Updated April 12, 2024 at 6:45 p.m.*
MELITOPOL — The recent presidential elections in Russia have been the most rigged to date. According to Russia’s Central Election Commission, 87.3% of voters inside Russia voted for Vladimir Putin, and almost everywhere in the occupied territories support has supposedly exceeded 90%.
At the same time, the Russian authorities do not speak about any signs of protest or local resistance. One of the most well-known resistance movements in Ukraine is the women’s movement “Zla Mavka.” In Ukrainian folklore, Mavkas are maidens who lives in forests, caves, mountains or bodies of water. They lure men in with their beauty and then drag them into a pool.
Born in the Ukrainian city of Melitopol, which was captured by the Russians on Feb. 25, 2022, the resistance organizes campaigns in all major occupied cities.
Vazhnyye Istorii (Important Stories) spoke with one of the founders of “Mavka” about how the lives of women are changing under occupation, what kind of campaigns they are running, how they manage to carry them out under conditions of almost total control and why even in times of war, the partisans are not ready to commit murder.
We do not name the woman over concerns for her safety.
Dangerous liaisons under occupation
From the very beginning of the occupation of Melitopol, people (including my friends and I) came out to protest en masse. We had thought that we would be able to go out at that moment and drive away the invaders. Even when they began dispersing the rallies and people were abducted, we still continued to believe that it would not last for long. After the liberation of Kherson, we thought every day: “Maybe tomorrow we will be freed too?”
Many in the city tried to protest in some way: flags of Ukraine were everywhere in the streets, and “Glory to Ukraine!” graffiti, and pro-Ukrainian flyers.
Then the occupiers began to tighten the screws with more force: checking on people in the streets; raids and then the arrests began, people disappeared, and instead of trials it was torture “in the basements.”
Somewhere around the first anniversary of the occupation, the feeling that this would be happening for a long time arose. Life froze and turned into Groundhog Day. The protest went underground.
New passports
The occupiers forced almost everyone to take Russian passports. But what else was there for us to do? We want to reach liberation, but they did everything to make it physically impossible to survive without a passport.
You cannot, for example, call an ambulance or get medicine without it. Interesting real estate games have begun. If no one lives in an apartment, the occupiers seize it for themselves. But the man has been saving up for it his whole; he has nothing else. If you want to sell it and at least get your money back, please!
We need to come and get the Russian documents. Because of this, many fear that when Ukraine returns, they will be arrested [for having a Russian passport]. My friends and I tried to explain that no one will be arresting anyone if you do not help the occupiers.
It’s frightening to attract the attention of soldiers
Living under occupation is difficult, but for women it is doubly dangerous. Russian soldiers behave as though they are the kings of life; they can do as they like. They drink a lot, pick up girls on the street, and can grab you by the hand and drag you off somewhere.
I remember there was an incident when a car full of military was coming down the street, and seeing a girl, they slammed on the brakes, and began shouting at her: “Come here, babe.” This girl has no choice, just like any of us. You never know how people with weapons will react to a refusal to get acquainted. You just join them and hope that you can avoid a trip with the military.
Whatever happened to that girl next, I do not know. If I had stayed to watch, I might have aroused suspicion. And it’s frightening to attract the attention of soldiers. It feels like about half of the residents of Melitopol now go out into the streets as inconspicuously as possible. I have already forgotten what it means to dress nicely and put on makeup – I don’t want to attract their attention. I don’t even remember the last time I put on a dress and went for a walk around the city.
Machine guns and flowers
It sounds funny, but we founded our guerrilla movement in the kitchen. On the eve of the first anniversary of the full-scale war, in February 2023, we sat with our friends and discussed our lives. Each of us had built up a lot of anger. We simply could no longer get by in such mayhem. And somehow, we came up with the idea that it would be cool to do a female resistance group. Why not?
At that time, the occupiers did not expect that the underground movement could be female; they checked mainly men. And we, the girls, wanted to convey a lot to them.
As March 8 approached, we were sure that soldiers would walk around Melitopol and give tulips to women. Then we came up with a flier: “We don’t want flowers, give us back Ukraine.” We wanted to find a strong female mythological figure for this campaign and for our entire movement. And they immediately remembered the Ukrainian Mavka. We decided that Mavkas against orcs would be cool, like in Mortal Kombat!
If he wants to he will kill you, if he wants to he will rape you. Of course you take the flower and say thank you.
The artist painted a Mavka hitting a soldier with a bouquet. We posted flyers around the city. As we had expected, on March 8, the soldiers walked around with tulips. When a man with a machine gun comes up to you and offers you a flower, you cannot say: “Ugh, gross, I don’t want it!” This is a man with a weapon who can do whatever he wants to you: if he wants to he will kill you, if he wants he will rape you. Of course you take the flower and say thank you.
Still, that day we already knew that we had found our voice, and could tell the occupiers what we really think.
Counterfeit rubles
Over time, the conditions in the city became harsher. The occupiers began to tap phones, surveillance cameras appeared on every pole, and they developed a system of informants in the city. People who have known each other all their lives now try not to talk with each other about anything at all, because someone could be bought, someone could be threatened. If a person was “in the basement,” he will not talk about it until he is outside the occupation zone. You can say some stray word in the street, and the next day they will come for you.
And so we decided that the main thing in our partisan movement was security. I can’t say anything specific about our actions, I’ll only note that we explain how to use the phone and check the city for zones where the camera does not see you.
The core of girls with whom our movement began is in Melitopol, and we don’t know the rest. It’s safer for both us and them. We are active on social networks to scale our campaigns to other occupied cities. Anyone who wants to do something against the occupiers writes to us in an anonymous form or bot. They can’t verify who we are, just like we can’t verify who they are. We can send them flyers and campaign examples. In response, the girls send us photos from their protests.
When there were fewer cameras, we hung up a lot of flyers. Now we need to come up with alternative methods of protest.
We started making counterfeit rubles to use as a ruse. Our artist made a fifty-ruble bill that looks very natural from afar. The Russians see this paper, pick it up, and unfold it, but a Ukrainian Mavka with a trident is drawn on it with the words: “This is not your Russia, you are in Ukraine.” We don’t want the occupiers to forget for a minute where they are and that they are not welcome here.
Our bills can be scattered around, left on a bench in the park, dropped on the street or in a store. This is much safer and easier than putting up a flyer. The only complication is in production – you must have a color printer at home. To be honest, this is my favorite form of protest.
For 10-year anniversary of Crimea’s occupation, we made our own design for a 200-ruble bill, which already depicts Crimea – here God himself has simply ordered it. They wrote “Crimea is Ukraine” in Ukrainian on one side, and on the other they drew a sinking Russian ship. Women from different Crimean cities sent photographs of these bills and, following our example, they spread them around the city.
No access to news
There is virtually no access to news here. We sit in telegram channels and read Ukrainian news, but our older generation is left one-on-one with Russian television: Channel One, Channel Two, NTV – just like in other Russian cities. Such terrible brainwashing is going on! The occupiers are trying to convince us that Ukraine does not need us, that we are with Russia forever. It is very important for us to communicate that this is all a lie. That’s why we came up with the idea of doing a weekly newspaper.
We collect Ukrainian news, make a summary of what is most important and write briefly about what is really happening. We purposefully choose good news that will uplift people and will help them understand that behind the “wall,” which is how they refer to the border of the occupied territory. We want to say that no one has forgotten us, that they are fighting for us. We put newspaper leaflets in mailboxes, put them under doors, leave them in visible places in entryways, and wrap them in Russian newspapers to leave them on benches.
She makes a rotten moonshine with a major dose of laxative. This is her personal recipe.
Leaflets and banknotes are important and regular forms of protest, but there are also more targeted ones. For example, sometimes we bring gifts from the Mavka kitchen to Russian soldiers. We have a wonderful member who makes a rotten moonshine with a major dose of laxative. This is her personal recipe.
At the very beginning of the occupation, when a dry law had just been introduced but the soldiers really wanted to drink, we could not help but help them. They get drunk with our concoction, fall asleep, and then the show in the name of Mavka revenge begins. We also periodically bake buns with the same secret ingredient. We give all these little gifts as “gratitude” from the residents of the city.
Some people are always telling us to be more careful with Russian soldiers. Others ask why we don’t we kill them. The short answer is that this is work for the Ukrainian Armed Forces. Let everyone do their job.
Putin propaganda everywhere
The whole city is covered in quotations from Putin, billboards about the Year of the Family (a Russian state policy for 2024 that is intended to protect the family and preserve traditional values) and things in that spirit. Interestingly, there is very little Z symbolism, though there is a riot of colors – Russian tricolor flags are everywhere.
We started burning them, calling it “Operation Catharsis” because we never even imagined how much of a high we would get off it. A flag burns, and you immediately feel better. This is not a mass campaign, unfortunately, because the cities are under total camera surveillance, and it is difficult to remove the flags.
Initially, in public the occupiers just pretended that we did not exist. To say that they are fighting partisans is to admit that there are opposition sentiments here in general. But then they were finally forced to confront our reality, and all graffiti and flyers were destroyed with lightning speed. It would be nice if they dealt with regular city problems so quickly.
Return to Soviet times
If you look at Melitopol from the outside, it is the picture of a peaceful life. People are truly living normally, but only those who were brought from Russia. They have nothing to be afraid of, and they go to cafes and have fun at concerts.
It’s all a façade. People continue to disappear, the torture continues. The occupiers are no longer stopping people in the streets, though surveillance has increased significantly. Many locals continue to leave (Editor’s note: before the full-scale war, more than 150,000 people lived in Melitopol. Six months after the invasion, about 70,000 residents remained in the city. Since the beginning of the occupation, almost 100,000 Russians have come to Melitopol).
I try to leave the house only when necessary.
Sometimes I have the feeling that the whole world continues living, it moves forward, but it’s as if we were put in a time machine, and we are returning to the Soviet Union. All the products imported [from Russia] are lousy and expensive, clothes are sold in spontaneous markets, there are only consumer staples, propaganda is everywhere, people are frightened, there’s no more freedom of speech.
Life in the city is busy with occupiers; I spend all my spare time in my apartment, like most Melitopol residents. I try to leave the house only when necessary.
But our Mavka partisan movement is growing. This winter, girls from Luhansk and Donetsk began to appear like flowers from under the snow; before that, there were practically no contacts with them. The biggest discovery for me is the resistance in Crimea. We were sure that after so many years under occupation, people there would no longer be able to support the resistance. But such a large number of their women wrote to us! It seems to me that they are no longer afraid of anything there, and they are ready to fight to the end.
When we are liberated, we will all come out into the light and take off our masks. I think everyone will be shocked. You never would have thought, having met this woman, that she could steal Russian flags and burn them in her yard.
I really want to say hello to everyone on the other side of the “wall” and say: hey, our fight must go on!
Originally published April 9, 2024, this article was updated April 12, 2024 with enriched media.
