I am the author of the Goodacity blog, a journalist, and a translator. For 16 years, I have worked in professional journalism, contributing to regional and national publications, both in print and online media. I have written reports, conducted interviews, reviews, articles on cultural, social, and charitable topics, as well as materials in the style of "solution journalism" and communication materials.
My focus is on creating interesting and exclusive content. Journalism, to me, is primarily about human stories, to which I always find the key, empathize with the people I write about, and love all my heroes. Journalism, to me, means telling people about what truly matters to them, informing and inspiring them. It is not just a job, but a way of life, just like for all those who dream, create, and are inspired by it.
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I am a manager of cultural affairs and a project manager with over 14 years of experience at United Thinkers. I have participated in the organization of numerous successful social and charitable projects and have implemented informational campaigns and communication cases.
As a marketing manager, I have been involved in organizing marketing and sociological research, working with media and partners, developing advertising and marketing strategies, as well as planning and implementing advertising campaigns.
I believe in the power of goodness and I am happy that as part of the Goodacity project, I can contribute to its expansion. I believe in the power of words and in the fact that communication can help make the world a better place. I know how, where and when to speak in order to be heard. And when you are heard, you can change the world!
A warrior with a steel character
At 22 years old, Anatoliy Leonenko, a senior sergeant nicknamed “Buffalo”, is a young man from Chernihiv, Ukraine, who stood in defense of Mariupol, Ukraine. After losing a leg, he returned to service on a prosthesis and has spent a year and a half training fighters from the Azov Battalion.
His name is often accompanied by the word “legendary”: “Legendary instructor from ‘Azov’,” “legendary titan, unbreakable hero, and defender,” “steel warrior…”
“I feel awkward when people use such words,” he laughs. “My leg is made of steel, but as for everything else…”
“I was just doing what I believe to be normal, right for everyone: defending my country. And now – life goes on…”
During a conversation with him, one cannot help but be inspired by his resilience, determination, depth, and the motivation of a true patriot.
Speaking of battles in the besieged city, injuries, survival in the underground bunkers of Azovstal, and continued service even with a prosthesis, Anatoliy exudes such steadfastness and optimism that you immediately recognize you are in the presence of a warrior, not a victim.
The Most Terrifying Thing is to See Your Friends and Little Children Die
He could have been a professional athlete or pursued a career as a chef, but at 19, he chose to serve as a Ukrainian soldier. What followed were stints with the “Azov” unit, military brotherhood, war, the defense of besieged Mariupol, severe injury, and a miraculous rescue.
“There was a moment when I no longer believed I’d make it out alive,” he confesses.
Asked about his decision to return to the military even with a prosthesis, he replies simply and unpretentiously,
“If there’s a job to be done, it needs to be done.”
He speaks about his decision to join the military equally straightforwardly and unpretentiously.
“I wanted to test myself as a man, as a warrior, as a defender,” says Anatoliy. “I was curious to see and understand how strong I was in spirit and body.
From childhood, I was active in sports: football, kayaking, kickboxing. I entered the Chernihiv Cooperative College to train as a chef – but realized that it wasn’t for me. I signed a contract with the National Guard and was admitted to the Yevhen Konovalets Military School of Sergeants, where I underwent basic training. I spent the last two years in Mariupol, based with ‘Azov’, leading a squad. That’s where the great war found me… I can’t say it was unexpected: every year, we saw Russia massing its army at our borders.
The assault began from the first minutes of the full-scale Russian invasion, and intensified daily. “
“The city was bombarded 24/7 – with mortar salvos, aerial bombs, and naval artillery joining in. Was it scary? When we came face to face with a Russian DRG (sabotage group) and bullets whizzed overhead for the first time, fear completely ‘shut off’… Only strategy and tactics remained – everything I had learned in the previous years.”
What was the hardest part of being surrounded in Mariupol?
“The worst part is seeing your friends and little children die… It’s the most terrifying and hardest thing imaginable. It’s something you can never, and should never, get used to.”
“Just recently, my comrade Shram from the ‘Third Assault’ of Ukraine said – and I completely agree with him: you can get used to anything – to cold, to hunger, to constant pain. But not to the loss of loved ones and seeing dead bodies just outside your building entrance… And they’re mostly civilians – children and women…
For me personally, it was also very hard to know that while I was in besieged Mariupol, which was constantly being bombarded, my mother was in besieged Chernihiv, suffering the same brutal attacks. It’s incredibly difficult – calling your mom who is hiding in a basement from explosions half a thousand kilometers away, knowing that she’s also in hell, and you’re not there with her… You see people dying daily in Mariupol because they left the basement to fetch water or find food, and you horrifically realize the same is happening in your hometown. It pained me greatly to see people dying daily, knowing the same could happen to your family, and you can’t help or prevent it… And you often can’t even contact them by phone because there’s almost no communication. That was a very tough moment.”
After Amputation, Life Goes On
Anatoliy received his injury while he and his comrades were attempting to destroy a Russian tank that had maneuvered into the rear of the city and was firing at their positions. As they retreated to a nearby apartment building, a 120mm shell hit them…
“The explosion was so powerful that I bent the metal railings near the entrance. A shrapnel fragment severed my left leg — it wasn’t torn off immediately, but I knew it was no longer functioning… I managed to radio ‘Buffalo – 300’ before I lay down and prepared to say goodbye to life. My friend dragged me to the basement, applied a tourniquet — and considering that I normally weigh 65 kilograms, with all my gear I was over 110 kilograms, and he himself had his leg badly damaged by the mine… Later, our comrades came for us, carried us out on blankets to a vehicle. They took me to the Illich plant — there, they operated, hoping to save my leg, but after three days, it had to be amputated. I was actually ‘lucky’ at the time; the doctors still had anesthesia, so they amputated my leg with painkillers — within a few weeks, there were hardly any drugs or medications left, no anesthesia, and amputations had to be done with just a kitchen knife. But despite the dire situation, everyone was ready to fight to the end. After the amputation, I was transferred to ‘Azovstal.’
‘Azovstal’ was for me a point of no return, both literally and metaphorically. Honestly, I did not expect to get out of there alive — I knew I was lying underground, with a severed leg, having lost about two liters of blood, unable to help my comrades, and knowing only one thing — that if the enemy broke into our bunker, I would fight to the last…”
“That I was evacuated from there — two helicopters flew in, risking their lives to rescue and evacuate the wounded — was a stroke of great fortune and the courage of those who came to save us was immense. And the world watched live as we died there, doing nothing. Only Ukrainians cared…”
Afterward, Anatoliy went through hospitals, surgery, rehabilitation… He quickly accepted the fact that this was now his reality — he understood that crying and getting upset wouldn’t regrow his leg… Life goes on.
“I see it as if amputation is like graduating from school: it just means a new stage of life begins. All my comrades who lost limbs or suffered severe injuries — they keep their spirits up… The injury didn’t break me, because if a person with a pure soul and a firm idea in his heart fully commits to his chosen cause, nothing can break him.
“Six months after the injury, I was already walking on a prosthesis — it’s a regular, everyday prosthesis, not a sports one; I can’t run or jump on it, nothing extraordinary…”
When asked about his decision to return to the military even with a prosthesis, he answers simply and without pretense:
“I had unfinished tasks, so I had to return to duty. No, not even that — I wanted to, it was my desire… That’s why I returned. Plus, at that time, a huge number of our Azov fighters were in captivity — just as now, few have returned — there wasn’t a large part of the well-trained personnel, so… If there’s work to be done, it needs to be done. Thus, even with the prosthesis, I became an instructor in firearms and tactical training, teaching the young fighters of the ‘Azov’ battalion.
What’s next? We’ll see. Life goes on. What does victory mean to me? For me, victory is when we have a government we can rely on when we avenge every murdered Ukrainian child, woman, and every fallen soldier… We don’t need their territories — their swamps aren’t for us! We need to reclaim our territories and fight for the chance to live peacefully in our country again.
My leg is a small thing compared to what’s happening… When I joined the service, I understood all the risks, and I don’t regret getting injured because I fought alongside my brothers in arms, and for me, it’s an honor. We will never surrender or retreat; our victory depends on the soldiers currently in the trenches and on the dedicated people in the rear.
And most importantly — remember: by helping my brothers, you’re not only saving their lives and making their work more comfortable, you are saving the lives of children, mothers, and bringing us closer to our great goal — Free, Independent, United Ukraine. Glory to Ukraine!”
