Surviving four wars: Yerjanik Hayrapetyan and her unyielding spirit

At 32 years old, Yerjanik Hayrapetyan has lived through four wars. Her journey began in 1992 during the Artsakh (Nagorno-Karabakh) liberation struggle when she was just six months old. Her family was forced to flee their village of Vaguhas in the Martakert province after it was captured and burned by Azerbaijani forces. For eight months, they lived under siege and finally found refuge in Armenia before returning to Artsakh a decade later to rebuild their lives from the ashes, like a phoenix rising from the flames.

“Nothing could break the spirit of an Artsakh native,” Hayrapetyan told the Weekly, reflecting on the resilience that defined their return. But the horrors of war reemerged, shaking the community once more during the April War of 2016. Hayrapetyan, a dedicated teacher, continued her lessons, determined to keep her students’ education uninterrupted even as the sounds of artillery echoed in the classroom. Life resumed after the ceasefire, but the scars remained.

In 2019, Hayrapetyan married and moved to Arajadzor, one of the most picturesque corners of historical Artsakh. They had just begun to settle into their new life when the 44-day war of 2020 began. Hayrapetyan’s daughter, like herself many years ago, was only six months old. Her husband was called to the front lines as an artilleryman. He fought bravely, sustaining a head injury during a clash on October 19, while several of his close friends were killed in action.

The war forced them out of their village again. Reluctant to leave, Hayrapetyan was persuaded by her husband to seek safety for the sake of their child. They found refuge in a hotel in Tsaghkadzor, Armenia, where they were welcomed for two months by generous hosts who provided shelter and comfort. The news of the capitulation hit hard, leaving them devastated and grappling with the loss and the bitter reality of the conflict’s aftermath.

Yerjanik Hayrapetyan with her students in Artsakh

Despite the challenges, Hayrapetyan and her husband returned to their village after the ceasefire, determined to rebuild once again. They opened a store and resumed work at the local school while managing a small family business. Life continued, but Azerbaijan’s looming presence was a constant reminder that things were not normal. Their agricultural and livestock ventures helped sustain them, but the blockade that followed brought new hardships.

“We began to value every moment, every resource,” Hayrapetyan said. They grew wheat and rye, milling flour to make bread and stocked up on preserves to avoid food shortages. As essential supplies dwindled — cooking oil, laundry detergent — she adapted, creating homemade detergent.

As the blockade continued, she improvised in ways she never thought possible, making desserts from jam juice and brewing coffee from barley. The lack of fuel meant she could not visit her childhood home, and movement between villages became increasingly difficult. Despite owning a store, her husband insisted they shouldn’t hoard supplies, ensuring their neighbors had enough. This selflessness, Hayrapetyan believes, is what ultimately spared them from the worst.

The new school year began as usual, but whispers of unrest on the frontlines filled the air. On the morning of September 19, 2023, Hayrapetyan dropped off her daughter at kindergarten before heading to work. As rumors spread about renewed fighting, her husband and other male teachers quickly readied themselves to defend their positions. Hayrapetyan rushed to collect her daughter and returned home, where her husband, already dressed in military uniform, was preparing to leave. They barely had time to eat before he and his comrades departed for the front.

That night, the sounds of shelling were deafening. Hayrapetyan couldn’t sleep, her mind racing with worry. At four in the morning her husband unexpectedly returned. He was physically unharmed but emotionally shattered. “I’m back, but my friends aren’t,” he told her, naming the soldiers who had been killed by enemy drones.

News spread that Azeri forces had taken control of Khachen bridge, forcing residents to flee once more. With only one car’s worth of fuel, Hayrapetyan’s family left Arajadzor, taking nothing but a thermos of tea for their daughter. They hoped it would be a brief departure, but as they reached the outskirts of Stepanakert, they realized the full extent of the invasion. Villages were falling one by one, and they had to abandon any hope of returning soon.

After several days in Stepanakert, they made their way to Armenia, leaving behind their dreams, their past and their future. “I don’t even have a single photo to show my daughter what my childhood was like,” Hayrapetyan said. 

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The family settled in Metsamor, where the difficulties continued. Hayrapetyan had worked as a teacher of Armenian language and literature for many years, serving as the deputy director of extracurricular activities at her school. But in Armenia, she struggled to find employment. Eventually, she accepted a part-time position at a remote village school in Arevadasht. The commute was grueling, often requiring her to change transportation four times just to get home. 

She now works at S. Galstyan High School in Metsamor, but her earnings are modest. She works part time with no additional bonuses, bringing her salary to just 50,000 drams ($130 USD) per month. Her husband, a former soccer player and coach, is unemployed. Despite his experience as a physical education teacher and volleyball coach, opportunities are scarce. 

“I often feel disheartened,” Hayrapetyan admitted. “People here don’t know about my work in Artsakh, the students I mentored who excelled in language competitions, or the certificates they brought home. It’s all in the past now.” Among her former students is the writer Armen Avo, who credits her with helping him find his voice in literature. Despite these achievements, she faces an uphill battle, starting from scratch in a place where her contributions often go unnoticed.

“We will return, and we will live with dignity again.”

The future remains uncertain, but Hayrapetyan is determined. “We are trying to rebuild from zero, lighting a fire on the green grass. We have nothing, not even the basic necessities,” she said, reflecting on the difficulties her family has endured. They went a year without a washing machine, washing clothes by hand until a relative donated an old one. Every expense is carefully considered, as they balance rent with other necessities.

But Hayrapetyan remains hopeful. “We will return, and we will live with dignity again,” she said. The challenges are immense, but she carries with her the unbreakable spirit of Artsakh — a spirit forged in the fires of war and tempered by the determination to rebuild, no matter how many times.

Anna Harutyunyan

Anna Harutyunyan

Anna Harutyunyan is a freelance journalist from Yerevan. She is currently studying at the Department of Journalism at the Armenian State Pedagogical University. Anna has successfully completed the one-year educational program at "Hetq Media Factory."

1 Comment

  1. Thank you, Anna Harutyunyan, for sharing with the readers of the Armenian Weekly Yerjanik Hayrabetyan and her young family’s plight. She surely embodies the resilient spirit of Artsakh. I wish you well too with your studies at the Department of Journalism at the Armenian State Pedagogical University and commend you for having already completed a milestone at Hedq Media Factor which I read is for investigative and responsible journalism.

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