Gunpowder Chronicles: War & Conflict

Trump’s Digital Jihad

Vudi Xhymshiti — Tue, 07 Apr 2026 12:47:30 GMT

There is a particular brand of spiritual and strategic rot that manifests when a man mistakes the Resurrected Christ for a marketing gimmick and the United States military for a personal wrecking crew. On the holiest morning of the Christian calendar, a day dedicated to the triumph of life over death, President Donald Trump chose to belch a profanity-laden ultimatum into the digital ether, effectively offering a blood sacrifice of civilian infrastructure to the altar of his own ego. To scream “Open the fuckin’ Strait”1 on Easter Sunday is not merely a lapse in presidential decorum, it is a profound theological and moral obscenity. It is a mockery of the very faith he cynically dons like a cheap campaign hat. While millions of Americans, and indeed, over a million Iranian Christians, gathered to celebrate the Prince of Peace, the U. S., Commander-in-Chief was busy drafting a hit list for “Power Plant Day.”

The President speaks of blowing up bridges and power plants with the giddy, sociop…

When war becomes a story told to justify itself

Vudi Xhymshiti — Wed, 25 Mar 2026 14:00:48 GMT

In a video circulated by an official United States State Department account1, Donald Trump declares, with characteristic certainty, that victory is no longer in question.

“We’ve won this. This war has been won,” he says, dismissing scrutiny as the invention of “fake news”.

The claim is not merely one of battlefield success. It is totalising. Iran, in his telling, is a hollow state, incapable of resistance, a country over which American aircraft roam at will, its infrastructure exposed, its sovereignty reduced to spectacle.

“If I want to take down that power plant,” he adds, “they can’t do a thing about it.”

The language is not strategic. It is theatrical. It collapses war into dominance, reduces conflict to humiliation, and strips away the central premise of modern warfare as understood under international law, that force must be constrained, proportionate, and directed toward a political end. There is no such end here. Only assertion.

This assertion sits uneasily alongside the reality a…

The Day We Toppled Milosevic and How His Disciple Won

Vudi Xhymshiti — Sun, 05 Oct 2025 10:20:27 GMT

On 5 October 2000, Serbia staged the most elegant of Balkan miracles: a regime that had made a habit of terror collapsed in a single afternoon to a crowd that refused to go home1. Twenty-five years later, the photographs have the untouchable glow of myth, bulldozers nosing through police cordons, union men in windbreakers, students with hoarse throats, a parliament building briefly on fire and suddenly, almost sheepishly, open.

“Gotovo je!” was the chant. He’s finished.

The assumption Western, Serbian, human was that history, having turned, would keep turning. It did not. The truly Balkan twist came later: the faces that manned the loudhailers dispersed, many to private lives; the machine that trained them returned, rebranded and a country that promised to escape the gravity of Milosevic settled back into its orbit, only with smoother manners and better English.

The inventory of that October is by now catechism. Milosevic, architect of wars from Slovenia to Bosnia, finisher of the arc in Kosovo, bled legitimacy at the ballot box on 24 September 2000 and tried to pretend otherwise. Belgrade would not indulge the pretence. On 5 October, under the pressure of numbers and a sudden shortage of fear, the edifice gave way. Vojislav Kostunica took the federal presidency; Zoran Dindic became prime minister and translator-in-chief of a reformist idea that Serbia could be ordinary, lawful, European. The lives that hinged on his survival were many; on 12 March 2003, a sniper ended them all at once. The murder’s political motive was never properly digested by the state he was trying to modernise. Serbia learned to proceed without answering the question that mattered most: who profits when reform is shot on the steps of government?

Love, War, and the Sighing Horizon

Vudi Xhymshiti — Fri, 05 Sep 2025 08:41:12 GMT

It is Friday, September the fifth, and as I open my eyes, the sun is rising, and the entire room I am at along with my bunker bed is quite wobbly. Just yesterday, I woke in a stable super king-sized bed in downtown London, where I was roused by the storm battering against the Victorian window, water sneaking in through the crack of shattered glass. Now I am on a ferry to mainland Europe, a voyage of three days. The ocean doesn’t whisper here; it growls.

The cabin is narrow, a monk’s cell disguised as hospitality. A top bunk above me, another below, a tiny window pretending to be generous but framing only the grey-blue pulse of the sea. I laugh to myself, Londoners pay thousands for minimalist boutique hotels that offer less charm. At least here, the swaying bed comes with a free reminder that you are mortal.

I am alone. Or rather, not alone but always in-between. Friends call, lovers write, some care enough to ask where are you now? Others simply vanish. Love and war reporting never coh…

Kyiv Sleeps in Hallways and Wakes in Ashes

Vudi Xhymshiti — Thu, 26 Jun 2025 15:45:11 GMT

It begins with a siren. Not the kind from myth, but the modern wail of circuitry, a mechanical shriek that carves itself into your chest at midnight.

It comes without mercy, without preamble, and without end. This is Kyiv. A city that doesn't fall asleep so much as lie in wait, ears pressed to the silence, counting seconds between explosions. Here, war is not just fought; it is endured. It seeps through plaster and parquet, curls around teacups and towel racks. When I returned in June, my fifth time since the full-scale invasion, I did not arrive to report, I arrived to remember. To remember how a city breathes when the air itself is trying to kill you.

Danya 25, an animator with the National Museum of Ukraine, sits quietly at his kitchen table in Kyiv, Ukraine, on Tuesday, June 10, 2025, preparing a modest meal of greens and tea under the soft light of a Soviet-era flat. The table, draped in a floral cloth, holds microgreens, cups, and calm, a portrait of domesticity turned defiance in a city gripped by nightly air raid sirens. That night, as Russian missiles struck the capital again, Danya offered shelter to a visiting journalist, choosing to remain not in a bunker, but in the hallway of his home, between walls that have learned to carry the weight of war. (VX Photo/Vudi Xhymshiti)

And what I found was this: people who no longer measure time in hours, but in impact craters. Who no longer sleep in beds, but hallways. Who still boil water for tea because rituals, however small, are the only things Russia cannot bomb.

When I returned to Ukraine for the fifth time since Russia launched its full-scale invasion, the city of Kyiv greeted me not with ceremony, but with an old, familiar rhythm: the siren wail of midnight air raids, the buzz of drones above tired rooftops, the unshaken hospitality of people who have long since woven war into the fabric of their daily lives. It was June again—early summer on the calendar, but in spirit, another season of siege.

I had last left Ukraine in September. Nine months later, I found myself once more in the capital, renting a corner of Soviet memory, a modest flat tucked within a concrete skeleton from another era. My friend, Vovo, had helped me find the place, a testament to how conflict forges unlikely continuity: friendships, routines, a sense of what’s normal in a place where normal no longer applies.

After leaving the Airbnb I’d used temporarily, I met up with Daniya, a new friend, an animator working with the National Museum of Ukraine. Over a late evening of conversation, food, and quiet laughter, we lost track of time. The city’s GPS services shut down just before midnight as part of Kyiv’s curfew protocol, and by the time I stepped into my car to return home, I realised I was directionless. The familiar blue arrow on the map had vanished. I was a foreigner again in a city I knew intimately, intimately enough to understand the danger of being out past curfew.

Without hesitation, Daniya offered me a place to stay. It wasn’t an act of charity, it was the fluid empathy of those who live through war together. We returned to his flat, where the kettle hissed to life and our conversation resumed under the soft yellow glow of a kitchen lamp. Tea. Fruit. Microgreens from the market. The mundanity of it all felt like resistance.

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And then, the sirens.

The phones on the table shivered with noise, urgent alerts, their vibration more menacing than the sound itself. An incoming wave of Russian missiles or Shahed drones had been detected. We checked the alerts, measured the risk, listened for distant thunder. We chose not to go to a shelter that night. Not out of defiance or carelessness, but calculation. I have spent the better part of my adult life covering armed conflicts; I have heard enough bombs to know which ones might end me.

We didn’t sleep in the bedrooms. The windows opened toward a schoolyard, a narrow street, potential paths for falling debris. Instead, we laid a mattress in the corridor, nestled between two interior walls. The hallway, long and unadorned, was never designed to protect, but in Kyiv it had become the safest room in the house.

We lay there, swaddled in blankets and tension, listening to the rumble of distant detonations. Sleep came in fractured doses, five minutes here, ten there, between the whine of incoming fire and the silence that lingered after. When morning broke, it did so reluctantly, casting a dull, yellowed light through the narrow windows.

The curfew lifted at five. Daniya brewed coffee with the reverence of someone trying to preserve something human amid all the inhumanity. He had work. So did I.

By seven, I was driving through Kyiv’s bruised streets, tracing the impact sites Vovo had marked for me the night before. A schoolyard crater. A collapsed stairwell. Burnt-out cars beside residential towers. Four people were confirmed dead that morning. More than twenty were injured. None were soldiers.

It was June 6th, 20251, my first full day back in Ukraine. That same night, Kyiv would be struck again. And again on the tenth2. And again on the seventeenth3, when 440 drones and 32 missiles rained down across the capital and its surrounding regions. They struck not barracks but apartment blocks, not armouries but commercial estates. Odessa. Zhytomyr. Mykolaiv. Chernihiv. The names are not just places on a map—they are echoes of grief now carved into stone and skin.

The scars left by a Russian missile strike on a residential tower near Shuliavka Metro in Kyiv on the night of 5–6 June 2025 are brutally visible: torn balconies, shattered windows, and burnt-out concrete where families once lived. At least four civilians were killed and over twenty injured in a strike that turned homes into hollow shells. Debris littered playgrounds and courtyards where children had played just hours earlier. As the air raid sirens continued, residents, volunteers, and emergency workers rallied with wood, hammers, and resolve patching wounds where walls once stood, and dignity refused to fall. (VX Photo / Vudi Xhymshiti)

The Western world often measures war in geopolitical calculations, casualties per square kilometre, the arc of artillery range. But in Ukraine, war is measured in walls. Which ones fell. Which ones still stand. Which ones were strong enough to shelter a stranger during a night of terror.

There is no clear front line in Kyiv. The war is everywhere, in the stairwells where neighbours exchange updates about missile routes, in the kitchens where families whisper beneath the wail of sirens, in the corridors where people learn to sleep like soldiers without training.

And yet, life insists. The washing machine still runs. The kettle still boils. People still offer tea to guests, still whisper stories across the dinner table. They remember not just who was lost, but how they lived before they were taken.

This is Kyiv in June. A city where history shudders beneath every footfall. Where missile trails lace the sky like graffiti in a language none of us chose to learn. Where you measure safety by how many walls stand between you and the outside.

And still, every morning, Kyiv wakes. Not whole, but breathing. Its walls cracked, its people bruised, but never broken. A child’s toy sits on a windowsill missing its glass. A sewing machine hums beside a shattered wall. A mother pours tea in a kitchen without light, stirring in sugar with trembling hands. These are not images of resilience for the sake of spectacle. These are acts of defiance so ordinary they become sacred.

Because in Kyiv, survival is not just endurance, it is grace. It is the grace to offer shelter to a stranger at midnight. To brew coffee with trembling fingers. To sweep broken glass from a child’s bedroom floor and still believe in tomorrow.

This is not a war story. It is a love letter to the living.

To those who stay. To those who rebuild. To those who wake up, again and again, in a city that teaches the world what courage really means.

And if there is any justice left in us, let us not look away.

Kyiv Railway Bombing — VX Pictures.

After the Blast — VX Pictures.

Kyiv Struck — VX Pictures.

Kyiv Underfire — VX Pictures.

Airstrikes and Retaliation: Israel Hits, Iran Fires Back

Sat, 14 Jun 2025 00:03:34 GMT

Pre-Dawn Strikes Across Iran (June 13): In the early hours of June 13, 2025, Israel launched a massive wave of airstrikes across Iran. Israeli officials said 200 warplanes were involved in “Operation Rising Lion,” targeting multiple sites before dawn1. The strikes hit Iran’s nuclear facilities (including the sprawling Natanz uranium enrichment site and the Fordow underground site near Qom) as well as ballistic missile production complexes and other military targets. Loud explosions were reported in central Iran around Natanz and Isfahan, on the outskirts of Tehran, and near the holy city of Qom2.

Continued Strikes and Second Wave: Through midday and into the evening, Israel continued its offensive. Israeli forces struck additional targets such as missile and drone launch sites and even a second nuclear facility in Isfahan province. Iranian media reported blasts on Tehran’s northern and southern outskirts and at Fordow in the evening, indicating a second wave of Israeli strikes later that day. Throughout the day, Iranian air defences were activated around Tehran and Isfahan as Iran attempted to intercept incoming missiles and aircraft.

Evening Iranian Retaliation: By nightfall on June 13, Iran retaliated with a barrage of missiles. Air-raid sirens rang out across Israeli cities as hundreds of ballistic missiles were launched from Iran toward Israel. Residents of Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, and other areas took cover as Israel’s multi-tier missile defence systems engaged the incoming fire.

Obstruction or Justice? Trump’s ICC Standoff

Vudi Xhymshiti — Fri, 24 Jan 2025 18:02:05 GMT

On his first day back in office, President Donald J. Trump reignited tensions with the International Criminal Court (ICC), signing an executive order that could pave the way for renewed sanctions against its officials. The move signals a return to a contentious chapter of his first term, when his administration sought to punish the ICC for its investigations into alleged war crimes in Afghanistan and Palestine. But this time, Trump’s actions could expose him to unprecedented legal jeopardy, complicating his post-presidential travels and reshaping U.S. foreign policy in an increasingly polarised world.

During his initial presidency, Trump froze bank accounts and restricted travel for then-Chief Prosecutor Fatou Bensouda and her deputy. The sanctions drew widespread condemnation but ultimately amounted to little more than a diplomatic headache. Bensouda, showing remarkable restraint, refrained from escalating the dispute. When President Joe Biden assumed office, he quickly lifted the sanctions, signalling a renewed commitment to international norms.

Cease-Fire Deal Brings Fragile Hope to War-Torn Gaza

Vudi Xhymshiti — Wed, 15 Jan 2025 23:15:49 GMT

In a significant breakthrough, Qatar and the United States announced on Wednesday that a cease-fire agreement had been reached between Israel and Hamas, marking a potential turning point in a brutal conflict that has ravaged Gaza for the past 15 months. The deal, which centers on the release of 33 Israeli hostages and the delivery of urgently needed humanitarian aid to the embattled Palestinian enclave, also outlines steps toward a longer-term resolution to the conflict.

The proposal, first suggested by President Joe Biden in May 2024, reflects months of painstaking negotiations by senior U.S. officials, who have shuttled between regional capitals in an effort to bridge the profound divides between the warring parties. The initial phase of the agreement calls for a six-week cessation of hostilities, accompanied by a massive influx of aid to Gaza, which has been decimated by relentless Israeli airstrikes and ground operations.

According to the terms of the deal, Israel will gradually wit…

The Palestinian Authority’s Crackdown on Al Jazeera

Vudi Xhymshiti — Fri, 03 Jan 2025 13:31:59 GMT

In a scene that mirrored past confrontations, the Al Jazeera office in Ramallah faced an abrupt interruption. Uniformed Palestinian police arrived at the newsroom, delivering an official order to suspend operations in parts of the West Bank. The move came with little ceremony but immense consequence, marking the latest chapter in the fraught relationship between the Palestinian Authority (PA) and the Qatari-owned broadcaster.

The PA justified its decision by accusing Al Jazeera of incitement and bias, particularly in its coverage of the escalating tensions in Jenin refugee camp. Al Jazeera, renowned for its exhaustive reporting on the Gaza conflict, vehemently denied the accusations1, framing the closure as a bid to suppress its ability to reveal the unvarnished truths of life under occupation.

This moment wasn’t without precedent. Just months earlier, Al Jazeera’s offices had been raided by Israeli forces2, underscoring the precarious space the network occupies in the region. This time, …

The Geopolitics of Rebranding Militants

Vudi Xhymshiti — Mon, 23 Dec 2024 18:47:27 GMT

Rebranding Extremism and Western Power Dynamics

In the turbulent theatre of 21st-century geopolitics, the West’s narrative pivots are as strategic as they are bewildering. Few transformations illustrate this better than the evolving portrayal of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) and its leader Mohammed Abu al-Jolani. Once branded as irredeemable terrorists, HTS is now being reimagined in Western discourse, with elements of the media characterising them as a pragmatic force in Syria’s volatile landscape. This shift is emblematic of a broader, deeply cynical pattern: the selective application of moral outrage and the deliberate redefinition of enemies and allies based on geopolitical expediency.

Terrorist to Freedom Fighter: The Elasticity of Labels

To understand this transformation, one must confront the uncomfortable elasticity of the term “terrorism.” Historically wielded as an ideological cudgel, the label has been applied to delegitimise adversaries and justify military interventions. HTS’s rebranding mirrors similar shifts seen with other groups in the past. What changes is not the group’s actions often characterised by violence and extremism, but their utility to Western strategic objectives. This weaponisation of language raises profound questions: Is the term “terrorism” descriptive, or is it merely a tool of statecraft, applied or rescinded based on convenience?

The Empire’s Playbook: Divide, Exploit, Abandon

Peter Apps Sounds the Alarm

Vudi Xhymshiti — Mon, 16 Dec 2024 22:51:19 GMT

The high-ceilinged grandeur of London’s National Liberal Club was thick with the kind of anticipation reserved for speakers who have something important to say. This December evening, the Defence and Security Circle, a growing platform for military and strategic discourse, hosted Peter Apps, journalist, author, and chronicler of modern conflict. The room was packed—military leaders, academics, and eager listeners drawn by the reputation of a man who has spent decades reporting from the frontlines of global crises. Apps, whose first full-length book Deterring Armageddon: A Biography of NATO1 debuted to critical acclaim earlier this year, took to the lectern with the composed authority of someone who understands the weight of his words.

With his characteristic mixture of anecdote and analysis, Apps began his speech by surveying a world on edge. “This year, the world truly woke up to the threat of a major global conflict,” he said, setting the tone for an evening of unsettling, yet urgent reflections on geopolitics. From Ukraine’s battered frontlines to the escalating tensions around Taiwan, from Middle Eastern flashpoints to the corridors of Western power, Apps painted a picture of a planet edging closer to confrontation.

Peter Apps' Deterring Armageddon: A Biography of — A gripping look into nuclear deterrence and its role in global geopolitics.

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The Global Flashpoints

Apps’ analysis spanned continents, drawing attention to the hotspots shaping today’s geopolitical landscape. He pointed to Ukraine, where optimism from last year’s defence of Kyiv has waned under the weight of artillery barrages and a grinding war of attrition.

The Collapse of Assad: A Witness to Syria’s Struggle

Vudi Xhymshiti — Sun, 08 Dec 2024 11:53:03 GMT

In the early hours of this morning, the dawn broke over Damascus with a startling clarity, a capital free of its long-standing ruler, Bashar al-Assad. The Syrian rebel coalition declared the city liberated, its streets erupting in celebration as tanks were swarmed and statues toppled. A regime that had stood for 61 years had finally crumbled. Yet, as the dust of victory settles, one question lingers: what comes next for a nation that has bled for over a decade?

Twelve years ago, I stepped into the heart of Syria’s uprising, determined to document the conflict unraveling the country. By then, the Arab Spring had ignited a cascade of revolutions, but Syria’s descent into chaos stood apart—its brutality, its human toll, and its inescapable pull on those of us compelled to bear witness.

This is one of the images I captured moments after an airstrike whose shockwave overturned my car. Despite this, I went to the crater and took the shot:

A Syrian woman clutches her dead baby, staring at the b…

The ICC Strikes Back: No Leader Is Above the Law

Vudi Xhymshiti — Fri, 22 Nov 2024 18:38:19 GMT

From blocking aid to targeting civilians, Netanyahu and Gallant face war crimes charges. Can the ICC survive the backlash from global superpowers?

The International Criminal Court (ICC) has, in its history, often faced resistance from powerful states. But the threats it now confronts following its decision to issue arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, former Defence Minister Yoav Gallant, and Hamas military leader Mohammed Deif signal an unprecedented assault on the very notion of international accountability. By targeting senior figures on opposing sides of the Israel-Palestine conflict, the ICC has affirmed its commitment to impartial justice. Yet instead of supporting this principled stand, some of the world’s most influential nations have chosen to undermine the court’s authority, demonstrating not just a disregard for justice but an implicit acceptance of impunity for heinous crimes.

Maccabi Tel Aviv and the Culture of Intolerance

Vudi Xhymshiti — Sat, 09 Nov 2024 00:42:58 GMT

Maccabi Tel Aviv Football Club, Israel’s oldest and most celebrated football institution, boasts a rich legacy dating back to its founding in 1906. Adorned with numerous national championships and cup triumphs, it has long been a symbol of athletic excellence and national pride. Yet, beneath this storied veneer lies a shadowy narrative that reveals a deeply entrenched culture of intolerance and violence among its supporters—a phenomenon that not only mars the club’s image but also casts a dark reflection on societal currents in Israel and beyond.

In 2014, the racist underbelly of Maccabi Tel Aviv's fan base surfaced with unsettling clarity. During a match at Bloomfield Stadium, Mahran Radi, an Arab-Israeli midfielder, became the target of vitriolic abuse from the stands. Graffiti appeared in the city with chilling messages such as “We don’t want Arabs at Maccabi!” and “Radi is dead,” exposing a deep-seated hostility that underscored the player’s daily reality. The episode was not isolated but emblematic of a larger pattern within the club’s most fervent supporters—known as the “Maccabi Fanatics.”

Beitar Jerusalem's club offices were set on fire after they signed two Muslim-Chechen players [Source: DW]

The Maccabi Fanatics’ reputation extends beyond the borders of Israel. In August 2022, before a Europa Conference League match in Thessaloniki, Greek authorities detained 15 Maccabi Tel Aviv fans for attempting to smuggle smoke bombs and flares into the stadium. This incident was not just an example of general hooliganism but part of a recurring narrative that highlights the group’s willingness to carry their disruptive influence across Europe. A year later, in Cyprus, the police intervened to prevent a clash between Maccabi fans and supporters of Omonia 29 May, an encounter rooted in ideological enmity and reflective of the group’s confrontational spirit.

he Amsterdam Clashes and the Politics of Blame

Vudi Xhymshiti — Fri, 08 Nov 2024 10:58:38 GMT

In the late hours of November 7, 2024, the serene canals and bustling streets of Amsterdam became the epicentre of chaos as fans of Israeli football club Maccabi Tel Aviv clashed with locals and pro-Palestinian demonstrators. The city, known for its historical tolerance and cosmopolitan spirit, found itself grappling with violence that echoed far beyond the realm of football rivalries.

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VIDEO: Here is a video showing members of an Israeli fan club climbing up a building in Amsterdam to tear down a Palestinian flag. [Source: X]

Initial Reports and Official Reactions

Dutch Prime Minister Dick Schoof swiftly condemned the violence, framing the events as “antisemitic attacks” on Israeli citizens. He described the situation as “unacceptable,” and expressed his resolve to ensure the perpetrators would be prosecuted. Meanwhile, Amsterdam’s mayor emphasized the efforts to maintain calm amidst the violence, despite the evident fractures that emerged between police interventions and public perception.

However, as the reports unfolded, the early headlines from prominent outlets, such as the BBC, painted a picture of Maccabi Tel Aviv fans as victims. The BBC’s coverage, under the headline “Israeli football fans attacked in Amsterdam,” set a tone that aligned with widespread Western media narratives supporting Israel. The article detailed arrests, injuries, and the Dutch government’s assurances to Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu that justice would be served. Yet, tucked at the bottom of the report was an essential caveat: “The BBC has not yet verified social media footage from yesterday, but we are working on it.” This statement underscored a key flaw in rapid reporting—headlines framing narratives before the full truth is confirmed.

British media framing: Screenshot highlights how major UK outlets, including BBC, The Guardian, and The Telegraph, predominantly report on the Amsterdam incident as an 'attack on Israeli football fans,' despite verified information indicating that the Israeli supporters were the initial instigators of the violence.

Unveiling the Ground Truth: Eyewitnesses and Contradictory Footage

From Japan to Ukraine: One Woman’s Journey of Art and Survival

Vudi Xhymshiti — Thu, 24 Oct 2024 05:01:45 GMT

Sumy, a city nestled in the northern reaches of Ukraine, has found itself at the epicentre of historical and contemporary tensions. A mere stone’s throw from the Russian border, it stands as a testament to the resilience of those who call it home. Among them is Sayaka, a soft-spoken Japanese artist who, despite the global turmoil swirling around her, has chosen to root herself firmly in this unlikely corner of Eastern Europe.

Sayaka’s journey to Ukraine is far from ordinary. Born in Chiba, Japan, she moved to the cold, remote region of Hokkaido at the age of eight, an experience that would later shape her fascination with lands far from home.

"I lived in Hokkaido for 10 years before I graduated high school," she recalls. "The location is very similar to Ukraine, and I think that's why I like this country so much."

Her interest in the post-Soviet world, however, began much earlier. Her father, a businessman in the 1970s, would return from his trips to the Soviet Union with an assortment of souvenirs, Matryoshka dolls and other curiosities from the enigmatic empire. Among these was a bear-shaped Misha, the mascot of the 1980 Moscow Olympics. The toys, stories, and Soviet memorabilia fascinated Sayaka and planted the seeds of curiosity for a country, or rather, a world that was distant, poor, and shrouded in mystery. "I've always been interested in Russia," she explains. "At first, I wanted to go to Russia, but I ended up in Ukraine, the neighbouring country."

Sayaka, sitting in dim lighting, appears pensive. Her hands are clasped as she reflects on the conversation. During my conversation with her at her apartment in Sumy, Ukraine on Tuesday, Aug 20, 2024, she said, "I wanted to go to Russia at first, but I ended up in Ukraine, the neighbouring country." (VX Photo/ Vudi Xhymshiti)

Israel’s War in Gaza Under Global Scrutiny

Vudi Xhymshiti — Mon, 07 Oct 2024 09:03:12 GMT

One year after the events of October 7, 2023, a brutal, bloody day etched into history, we are still grappling with the legacy of both the Hamas attacks and Israel's response. Much has been said about the barbarity committed by Hamas militants: the massacre of civilians, the kidnapping of hostages, and the chaos that ensued as Israeli intelligence failures allowed for a devastating breach of their defenses. But one thing remains disturbingly clear: in seeking retribution, Israel has perpetuated a cycle of violence that is nothing short of genocidal, using the horrors of the Holocaust as its moral shield.

To understand this, we must first grapple with the inexcusable crimes of Hamas. On that fateful day, the world watched in horror as Hamas stormed through the Israeli border, killing unarmed civilians, committing atrocities, and taking hostages. But equally important is to scrutinise the response of the Israeli military, not as a defensive measure, but as an overwhelming offensive aimed…

Living in Kharkiv: A War Diary

Vudi Xhymshiti — Sat, 03 Aug 2024 19:51:25 GMT

Kharkiv, Ukraine—The 1st of August, 2024, marked the beginning of what I now call my War Diaries. As the sun rose over Kyiv, I found myself enveloped in the final preparations for my journey, meticulously arranged by my friend Vova. By early afternoon, I embarked on the drive to Kharkiv. The journey, a nearly twelve-hour odyssey, brought me to the city's threshold at precisely 5:59 PM Ukraine time.

Upon entering the Kharkiv region, a sign greeted me: "Kharkovska." As I ventured closer, another welcomed me to the city itself. A few hundred metres onward, a checkpoint emerged—a roadblock manned by soldiers and policemen. Cement blocks arranged in a tic-tac-toe pattern forced vehicles to slow down, allowing the guards to scrutinise every entrant. This was not merely a precaution; it was a palpable reminder of the precariousness that had seeped into daily life.

This checkpoint felt like the gates to a fortress. Beyond it, the city unfolded slowly, revealing its skeletal skyline—buildings an…

In the Shadows of Conflict: A Young Man’s Journey Through War and Aspiration

Vudi Xhymshiti — Wed, 17 Jul 2024 17:36:36 GMT

In the shattered streets of Gaza, where the echoes of war blend with the murmurs of dreams deferred, a young man named Jehad stands resilient amidst the chaos. At 22, he is not just a survivor but a beacon of hope and determination in a land where both are in scarce supply. Through a series of WhatsApp exchanges, Jehad shared his poignant story, revealing the indomitable spirit of youth striving for a future amidst the relentless backdrop of conflict.

In this picture provided by Jehad, he is seen delivering an online training session at Gaza Sky Geeks.

Born and raised in Gaza, Jehad’s life has been intertwined with the turbulent history of the region. A fourth-year computer engineering student at the Islamic University of Gaza, his interests lie in artificial intelligence and data science. He describes himself as a lover of life, calm, and contemplation, traits that have anchored him in the storm of violence that has engulfed his homeland.

His dreams, he says, were growing each day. “I a…

From Kosovo to Ukraine with a Broken Wheel and a Gracious Samaritan

Vudi Xhymshiti — Mon, 08 Jul 2024 13:50:02 GMT

An unexpected car breakdown in Bulgaria led to a heartwarming encounter with Mohammad, a kind Lebanese mechanic, who fixed my car and shared his incredible journey.

Mohammad Ozeir on the phone with clients at his garage in Bozhurishte, Sofia, Bulgaria, Monday, July 8, 2024. (Photo © Gunpowder Chronicles)

It has been several months since my last venture to Ukraine. Following my last visit in December 2022, with a few brief returns in 2023, the time has come again. Preparing for this journey, I meticulously serviced my car, readying myself for the long drive from Kosovo through North Macedonia, Bulgaria, Romania, and finally into Ukraine. Yet, as journeys often do, mine took an unexpected turn when an unfortunate mishap with my car’s front right wheel brought my travels to an abrupt halt.

Somewhere on the road, the screws of my wheel had mysteriously loosened, leading to the wheel bearing nearly dismantling—effectively, my car was broken. Faced with this mechanical calamity, I contacted my…