Armenia and Azerbaijan are once more fighting over the disputed Nagorno-Karabakh region. In early October, a missile struck Ilgar Farzaliyev's home. The ensuing fire burned his house to the ground, and with it went most of his possessions. His silverware, glasses, family photos and much else — gone forever, Deutsche Welle writes in the article Civilians suffer amid Nagorno-Karabakh conflict.
Standing in what was once the entrance hall, Farzaliyev glances around the ruins of his former home, where he had lived for 35 years. ''The whole family was sitting here, watching TV. Suddenly there was an explosion in the backyard and everything started burning,'' he says, recalling the fateful day. ''We ran outside and called the firefighters, but when they arrived it was already too late.''
Farzaliyev lives in Barda, a small town in Azerbaijan some 20 kilometers (12.5 miles) from the Nagorno-Karabakh front line. He is convinced Armenian forces are responsible for the destruction of his house, and says there have been many Armenian attacks on civilian targets in the surrounding area in recent weeks.
A junior high school in Barda that was transformed into a temporary refugee shelter when fighting erupted one month ago. Now almost 100 families live here. Most of them are originally from the nearby town of Tartar on the Nagorno-Karabakh front line, where Armenian and Azerbaijan artillery units have been shelling each other for weeks. Most Tartar residents fled when fighting began, though a small number have chosen to stay behind and hunker down in their cellars.
The heavy thud of artillery fire can be heard all the way over at the Barda school. At the entrance to the building, children have laid red carnations before a black-and-white picture there. It's a memorial to an Azerbaijani soldier who was killed almost three decades ago in fighting over Nagorno-Karabakh.
Everyone at the school in Barda is convinced that Azerbaijan is on the right side of history. The deputy director of the school, Musella Musayeva, is also of this view. She does not believe that her country's forces are attacking Armenian civilians, that they are also being killed and driven out of their homes.
''I don't know much about what's happening on the Armenian side. I only know what I see on TV here,'' she says. ''But I can say that the Armenians are losing and must retreat. They don't have any other options. We are not trying to take Armenian territory — we are fighting for what belongs to us."
Zabil Aliyev sees things much the same way. He took refuge at the Barda school several weeks ago with his wife, Nahide, and three granddaughters. The five, who are also originally from Tartar, have taken shelter in a former classroom. Cups and plates cover the school tables, and a gas cooker sits on the floor. ''I am worried about the girls, they are just kids. They were so scared of the fighting,'' Aliyev says as he sits on a camp bed watching the children. ''How are they supposed to know what explosions are? They should go to school and study. But they shouldn't have to learn what bombs and missiles sound like." Aliyev doubts cease-fire agreements and diplomatic talks will lead anywhere.
Azerbaijan's president is relying on his army's advances — diplomacy or no diplomacy. ''Nobody can break our resolve,'' President Ilham Aliyev recently told senior military figures in a televised situation report. Nobody can foresee what price Armenian and Azerbaijan civilians will have to pay for the ongoing hostilities.
