In this vignette, Victor Sergeyev of Mikolayiv, Ukraine recalls a spring visit to Kyiv in April 1986, a trip meant only for routine work courses that unfolded into something far more ominous.
He describes the city as it was before the truth emerged — the blossoms, the streets, the ordinary rhythms — and the first small signs that something was wrong in Chornobyl and Prypiat.
His memories trace the shift from rumours to certainty: the sudden appearance of water hoses across the city, shelves stacked with red wine, round‑the‑clock public showers, frantic searches for dosimeters, and the quiet panic of people trying to leave Kyiv.
Forty years later, the events he describes still stand as a record of that spring — and as a reminder that the Soviet regime collapsed under its own weight, while many wait for that history to repeat itself with the russian regime.
","author_name":"Paulette MacQuarrie"}