On-the-Ground Report by Arpine Hovhannisian | Zartonk Media
For over the last forty nights, the peaceful life in Khnatsakh and nearby Khoznavar in Syunik, southern Armenia, has been shattered by gunfire.
On May 9, Zartonk visited the villages for an on-the-ground report to see what remains of the so-called ceasefire.
At the entrance of the municipality facing the Azeri posts in Khnatsakh, Gor Arakelyan, the deputy head of the community, recalls the moment when gunfire came dangerously close.
“A bullet flew right past us here one night,” he says, pointing to the spot where they were standing. “It could have hit anyone.”
Residents of the villages say the shooting starts like clockwork, around 10:20 pm, and continues up until 5 am.
“It began during Novruz,” says Vahan Zakyan, mayor of Khoznavar borderline village, referring to the Azeri spring holiday. “Since then, not a night has passed in peace.”
Children were playing volleyball outside the municipal building, in the newly built playground. They’re eager to guide us through what’s become routine damage.
10-year-old Alex leads us to his grandmother’s house, hit by gunfire on April 23. His grandparents, Greta and Ruben Khachatryan, live directly across from Azerbaijani positions.
That night, at around 10:30 pm, bullets ripped through their bedroom window while Ruben slept. A mirror shattered. If he had been sitting instead of lying down, the bullet might have struck him.
The municipality replaced the glass. A new mirror was promised but hadn’t arrived yet. The couple no longer uses the room.
“I’m too scared to sleep there,” Greta says. “You could die in your sleep.”
On April 23, Armenia’s Ministry of Defense issued a statement: No casualties reported because of the shootings. We urge Azerbaijan to investigate the shelling and provide public clarification. Yerevan has proposed a joint mechanism for ceasefire investigations, Azerbaijan has yet to respond.
Yet the bullets continue to hit homes, roofs, even the village gas pipeline, the civilian infrastructure the government claims is not being targeted.
When asked if the children are afraid, Alex shrugs: “We’re used to it.” Then he climbs onto a rooftop to check for bullets from the night before.
“Mom asks me to check the results of the shootings during the daytime”, says the 10-year-old.
For now, that’s part of the routine—alongside school, chores, and afternoons at the new playground. Life goes on, even as the shooting continues.
