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Neighborsby Said Khamzat NunuevSaipudin had never liked Svetlana Viktorovna, the schoolmistress. All they ever did was exchange a polite greeting if they happened to meet on the stairwell or out in the street. “She doesn’t like us Chechens.” Saipudin had said it many times. “She’s lived among us all her life, but she doesn’t fit in with our way of life. In all of ten years she’s never once knocked on the door. She has never asked us for salt or matches or a hammer. Why ever not? We Chechens all live together like one family. But she seems like a stranger. Perhaps she doesn’t feel at home.” No one could ever have thought it: no one could have expected or even imagined it. Even after hundreds of tanks had appeared on the streets of Grozny, no one could have foreseen that a multinational city would be turned into dust. As he fled through the town, now under bombardment, Saipudin did not want to take any risks. He took refuge in the cellar of his house, accompanied by his wife Malika, Ali, his sixteen-year-old son, and Prinesla, his three-year-old daughter. Other neighbours came to join them. Someone knocked a stove together out of red bricks. They chopped wood and made tea and soup. Everybody thought that the war would very soon be over. Then they would be able to go back up to their apartments that were still unplundered and undamaged. The five-story block where they lived was situated well away from the district where battle was raging. It had suffered nothing worse than stray bullets, shells and pieces of shrapnel. Things began to get better. If you were brave, you could go out to fetch water again. Someone said they would be giving out relief supplies at any time now. People really began to hope that the worst was over. But then, one evening, somebody came in off the street and reported that the Special Forces were beginning a so-called “mopping-up operation.” They were out hunting for Chechens and Ingush. “That’s impossible. It’s all just a rumor, nothing but misinformation. I don’t believe it.” Saipudin got very worked up. But people insisted, “You may say you don’t believe it, but they’ve already “mopped-up” in the next street. Less than an hour later, another rumor started. This rumor said that “mopping-up” had already begun in their street and that it would go on throughout the night. So it was essential for everyone to go upstairs, to return to their apartments, and to meet the Special Forces with open doors. Otherwise everything would be broken down, smashed up and set on fire. People hurried to get away. Saipudin was desperate. He had no idea what to do. Could his wife and children try to escape by fleeing across open ground between the apartment blocks Although the poor man was close to despair, he did not show it. Staring out into the darkness, he looked at his wife and children, bracing himself to recognize that he might never see them again. But suddenly a shape appeared out of the shadows. It was the angular, stooped figure of his neighbour Svetlana Viktorovna. She spoke quietly but firmly. “Saipudin, I am afraid to be on my own. Please will you all come upstairs and stay with me?” “With you? Why with you?” Saipudin did not understand. You must, I told you. I’m afraid. Let’s go. Malika! Ali! Let’s go. Bring your sister with you. Or give her to me and I’ll carry her.” The Special Forces broke into the stairwell at midnight. There had already been a deafening explosion in the cellar. It shook the walls, made plaster rain from ceilings, and shattered any glass that still clung to a window frame. The Special Force Commandos tramped upstairs in their heavy boots, wearing flak jackets and helmets. The women shouted: “ We live here! People live here!” “Your papers! Any Chechens or Ingush?” The red-haired commando was well over six feet tall.
Saipudin said nothing. He was ready to face anything except humiliation before the women and children. “Show me your papers!” The soldier shouted at Saipudin and his son. “Here’s my passbook. My son doesn’t have one yet. He’s only just 16.” Saipudin handed over his passbook. It took the soldier a long time to look through the book and find the place where it says “nationality.” “A Chechen” he said at last. “You come with me. Is the boy a Chechen too?” “What for? Where are you going? I’ll never let you take my husband away, or the boy either. If it’s really necessary, we’ll report to you at Headquarters tomorrow. Let me tell you this: the Regional Officer Commanding is a relation of mine. You see, lads, everything is quite normal here. These are my people. Sit down and have a rest. By God’s grace I’ll make you as welcome as I can.” The commando was yelling and playing with his gun. “I’ve lived all my life among these people. I’m ready to die with them. If you want to shoot, shoot me first. Shoot a schoolteacher who’s spent 28 years teaching children to be good and behave sensibly.” “All right. You can say alive.” The commando lowered his gun. “Let’s get out of here, lads.” Two years went by, and Grozny was back in the hands of Chechens. One night, Saipudin woke up his wife. “Listen! There’s shouting in Svetlana’s flat. Some kind of noise. Get dressed quickly. Let’s go and see what’s happening.” The noise got louder, the cries were more desperate. Saipudin didn’t even stop to dress properly. He rushed through his neighbor’s open door in shorts and a dressing gown, and what he saw shocked him. Two masked men with weapons had thrown Svetlana Viktorovna on to the floor and were trying to tie her up. A third masked man with a gun was standing at the door. Saipudin realised that these were typical young thugs who had already spread chaos through the city while pretending to be freedom fighters. “Let her go at once. Aren’t you ashamed? Don’t you fear God?” Saipudin yelled and rushed to save his neighbour. The man at the door moved the safety catch of his gun, and took aim at Saudipin’s head. If Ali and Malika had not rushed into the room at that very moment, he would have opened fire. They all rushed to Svetlana’s aid. The three of them managed to drag off the attackers. Other neighbours, hearing the noise, appeared on the scene. The three masked men realised what was happening and made for the door. But before they fled, the man who had moved his safety catch suddenly turned around and fired a single shot at Saipudin. The neighbours rushed to help, but they kept getting in each other’s way. The three masked criminals made their escape.
Saipudin and his family and Svetlana decided to spend the summer together, perhaps in the mountains, with Saipudin’s parents. There they would find hills, grassy meadows, honey, and flocks of sheep. Or it might be in the village by the Volga, where Svetlana’s aunt lives. There you can enjoy fish soup, wild berries and wide-open spaces. There’s plenty of room. Nobody need feel shut out so long as people keep their minds and hearts open to new things. Discussion Questions
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Svetlana Viktorovna came forward to meet him “All our papers are in order. There are no fighters here. This is my husband, Sasha. And these are his sister and her children.”
Within a month Saipudin was out of hospital, recovering at home.