Magdi spent most of the day at the shelter, silently sewing children’s clothes for the poor while reading a spiritual book.
Around 4 PM, she was supposed to go feed animals with a neighbor girl, but the girl was too afraid. Magdi suggested they pray first. After reciting a decade of the rosary, they went up and completed their tasks without harm.
Shortly after they returned, two armed soldiers arrived on motorcycles—one with a submachine gun and the other with a pistol. They headed toward the shelter entrance where the women were gathered to avoid spending all day in the dark bunker.
The soldier with the pistol descended the stairs. Magdi had tied a headscarf tightly around her head, pulling it forward to obscure her face. The soldier pointed inside and ordered her:
“Hajde, hajde…”
Without a word, Magdi obeyed. She slipped her hands into her jacket pockets—holding a rosary in one and a small pair of scissors she had used for sewing in the other. Her mother noticed and tried to pull her hands out, but Magdi resisted:
“Let me be, Mother. I am going now.”
She stepped into the dark, zigzagging interior of the bunker with the soldier following.
There was a tense silence for a few seconds. Witnesses later described events they had glimpsed, though no one observed everything precisely. Some recalled hearing a shot from inside the bunker, others did not.
Soon Magdi reappeared at the exit. Her scarf had slipped back, and her face showed signs of distress, though her voice remained calm:
“Annuska, run! You are next,” she told the neighbor girl. “I am going to die… Mother, go away, I am going to die.”
Magdi fled but did not run fast. Perhaps she could not anymore. Her words confirmed that death was near.
She emerged into the courtyard. Meanwhile, the soldier appeared at the other entrance, bleeding from a wound under his eye—Magdi must have defended herself. Enraged, the soldier immediately shot at her.
At the second shot, Magdi raised her arms toward the sky and then folded them in prayer, as priests do during Mass, saying:
“Lord, my King! Take me to Yourself!”
These were her last words.
She was hit by at least six more bullets. Though she staggered, she remained standing, without screaming or flailing, clutching her rosary in her pocket.
The final shot pierced her heart. Magdi fell forward onto her face.
The women scattered in fear. To make her body less conspicuous, the soldiers laid her on the shelter steps, possibly searching her for weapons.
Magdi’s father recounts:
“As soon as I heard what happened, I rushed over. The soldiers were still standing there.
I shouted at them in Russian: ‘You killed my daughter!’
They seemed startled and gruffly ordered me: ‘Take her away.’
I bent over my daughter. Her body was still warm, but life was gone.
I carried her home in sorrow. The soldiers shot at me twice more.
The bullets whistled past my ears.”