Today, March 31, 2025, marks the third anniversary of the liberation of Bucha – a city that has become a haunting emblem of Russian occupation’s brutality. Thirty-three black days. Over 420 innocent civilians – men, women, children – tortured, shot, and slaughtered by Russian beasts. Why? Because they could. Because for them, human life is nothing, and cruelty is their natural state. These words are hard to write, but even harder to keep from screaming – out of pain, out of rage, out of helplessness before the sheer scale of grief these monsters brought to our land.

Bucha is no longer just a dot on the map. It’s a wound that bleeds in the heart of every Ukrainian. Here, on quiet streets once filled with the hum of children’s bicycles and the scent of freshly baked bread, Russian occupiers staged their blood-soaked feast. They didn’t just kill – they reveled in suffering. Hands tied, heads pierced by bullets, bodies mutilated – this is their “russian world,” delivered to us with tanks and artillery. And the world saw it. Saw it – and shuddered.

Today, Bucha hosts not only our tears and prayers. Alongside the President of Ukraine stand representatives from nearly every European Union nation. They’ve come to honor the fallen, to express their condolences. But is that enough? It’s easy to sympathize when your children sleep in warm beds, not cowering from bombs in basements. It’s easy to mourn when your streets aren’t littered with the tortured dead. The world is taking a test right now – not in words, but in deeds. These people, our people, gave their lives not just for Ukraine’s freedom – they died so that civilization wouldn’t tumble into an abyss where Russia’s horde trades oil and gas with blood still dripping from its hands.

Hell on earth is no metaphor. It’s the reality of Ukrainian towns and villages under Russian occupation. Bucha, Irpin, Mariupol, Kherson – wherever the Russian “liberator” set foot, death, ruins, and despair followed. Yet amid this inferno, we see light – the unbreakable spirit of our people. Those who endured, who survived, who remain trapped in occupied lands cling to faith and hope. They need our strength, our voices, our fight. They need victory – not tomorrow, not someday, but as soon as humanly possible, because every day under Russia’s boot is another soul lost.

I, like every Ukrainian, cannot hold back my hatred for these invaders. They are not human – they are predators, feeding on others’ blood for centuries. Their empire is built on the bones of nations, and Ukraine became their latest prey to crush. But we didn’t yield. Bucha is not just our pain – it’s our pride. Even in those darkest 33 days, people resisted, hid each other, saved each other, prayed. And we prevailed.

To the fallen – honor and eternal memory. Their names must be etched not only in stone but in the heart of anyone who dares call themselves human. Their deaths are not just a tragedy – they are a call to the world: stop this evil before it engulfs us all. Strength and faith to those still under occupation – we will not forget you, we will fight for you with our last breath. And to the Russian butchers – one thing only: justice will find you. If not here, then where no one can hide from the hellfire you yourselves ignited.

Bucha remembers. Ukraine remembers. And we will not forgive.