasion. In a few seconds, the ten apartments that used to stand here were turned into a heap of concrete and twisted metal. "There were people in this building, it was night," says Antonia, wearing a brown coat and a blue woollen hat. Antonina sits alone on a chair in the corner of what used to be the building's garden. She holds a cane in front of her in both hands and rests her head on top, a sad, thoughtful look on her face as she watches the diggers do their work. "The people who stayed in the two blocks on the sides of the building were hurt but they're still alive," she says. "Those that stayed (in the middle section), they're all dead."Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where her son used to live on the third floor. The slow process is unbearable for the 65-year-old mother, whose own home was spared by the fighting. There's a gaping hole in the middle of the five-storey building, where the it was hit by a bomb dropped from a Russian plane on the evening of March 1, a few days after the start of the invasion. In a few seconds, the ten apartments that used to stand here were turned into a heap of concrete and twisted metal. "There were people in this building, it was night," says Antonia, wearing a brown coat and a blue woollen hat. Antonina sits alone on a chair in the corner of what used to be the building's garden. She holds a cane in front of her in both hands and rests her head on top, a sad, thoughtful look on her face as she watches the diggers do their work. "The people who stayed in the two blocks on the sides of the building were hurt but they're still alive," she says. "Those that stayed (in the middle section), they're all dead."Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where her son used to live on the third floor. The slow process is unbearable for the 65-year-old mother, whose own home was spared by the fighting. There's a gaping hole in the middle of the five-storey building, where the it was hit by a bomb dropped from a Russian plane on the evening of March 1, a few days after the start of the invasion. In a few seconds, the ten apartments that used to stand here were turned into a heap of concrete and twisted metal. "There were people in this building, it was night," says Antonia, wearing a brown coat and a blue woollen hat. Antonina sits alone on a chair in the corner of what used to be the building's garden. She holds a cane in front of her in both hands and rests her head on top, a sad, thoughtful look on her face as she watches the diggers do their work. "The people who stayed in the two blocks on the sides of the building were hurt but they're still alive," she says. "Those that stayed (in the middle section), they're all dead."Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where her son used to live on the third floor. The slow process is unbearable for the 65-year-old mother, whose own home was spared by the fighting. There's a gaping hole in the middle of the five-storey building, where the it was hit by a bomb dropped from a Russian plane on the evening of March 1, a few days after the start of the invasion. In a few seconds, the ten apartments that used to stand here were turned into a heap of concrete and twisted metal. "There were people in this building, it was night," says Antonia, wearing a brown coat and a blue woollen hat. Antonina sits alone on a chair in the corner of what used to be the building's garden. She holds a cane in front of her in both hands and rests her head on top, a sad, thoughtful look on her face as she watches the diggers do their work. "The people who stayed in the two blocks on the sides of the building were hurt but they're still alive," she says. "Those that stayed (in the middle section), they're all dead."Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where her son used to live on the third floor. The slow process is unbearable for the 65-year-old mother, whose own home was spared by the fighting. There's a gaping hole in the middle of the five-storey building, where the it was hit by a bomb dropped from a Russian plane on the evening of March 1, a few days after the start of the invasion. In a few seconds, the ten apartments that used to stand here were turned into a heap of concrete and twisted metal. "There were people in this building, it was night," says Antonia, wearing a brown coat and a blue woollen hat. Antonina sits alone on a chair in the corner of what used to be the building's garden. She holds a cane in front of her in both hands and rests her head on top, a sad, thoughtful look on her face as she watches the diggers do their work. "The people who stayed in the two blocks on the sides of the building were hurt but they're still alive," she says. "Those that stayed (in the middle section), they're all dead."Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where her son used to live on the third floor. The slow process is unbearable for the 65-year-old mother, whose own home was spared by the fighting. There's a gaping hole in the middle of the five-storey building, where the it was hit by a bomb dropped from a Russian plane on the evening of March 1, a few days after the start of the invasion. In a few seconds, the ten apartments that used to stand here were turned into a heap of concrete and twisted metal. "There were people in this building, it was night," says Antonia, wearing a brown coat and a blue woollen hat. Antonina sits alone on a chair in the corner of what used to be the building's garden. She holds a cane in front of her in both hands and rests her head on top, a sad, thoughtful look on her face as she watches the diggers do their work. "The people who stayed in the two blocks on the sides of the building were hurt but they're still alive," she says. "Those that stayed (in the middle section), they're all dead."Borodyanka: In the small town of Borodyanka, not far from Kyiv, diggers sort through the rubble of houses destroyed by Russian bombardments, looking for the missing. Her eyes read from tears and lack of sleep, Antonina is watching as one picks through the remains of the building where