After photographer Evgeniy Maloletka, videographer Mstyslav Chernov and fixer Vasylysa Stepanenko managed to escape the Russian-encircled Mariupol in mid-March 2022, their footage from the first 20 days of the occupation caused a massive global reaction.
Today, Evgeniy Maloletka holds more international and national awards than any other Ukrainian photographer - around 40. Notably, he is a Pulitzer Prize laureate for Public Service, a recipient of the James Foley Award for Conflict Reporting, and the Shevchenko and Georgiy Gongadze national prizes. He also won an Oscar for the documentary «20 Days in Mariupol». We spoke with Evgeniy about the feelings of futility when facing human indifference, the people who helped him escape from occupation, his ambitions to make it into history books and the strategies he uses to avoid burnout.
«Camera does not protect you»
Kseniya Minchuk: How did you start photographing the war?
Evgeniy Maloletka: Although I have a degree in electronic devices and systems engineering, photography captivated me during my student years. I worked for several editorial offices. In 2010, I went to cover the protests in Belarus. After that, I documented both sides of our revolution: the protests for and against Yanukovych, and then Maidan. I worked in conflict zones around the world, including various UN missions in Africa. Eventually, I found myself on the train that brought me to the war.
I am originally from Berdyansk. When I looked at the map and saw Russia intensifying its actions, I realised that a full-scale war was inevitable. And when you understand that something terrible, like war, is about to happen, you ask yourself: «Where do I want to be, and what do I want to do? Where do I need to be to make that happen?» Although when that «terrible» thing arrives, plans can break. But at the very least, you should be technically prepared, which is what I did.
From there, the most important thing is your knowledge and your ability to adapt quickly. The more you know and the faster you react, the more you can accomplish.
- One of the most heart-wrenching photos by Evgeniy Maloletka, and of the war in general, is the series from Mariupol where young parents rush to the hospital with their injured baby, only to learn that the child has died. It is unimaginably devastating. How do you cope with the pain you witness and capture with your camera? Is photography itself a method?
- Definitely not. The camera does not protect you. You keep looking at these people in the photos and you go through it with them. The faces of the parents, and later the doctors - you see the hope fade from their eyes... and that pain never leaves you, it stays with you forever. I live with it. Constantly. I had to learn how to coexist with it.
The footage from «20 Days in Mariupol» - is the pain that will stay with me for the rest of my life. I saw it live. I have rewatched the film many times, and now I do not cry anymore. But inside, the emotions are still incredibly heavy and intense.
For me, every photo of the war is the most terrifying. They are like flashbacks, like a dream. Like something that happened to someone else. But no - it happened to me.
I am constantly confronted with grief. I have to edit, show it to the world, look at the photos of other photographers. Human bodies, destroyed buildings, lives taken. These emotions are overwhelming. And there is still so much more horror I will have to capture.
Sometimes the things you did not capture are more terrifying
What keeps me going is the awareness that I am doing a small, yet important job. Hoping that it is not in vain. That the world will see it, remember it, because every photograph represents a human story. And it is crucial that we ourselves do not forget our own history. That is why I keep doing it.
- You have documented the protests against Yanukovych that led to his removal, the pandemic and now the war. Do you see your work as an important mission?
- Sometimes it is disappointing when photos get little attention. But other times, a story I captured goes viral. The more you work and the more your photos are seen and elicit a reaction, the stronger the sense that it is not in vain.
At least, I hope it is not.
I understand that only the things we remember will remain in history
We will remember people’s stories through the photos and videos that moved us. Only a small part of what has happened during this war will make it into history.
I hope the work we are doing will end up in books and textbooks so future generations can learn what our people went through and understand what war really is.
- Do you feel any satisfaction from what you do?
- That is a tough question. Yes and no. Because I photograph horrifying things that people do not want to see. And you force them to look. People, especially outside Ukraine, in Europe for example, mostly want to see positive things. Even here, we tend to think like that. If the strike hit the house next door and not ours - thank God! But in that neighbouring house, people died...
- Have there been moments when you could not bring yourself to photograph what was happening?
- Of course. There were times when I put the camera down and helped because no one else was around. If you see that you can help in some way, you do it.
«We went through 16 Russian checkpoints, and they let us through each one»
- You arrived in Mariupol an hour before the war started. Did you understand what you were getting into?
- Yes. It is impossible to predict every detail, but Mstyslav Chernov, Vasylysa Stepanenko and I knew that the city would likely be encircled. We went to Mariupol deliberately, to be surrounded. Consciously.
Of course, it was terrifying. We travelled at night, and it was eerily quiet and tense. We prepared for various scenarios and even joked that we were heading to the city that would become one of the starting points of World War III...
- How often were you under fire in Mariupol?
- Constantly. I would wake up in the morning at the hotel and go outside to film the building across the street because it had just been destroyed. There was no need to travel anywhere.
- You worked without electricity, water, the internet, and under constant danger. What decisions saved your lives?
- We were lucky in many ways, but some specific decisions and people truly saved our lives. There were tough moments when we barely escaped from areas that the occupiers had already surrounded.
For a while, we lived in a hospital that sheltered us. We became friends with the doctors, sleeping in the corridors where everyone had moved to avoid the shelling, and when necessary, we helped carry stretchers with the wounded. Then the building next to us was taken by the Russians. Tanks rolled out onto the streets. Their forces advanced, and aircraft were deployed. Street fighting raged around the hospital, and we were inside. Then our military came for us and said, «Pack up, we are running». And we ran with them. That saved us.
Another instance was when we finally got out of the encircled area, but I lost my car - it was destroyed. A police officer named Volodymyr offered to drive us out of Mariupol. He risked his life and the lives of his family to take us in his car, even though we had met just two days earlier.
His car was shot up, the windows were gone, but it was still drivable. He, his wife, and their child took the three of us (myself, Vasylysa, and Mstyslav) into their vehicle. And that is how we got out.
- Vasylysa told me this story, and I still can not grasp how you managed to pull it off…
- We passed through 15 or 16 Russian checkpoints, and at each one, they let us through. The occupiers had only just begun implementing their filtration process. Perhaps it helped that we did not take the same route as others. The truth is, you never know exactly what saved you. But if the Russians had found the footage we shot or realised we were Ukrainian journalists, we all would have suffered - us, and Volodymyr with his family.
One warrior does not make a battle
- There is a concept known as «survivor’s guilt», a feeling often experienced by those who fled the war and went abroad. Did you feel something similar when you escaped Mariupol?
- We thought about why we could not stay longer, especially because we did not capture the events at the drama theatre, where so many people died... But the fact that we survived at all - that is a miracle.
- Vasylysa mentioned her fear of going to Mariupol, and that your and Mstyslav’s confidence inspired her. Is it easier to work in a team or alone?
- There is a saying, «One warrior does not make a battle». I am convinced of that. In difficult circumstances, you need to be with people you trust, who are on the same wavelength as you.
If, God forbid, you get injured, you need to have your people by your side, who know what to do. Mstyslav had significant experience working in war zones, and I had some experience in our own war.
In the summer of 2021, I took a course in first aid. I already knew how to apply tourniquets and do other essential things, but refreshing those skills is critical when you live in a country at war. Life taught me how to act during shellings.
Vasylysa and I started working together about a month before the full-scale invasion. Before Mariupol, we actually tried to talk her out of going. But she made her choice because she wanted to be with us. She took the risk. She is brave.
- Who inspires you?
- Mstyslav, Vasylysa and I inspire each other. But above all, I am inspired by our people.
Ukrainians are incredibly strong. They have suffered so much from the war, but they do not give up. I often see soldiers who have been wounded but have not lost their immense life potential and energy. For example, there is a soldier who underwent about 60 surgeries and had both limbs amputated. He says: «It’s nothing. I have my whole life ahead of me». He is undergoing rehabilitation and can now walk up the stairs by himself. His goal is to «get his two kids on their feet». How can you not be inspired by that?
My grandmother worked until she was 82, until her last day. She was an engineer and had been disabled since childhood due to polio. Despite having a severe disability, she went to work every day. It was hard for her to climb to the third floor, but she did it. She always said that you can not just sit or lie down, that you have to keep moving. After the full-scale invasion began, my parents had to leave their home and became internally displaced. But my father did not fall into depression or anything like that. Even at over 60, he continues to work.
I do not want to sound pretentious, but what is the point of life if you are only doing everything for yourself? I realise that in war, it is those who care who show up. And I never want to stop caring
For me, it is important not to stand aside. To take part in something that matters.
It is also crucial not to burn out. We are in the middle of a long marathon, and we need to maintain the pace to make it to the end - without losing strength or the sense of why we are doing it.
- But how? What helps you with that?
- It is a difficult period right now. I try not only to photograph but also to help my colleagues, especially young talented photographers, develop. That inspires me too.
- Are there any photographs that make you feel joyful and happy?
- Of course. I love taking pictures of my son. Watching him grow, mature and just seeing how cool he is.
- What can each of us do to help achieve victory?
- We should all do what we do best. Every day. How else? Some people fight, some make drones, others protest abroad, and we do journalism. It all matters. Every action. Every person.
A journalist, writer, videographer, content creator and podcast author. She has participated in social projects aimed at raising awareness about domestic violence. She has led her own social initiatives, ranging from entertainment projects to a documentary film about an inclusive theatre, which she independently authored and edited. At «Hromadske Radio», she created podcasts, photo reports and video stories. Since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, she has begun collaborating with international publications, attending conferences and meetings across Europe to share insights about the war in Ukraine and journalism during these challenging times.
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