“Amochka’s child is just as handsome,” said Zainap. “It’s a shame he has no father…”
Ama blushed.
“Goal!” came shouts from the yard.
I went over to the window.
Women were standing by the porch, and a little further away, in the meadow, children were kicking a ball. I took photos of them. They shouted excitedly:
“Terek is the champion!”
“Here you go!”
“Pass!”
“You missed!”
It was interesting that they were shouting in Russian, here, in the remote Vedeno region – the most untamable, the homeland of Basaev. Football. Oh yes, Chechnya beat TSSKA yesterday. Chechnya or Nokhch. Children of Noah.
“This land is inhabited by children,” I thought. “How expressive the children here are! Children are the most important people here!”
There were many of them, terribly many. I recalled the cro
