Manya Ghukasyan was born in the village of Taghavard in the Martuni region of Artsakh. She got married and settled in the neighboring Karmir Shuka village. She and her husband, Borik Ghukasyan, a tanker during the Artsakh liberation war of the 90s, lived and worked in the village and had 4 children: 3 girls and a boy.
“I was thinking about having as many children as needed until I have a longed-for boy. After three girls, my Hakob was born in 2000. We all loved him very much. He was not only the favorite of our house, but also of the neighbors. My husband was a tractor driver, and I worked in the kitchens of village banquet halls, while doing farming. We were weaving our family happiness together. When my son turned 18, he was drafted into the army,” said the 48-year-old woman. The superior command of the Artsakh Defense Army defined artilleryman Hakob Ghukasyan as an exemplary soldier. After six months of service, he was promoted to sergeant. There were 3 months left for Hakob’s demobilization, when the 2020 war unleashed by Azerbaijan began. The 44-Day War.
“On October 11, 2020, when it was dangerous to stay in the village, we moved to the village of Tegh, RA. Every day I called my son, and he always cheered us up and told us that it was almost finished, be patient. My nephews were also in defensive positions. I called I called my son many-many times on October 16, but he didn’t answer. I couldn’t find my place, I spent a horrible night and called my husband on October 17, hoping to learn from him some news about my son. He, barely being able to speak, said that he has bad news… But I did not imagine or did not want to believe that it would be related to my son. After hearing the news of Hakob’s death, I fainted.
Before that, I prayed every day in the church of Tegh village, and on October 17, around 5:00 p.m., when I was supposed to go to pray again, my nose bled, my health worsened, and I could not go to church. Later, it turned out that my son died at that very moment,” said the mother of the dead boy in tears.
Sergeant Hakob Ghukasyan was martyred on October 17, 2020 in the defensive positions of Martakert. After hearing the news of her son’s death, the mother somehow reaches the Karmir Shuka from Tegh village. Those were the worst days of the 44-Day War. According to Manya Ghukasyan, they were trying to reach the village half of the way through the forests. They reached the village of Khachmach by car, and then reached the Karmir Shuka on foot. There was no one in the village at that time. Mrs. Manya buried her son together with her husband and soldiers.
“There was not a single flower to put on my son’s grave. The enemy was constantly firing. The next day, on the way to the grave, we saw flowers growing in the yard of one of the villagers. We entered the yard, picked some and put it on my son’s grave. The condition was so bad that it was impossible to stay in the village and I was sent to Tegh community hurriedly,” said the mother who lost her son, choking her emotions in her throat.
After the ill-fated ceasefire of November 9, the people of Artsakh gradually returned to their homeland. Sergeant Hakob Ghukasyan’s family also settled in the village, continuing to live under direct fire from the Azerbaijani bases. After November 9, 2020, Karmir Shuka became a border village. Hakob’s mother mentioned that, before September 2023, around 120 people celebrated her son’s birthday, because there were no hopes for the future and he did not know if he would have such an opportunity tomorrow. On September 19,2023, around 1:00 p.m., Azerbaijan attacked again and Karmir Shuka was immediately targeted by the enemy.
“The village came under enemy fire. My 84-year-old mother, who had a stroke, lived in our house, hardly walked. She was very scared: the whole house was shaking. Window panes and roof tiles were falling around us. Since we didn’t have fuel due to the blockade, we, together with my husband, somehow carried my mother in our arms to the village, from where we were taken to Tsovategh community in a car. Before that, under the shooting, my husband and I rushed to my son’s grave. I watered the flowers, took out the Artsakh flag and hid it under the ground with a small khachkar [carved, memorial stele bearing a cross, with additional motifs such as rosettes, interlaces, and botanical motifs, characteristic of medieval ChristianArmenian art]. After the ceasefire on September 20, we returned home, but after staying in the village for 1-2 days, on September 24, they announced that we should leave immediately, because the Azerbaijani army entered the village. My husband and I immediately ran to the cemetery to say goodbye to my son, then I took a photo and took a handful of soil as a relic. We rushed home and I only managed to take my sick mother’s clothes and drive to Stepanakert in a Ford car of one of the villagers”, Mrs. Manya recalled.
At that time, Artsakh villages were surrounded. The Azerbaijanis immediately set up checkpoints and checked the vehicles evacuating the civilian population from the villages. They also checked the aforementioned car in which Manya’s 84-year-old immobilized sick mother was being taken lying down. After staying in Stepanakert for 2-3 days, they, like thousands of Artsakh citizens, embarked on the journey of migration and overcame many difficulties to reach Armenia.
“It was very difficult to transport my sick mother to Armenia. Shee neither ate nor drank. She was completely exhausted. She was in a serious psychological and physical condition. My mother could not stand these atrocities and died on October 9. My brother also got sick and after a year of struggle he also passed away this year. My husband is also taking all of this very hard,” added the victim’s mother. Now she and her husband live on rent in the village of Nurnus, RA. Her husband does not work, and she has just started working. The girls are married and live separately. The couple have 7 grandchildren and are waiting for the birth of the 8th. However, Mrs. Manya’s only dream is to return to Artsakh, to Karmir Shuka, and be near her son’s grave.
Zara Mayilyan