A Russian woman vents her anger after her parents disappear behind the front lines

The 37-year-old has spent the past five months trying to find her elderly mother and father, but to no avail.

Desperate, she took to social media to accuse authorities of “incompetence” for failing to track down the missing people in an emotional video posted earlier this month.

The immediate spark was a list published by the local governor and the Russian human rights commissioner, which was presented as an official register of the missing.

She said the 517 names are an incomplete list and even include the names of some people known to have died.

She called it a “spit in the face” for those who have spent months searching for news of lost relatives without success.

Such public attacks on the authorities are rare in Russia.

Moscow banned criticism of the offensive against Ukraine under strict military censorship laws, punishable by years in prison.

In the comments under her video on the VKontakte social network, some praised Prylutskaya’s “courage” and “honesty”. Others warned her.

But in a telephone interview with AFP, she said she was “not afraid” and that it was “simply impossible” to remain silent.

“I see that nothing is being done to find people who remained under occupation,” she said, expressing “great indignation” at the inaction of the authorities.

According to her, families trying to find their relatives remain “completely in the dark.”

“In order to somehow express our indignation, we are forced to go to social networks because there is no other way to do it,” she said.

A real estate agent and mother of four, Prylutska lives in the regional capital of Kursk, about 90 kilometers (55 miles) from the border.

Her parents, 66-year-old Ivan Prylutskyi and 71-year-old Oleksandra Pashchenko, refused to leave their village of Zaoleshenka, 10 kilometers from Ukraine, despite increasing drone attacks before the August offensive.

In the photo of the couple, Prylutska’s father has a thick mustache, while her mother’s thin hair is tied in a ponytail.

Before retirement, he was a collective farm worker, and she was an inspector in agriculture, having lived in Zaoleshenka almost all her life.

“My parents have nothing except the house,” Prylutska said.

The last time they spoke was on August 5, 2024, when Prylutska told her parents to get ready to leave, because she would come to pick them up.

Within 24 hours, Ukrainian tanks were in a nearby village.

Telephone lines were cut, and communication across the new front line became impossible.

In the frantic search for accurate information that followed, Prylutska said she realized she couldn’t rely on officials, accusing them of “silencing” the plight of those searching for missing loved ones.

Amid criticism of the list of missing persons, Prylutska said she received a phone call and a letter from Russian Ombudsman Tetyana Moskalkova, who acknowledged that the register was “far from comprehensive.”

Moskalkova reported that last week she held a rare meeting with a Ukrainian colleague, during which they discussed “the search for missing residents of the Kursk region.”

The government of the Kursk region has not yet responded to AFP’s request for comment.

Governor Oleksandr Khinshtein dismissed some of the criticism, writing in Telegram that Ukraine “holds Russian citizens.”

On Saturday, dozens of residents confronted him in a small protest, demanding the return of those in the occupied zones and better conditions for people displaced by the fighting.

Ukraine returned several residents to Russia after they were caught in areas it had taken control of.

The spokesman of the Ukrainian army in the occupied zone, Oleksiy Dmytrashkivskyi, told AFP that about 2,000 civilians still live there.

He called the Russian list of missing persons a “lie,” but said he had no information about Prylutskaya’s case.

Artillery and drones made the area extremely dangerous, he said, but added that Ukraine managed to find about 800 people after their relatives and friends got in touch.

But turning to the Ukrainian military is associated with risks under Russian law.

“So what options remain?” Prylutska asked. “Public appeals only.”

bur/jxb