Armenian Letters from Artsakh

We are our mountains, a massive sculpture located at the northern exit of Stephanakert, the capital of Artsakh, still called Nagorno-Karabakh, on the road to Asteran. This monument has become the symbol of the union of its inhabitants with their mountains. Text by Eléonore on 20 February 2002.

Their names are Elina, Arminé, Alina, Mariam, they are Armenians from Artsakh where a war took place that they experienced live at the end of 2020. They are 18 or 19 years old and are students at the Artsakh State University where they are learning French.  It is thanks to Nelly, their teacher, that we received these letters. They tell us about their life, their fear and their hope. You can write to them by sending us your letter, which we will forward to them on your behalf. Thank you

Artsakh, Stephanakert, June 2021



I am Elina, I am 19 years old. I was born in 2002 in the village of Vaghuhas in the Martakert region. I am a student of Artsakh State University, studying Armenian language and literature. I like children and I work with them, teaching them the Armenian language. I would love to become a teacher because I like this job. I dreamed of becoming a journalist to interview people, but I am also passionate about the work of a teacher.

My village is close to the border, it is beautiful to me. The people there are mainly engaged in animal husbandry. The village has a school, a club, an infirmary. You can find the Vaghuhas monastery (12th century), the monastic complexes of Karmir Vanq (13th century), and not far away, the Church of the Saint (12th-13th centuries) and other nice places.

We all had dreams and lived quietly, without fear, until April 27. On that day I woke up afraid of explosions and learned that the enemy had attacked our positions again. The enemy was using different weapons everywhere, it was awful. In this awful and inexplicable situation I decided to go to my sister’s house in the village of Avtaranots, in the Askeran region.

This village is now under the control of the enemies. We stayed there for five days, but eventually we realised that we had to leave the village, because the enemy drones were flying over the whole village. Because of this terrible war, my sister, my friend and my university friends have lost their villages. They are broken, they miss their villages very much and they hope to go back one day.

God is with us and we have a duty to make our homeland, our Artsakh, prosper. I wish peace and unity to all.

Elina, 19 years old

Letter in armenian

Hot air balloon over Stephanakert, capital of Artsakh, also called Nagorno-Karabakh.

Artsakh, Stephanakert, June 2021



My name is Arminé. I come from the village of Kusapat in the Martakert region. I am a student and I am 18 years old. I study Armenian language and literature at Artsakh State University and I dream to become a good specialist. I like the Martakert region and my village very much. Before the 1992 war and the forced migration, Martakert was the third largest city. Since that war and the 4-day war in 2016, people have barely resumed their daily lives. They used to do agriculture and cattle breeding. Martakert is known for its historical monuments, one can find here the monastery of Gandzasar (13th century), the church of Erek Mankunq (17th century), the monasteries of Horeka and Havaptuk (13th century) and others.

My home village, Kusapat, is very picturesque, its nature is remarkable, the village is not very populated, its inhabitants are very open and straightforward, and they mainly do cattle breeding and gardening. There is a school built in 1878, a kindergarten and an infirmary. There are also monuments dedicated to the memory of the victims of the first Artsakh war. The village is under our control and we hope to recover our regions and villages that are currently under Azeri control since November 2020.

September 27 was the worst day I have ever experienced. Sirens and horror were everywhere. My father, brother and uncle went to the line on the first day. We stayed in the village for 3 days under the explosions and fear. It was very hard to go to bed when you thought that the next second could be even worse. We all felt the pain of war, we died morally with each family that lost sons, husbands and acquaintances. It was terrible to find the names of those we knew on the lists of the dead or missing.

Never in my life would I want the generations that will replace us to see the war and its losses. Never…..

Arminé, 19 years old

Letter in armenian

13th century Armenian monastery of Gandzasar in the Martakert region.

Artsakh, Stephanakert, June 2021

Hello everyone,


My name is Alina. I am 19 years old. I study at Artsakh State University and I also study Armenian language and literature. I come from the village of Verin Horatagh in the Martakert region. Verin Horatagh is under our control, it’s not a big village but it’s beautiful nature with nice mountains. We have a school with about 100 students. There is a memorial to the victims of the Great War. I like my village very much, the people do cattle breeding and gardening. Since the war many people are unemployed, some have started to trade.

The village has nice places like Artsakht Aghbjur, Nunavur Aghbjur and many others.

I like my village very much, it is a beautiful place.

Alina, 19 years old

Letter in armenian

Harvest festival every year in October in all villages and towns of Artsakh accompanied by cultural events.

Artsakh, Stephanakert, June 2021



I am Mariam, I was born and live in Stepanakert, a beautiful part of the world. I am a student at Artsakh State University where I am in my first year and I study Armenian language and literature. We have also been learning French since February.

The 26th of September was a nice day, it was the day when the capital had put on its colours, when nice cultural events had been organised. And the next day? No, we were waiting for another day, a beautiful sunny autumn day.

But……..the enemy’s bombardment replaced the expected beautiful day and the singing of the birds. The next day, September 27, we had to leave for Armenia. I didn’t sleep all night, I only prayed to God. It seemed like April 2016: 4 days and it would have been over, but unfortunately not….

I remembered the gardens of my childhood, it seemed that it was my last visit there and if I could I would have hugged my city with all my strength.

My father, my brother and my friend had gone to the battlefield. All you could hear were explosions and my heart was bleeding to see people leaving the city. My city had become dead.

This is my city, it is here, my homeland is here, where my countrymen became victims of war. They are our heroes, they sacrificed their lives for us.

If I say that everything is calm today, I would be lying, because it is an uncertain situation…

If the enemy of a people is low, that people cannot sleep well: who knows what he may do again? It may well do something that will take thousands of lives…

My people exist and will exist….


Letter in armenian