Shuddering from the explosions outside, leaving home, despair and constant tears, an irreconcilable sense of injustice. We have all watched our democratic Ukraine turn into a country of mass terror and refugees. For almost a month now, Russian President Vladimir Putin has been invading a country of 40 million people in the center of Europe, and continues to massacre ordinary citizens under the guise of fighting Nazism. Most victims of Putin’s war are in the south-eastern regions, where the majority speak Russian. Did Putin really think that Russian speakers in these areas were not Ukrainian and were somehow praying to be ‘rescued’?
In less than a month, more than three million Ukrainians have become refugees, while the number of victims and wounded cannot be counted because of blockades against cities and regions. My home region — Kherson — is on the edge of a humanitarian disaster. It is the only region whose administrative center the Russians have managed to capture, and there is a desperate lack of food and medicine. But this is nothing compared to what’s happened in Kharkiv, Kyiv Region and the devastated city of Mariupol, where people have been forced to drink water from melted snow or home radiators, and where one child has even died of dehydration.
I no longer have a life of my own. For me, no-one is uninvolved in the genocide of my nation; and it feels like the passive “uninvolved” observer is as cruel and as responsible as the active murderer.
All the years of my adulthood I had grown accustomed to the words “never again” as an incantation about the horrors of war and terrorism. I’ve always had faith but now I see my long-suffering Ukraine choking with blood once again, as we watch upon fleeing mothers in tears burying their children.
Now my fiancé Pavlo has also gone to the frontline. There are no words to describe what it felt like to watch him go. I was just frozen inside.
But I am still here, in Ukraine. I have moved to Lviv, but sometimes I come back to Kyiv when I need to. The road is dangerous, there are checkpoints and I never travel alone. I try to avoid being besieged and to find myself in an area where there’s fighting. After all, Kyiv is almost completely surrounded.
True, I have plenty of opportunities to get away. There are good conditions abroad and I could experience safety from there, knowing that I don’t have to fall victim to my state’s embattled history. I’m sure no one would judge me. I am blessed every day to receive a bunch of messages offering to welcome me into the comfort of the Western world.
I’m grateful but, you know, I’ll still be here. Because I believe in my army and my people. Because I believe that 80 years of the “Never Again” mantra should produce results.
People used to look for a rational explanation for what a person does and how they behave. Now we all do what we feel has to be done.
Valeria Fadeeva, 29, is at the humanitarian foundation in Lviv. She has come from Donbas and was running away from war for the second time. She could have easily gone to Poland where she had lived for seven years, but she had an urgent need to do something for Ukraine. In Lviv, she has become a conduit for transporting foreign humanitarian aid through Ukraine.
Businessman Kostyantyn Yevtushenko, 37, sent his beloved wife and three children abroad, and he and his brother and parents have formed a business to transport much-needed items to the affected regions. Today, they cannot count the number of migrants and refugees who have passed through their house. It’s hard to find a place in Lviv now, even for one night.
We are Ukraine. What do we have to defend if we leave? The country and its people are one.
This war is a watershed moment in the history not only in Ukraine, but across the entire civilized world. If Putin wanted to change the world order, he has succeeded, but not in the way he intended. His brutal and cynical aggression has caught the attention of the world.
The sanctions and restrictions now imposed on Russia are unprecedented. A month ago, no-one could have imagined that Germany would stop Nord Stream 2 and agree to provide lethal weapons to Ukraine, that Russia would be cut off from SWIFT and that Western countries would even sanction the country’s central bank. Even historically neutral Switzerland has for the first time in history chosen a side — for democracy and against an aggressive expansionist.
The unity of nations that built upon capitalism, democracy and meritocracy is showing its strength. Putin has stirred Europe to show all the best qualities of this successful part of the world.
And while there has been no success yet in halting the war, we know that it has already brought tectonic and irreversible changes for the better.
Ukraine continues to be persecuted because of its chosen political direction. But our country is no longer the helpless victim that simply stands still or rolls over when threatened. In the eight years since Russia attacked our country in 2014, we have rethought a lot of things and prepared for any eventuality.
We believe in our military. We are ready to help our armed forces, we know how to volunteer, we can raise money and we can coordinate aid.
Moreover, we know the territory much better than invading Russian soldiers do. After all, this is our land. And we feel victorious now, because we know how much it means to have values that are important to protect, and to have friends who have each other’s backs.
Today, Ukraine’s flag adorns global publications, and our national anthem punctuates television news reports. But now we are a country standing up for democracy instead of always asking for help. This war has shown the true face of Russia. We stand in solidarity and face the world’s most aggressive dictator with weapons, hopes, prayers, and actions. And that’s what already makes us winners.
