My granddaughter Jasmine turned three years old this fall. And I am extremely grateful that she is safe in our Vail home, though her pretty short life story had its share of events that no child should endure.
Jasmine and her parents, Aman Babanyyazov and Anastasiia, were among first Ukrainian refugees that came to the United States under the Uniting for Ukraine program in June of 2022. The program was designed to provide a pathway for Ukrainian citizens fleeing Russia’s full-scale invasion.
Jasmine was born in 2021 in Severodonetsk, one of the southeasternmost towns of Ukraine. She was born with a heart condition and doctors said she was not supposed to get upset. But she was surrounded by such love that we called her a happy baby who never cries. Her parents often brought their newborn baby girl in a pram to the local community park where they had planted trees before she was born.
But their happy life changed overnight on February 24, 2022. That night Russian troops invaded Ukraine on tanks and by airstrikes with missiles. Their hometown was under a heavy bombing attack. That was the beginning of the full-scale Russian invasion in Ukraine.
Since there was nowhere to hide, our family has been locked in the apartment. All the windows were covered with blankets and mattresses in the hope that it’ll save them from glass shatters. Baby Jasmine was transferred from a cozy crib with a cheerful musical carousel to a tiny pram placed in a dark hallway. Parents were on the floor next to the baby; a small backpack with the baby’s stuff and a small amount of food supplies were ready. They lived like this for a week, while here in Vail I was going crazy trying to find help. The whole week we were afraid, we waited for this to end, we hoped that this would end, and we did not know what to do.
On the first day of March they finally got the word that an evacuation train would be available. They spent nine long hours in a dark cold bomb shelter while the railways were checked for safety. Their journey was under constant shelling in a dark train, full of devastated people, pets, and crying children. The way which normally would have taken hours, turned out to be three long days. But the scariest thing was the sound of explosions. Even now Jasmine is afraid of noise and darkness.
Eventually, they got to the western border of Ukraine. Some family sheltered them in their home for a week. Jasmine turned six months there.
They were at a crossroad of the borders of Romania, Slovakia and Hungary. We did not know what to do, and where to go next. With the baby in arms it seemed too risky to go into the unknown. And then, my old friend Polina from Germany said: Let them come here, I’ll try to help.
They lived at the Franciscan monastery in Wurzburg, their temporary destination, for three months, while I called the US embassies and congressmen for help. Polina, Sister Beate, and other people helped them along the way with warm clothes and food, with kind words and sympathy. At the same time, their hometown in Ukraine was being liberated from people, their houses were being bombed and looted by Russian marauders.
My son and his family have traveled half the world to finally join us in Vail. They lost everything, and started anew. Their hometown in Ukraine was bombed and occupied by the Russian military two years ago. Our little Jasmine has a new home now. But, I have an older granddaughter Leili still in war-torn Ukraine waiting for the war to end. We pray that Ukraine will be saved from Russians, but every day the Ukrainians are dying from bombs and missiles. Hope dies last.
By Ayna Kekilova
Anya Kekilova is a local resident who moved to Vail in 2019. Her granddaughter will attend Vail schools when she is of age. Anya hopes her granddaughter will have a peaceful life in Vail and that her story will provide and inspiration to others.