Just look around at what they have done to us. The broad central avenue is strewn with glass blasted from bent and twisted windows. There is no electricity, no heat, no water, no trams, no medical care, no police, no fire trucks - none of the lifelines that keep a 20th century city alive. The fog is pierced by the hellish light of fires, many ignited when bombs hit gas mains. But nobody pays any heed.
People are too busy fighting or hiding in any shelter they can find.
Just to get water, residents must wait until the shooting diminishes, then race to the shores of the Sunzha River flowing through the city center, punch holes in the ice and haul up buckets. Anvar joins the conversation. The slim man in his 30s grips a brand-new sharpshooter's rifle. He is a Chechen whose family emigrated to Jordan in 1902, but he always considered Chechnya his homeland. Eight months ago, he came to Grozny to start what he hoped would be a lucrative tourist business.