«To prevent searches at checkpoints, I acted like a detective», - says policeman from «20 Days in Mariupol»

«Women's Territory» is a nationwide organisation that has united women worldwide. Over nearly 11 years of existence, they have implemented dozens of projects, including cultural ones. The head of the organisation, Liliia Shevchenko, believes that a person who knows their roots automatically understands who they are and what they must do to preserve their country. The full-scale war has altered the organisation's operations. They have already delivered over five hundred tonnes of humanitarian aid to military personnel and civilians. They support families of prisoners of war and help women who have experienced violence. Moreover, they are expanding their presence in Europe.

Nataliia Zhukovska: Ms Liliia, you are the head of the «Women's Territory» organisation. What is this territory like?

Liliia Shevchenko: Our nationwide public organisation «Women's Territory» was founded by ideologically driven women who live and breathe Ukraine. This is not an empty phrase but the pure truth. «Women's Territory» is neither defined nor limited by borders. It is not only the territory of those residing in Ukraine but also the territory of women worldwide, especially now, when millions of Ukrainian women, fleeing war, have found temporary refuge in many European countries. We want to help them systematically. So, we decided that «Women's Territory» would now operate under the umbrella of the host country and its laws. Currently, work on the documents for «Women's Territory» in Poland is nearing completion. We have held talks with representatives from the Polish Ministry of Social Policy and with relocated Ukrainian businesses and Polish businesses. How will they help Ukrainian women in Poland? Primarily by organising Sunday schools. This is important so that children while learning about the culture of their host country, do not forget their Ukrainian heritage. Given that Ukraine is in a full-scale war and most funds from businesses and ministries are allocated to military needs, there is insufficient funding from the Ministry of Education for books and educational materials for children abroad. One of the tasks of «Women's Territory» is not only to establish Sunday schools but also to print books. We have already held talks with the «Gutenberg» publishing house. We will distribute books for free, starting with our Sunday schools.

We already have a developed base, so organising work in Poland will not be difficult. One of our members opened the first art school in Warsaw at the end of 2022 and has already received small grants from the local Polish authorities. The school offers free art classes to both Ukrainian and Polish children.

One of the messages of «Women's Territory» is that we not only take from the countries that shelter us but also give to them

We have provided Europe with qualified specialists. Due to the war in Ukraine, many educators, medical professionals and managers moved to the EU. Many of them have already had their diplomas recognised. For instance, our member, who led «Women's Territory» in Dnipro, now lives in Gdansk, has confirmed her qualifications, and is a qualified lawyer. Her mother also verified her diploma and works as a dentist. So, we offer our knowledge and services to the Polish people as well. We want the Poles to understand that they do not only give but also receive. This will also be one of the tasks of «Women's Territory» in Poland.

We will also focus on women's leadership and gender issues. A woman must understand her status and significance in society.

How has the organisation's work changed since the start of the full-scale war?

«Women's Territory» shifted 90 per cent towards volunteer activities. In Poland, for example, we partnered with several Polish foundations that had a 400-square-metre volunteer warehouse in Warsaw. We are grateful to the Poles for covering its rental costs for an extended period. It was packed to the ceiling with humanitarian aid, ranging from clothing and food to expensive medical supplies, which we distributed to Ukrainian hospitals. For example, we had diffuser devices, each costing around 2500 euros, with over a thousand in stock. We equipped hospitals with beds, X-ray machines, and vitamins. Both Ukrainians and Poles worked at the warehouse. We dispatched trucks loaded with aid based on recipients' requests and provided support to relocated family-type children's homes and care facilities for the elderly. We received tourniquets and body armour and raised funds for drones. We did not merely adapt to new challenges - we also helped others adapt to them.

Who are the members of your organisation?

There are around two thousand of us. There are women, heads of departments, who have their own public organisations and foundations. For example, our member is Iryna Mikhniuk - a widow, the wife of a fallen Hero of Ukraine. Since 2014, she has headed the organisation «Wings of the Eighth Hundred» - it consists of widows, wives of the fallen, and children. In Ukraine, there are already 19 officially registered branches of ours. The team includes women from various professions and financial backgrounds, but with a shared ideological mindset and vision. There are also military personnel, such as Viktoria Khrystenko, who was the first adviser to the Admiral of the Ukrainian Navy.

In my team, there is a board member of «Women's Territory» from Donetsk, Alina Khaletska, who was forced to flee her native city. Her family had a unique background. Her husband worked for the Donetsk administration, and she herself is a lecturer, professor and academician. They left everything behind when they fled. Upon arriving in Irpin, they worked hard to save money and eventually started purchasing a flat. Sadly, during the full-scale war, it was destroyed by an enemy shell. They endured the occupation in Irpin. In other words, they have lived through occupation twice in their lifetime. This woman was offered work abroad. Where do you think she is? In Irpin. She does not wish to leave Ukraine.

What problems do women approach you with?

Many women joined us when we became part of the coalition «Women, Peace, Security». These are activists fighting for women's leadership and supporting victims of violence. In Ukraine, this remains a major issue, especially in places like Bucha and Irpin. You are likely familiar with some of these stories. There is much I know but cannot share publicly. Our agreement is to not speak of experiences unless we were participants. I am a witness. These are stories lived by women, girls, or children. They share their stories themselves if they wish to. All stories are heavy. How do we support them? I always advocate for mutual assistance and supporting one another. It is crucial to speak with them very carefully, as every word can be traumatising.

We help them regain their footing, providing a sense of sisterhood and the reassurance that they are not alone - that we stand together

We stress that anyone could find themselves in a similar situation. Our message is one of solidarity. Sometimes, we involve these women in processes by seeking their help to show them they are needed. Engagement, even minimal, can serve as a distraction and relief. We have no formal programme for this, our approach has been refined over many years.

Additionally, through a memorandum of cooperation with municipal employment centres, we assist women in retraining and finding jobs. We collaborate closely with the Ministry of Veterans. Many of the women in «Women's Territory» are defenders who were once civilians. We were the first to help sew military uniforms and undergarments for women. We also sourced anatomical body armour specifically designed for them.

What has the organisation accomplished during its existence?

Our lives are now divided into «before» and «after» the full-scale war. Prior to it, we had a powerful project that united Ukrainian children living abroad. We also established the International Festival of Cultural and Creative Industries, known as «Women's Territory», which we later renamed «Masters' Territory». If not for the full-scale war, this festival would have received funding from the Ministry of Culture and Information Policy. It was a platform that elevated Ukrainian crafts, demonstrating that Ukrainian products are not merely sold at fairs and markets, but even in five-star hotels. For now, this project has been put on hold. Today, we focus on uniting Ukrainian women abroad.

We strive to ensure that Ukraine is not forgotten. Our initial focus is on registering «Women's Territory» in Poland and France. Next, we plan for Belgium, Switzerland, Germany and Spain

We have provided female defenders with over 1200 boxes containing first-aid kits, vitamins, special olive-based creams to prevent skin cracking and even perfumes.

Every woman should feel like a woman, no matter where she is. We even provided hair dye tailored to their colour types. Once, I asked the women to take photos for a media campaign to raise funds for these boxes. They sent back pictures - clean, with hairstyles and manicures. It turned out they had travelled to a district centre and, using their own money, found skilled manicure artists and hairdressers. They told me, «Lilia, when we opened these boxes, we felt like we were at home». You see, they received a psychological breath of happiness.

Your organisation has helped women with children evacuate from dangerous areas to avoid occupation. How did this happen, and how many people have you assisted?

We do not have exact numbers on how many people we have helped. We evacuated people from Melitopol, Berdyansk, Kherson, Donetsk region, and the left, already occupied, bank of the Zaporizhzhia region. Of course, we were assisted by the military. I am unsure if I am allowed to disclose the details of every rescue story. I will share one - the story of a mother with two children who were leaving Melitopol. At that time, her daughter was 15, and her son was three years old. Their father was in the Armed Forces of Ukraine. If the Russians had found this out, they would have been executed. She instructed her children to remain silent and, if necessary, to respond only in Russian. On their way, Russian soldiers armed with weapons boarded the bus to conduct checks. Approaching them, the muzzle of a rifle hanging on one soldier's shoulder accidentally pressed against the child's head. The boy was so terrified that he wets himself to this day. They were interrogated, their phone SIM cards were examined, and the family endured multiple rounds of hell. It later turned out they were fortunate that the child was not undressed. Only later did the mother notice a hidden sheet of A4 paper on her son's chest. On it was a drawing of his father in military uniform, with a flag and the words «Glory to Ukraine!». The boy had placed that drawing there himself. To him, it represented Ukraine, his life. If the Russians had seen that drawing, they would have been executed. We have many such stories.

Do you keep in touch with the families you have assisted?

Someday, I will revisit those lists. But for now, our priority is to officially establish «Women's Territory» in Europe and America. We are resilient, genuine, and active. We are women accustomed to giving, not taking. Perhaps in time, I will become more interested in the fates of those we have helped. However, I often question whether reaching out would be beneficial or if it might unintentionally bring harm.

You travel abroad frequently. What do you talk about there, how do foreigners react, and what interests them most?

I talk about the solidarity and resilience of the Ukrainian people. I share the harsh realities of war we face, the immense challenges, and our efforts to overcome them. My message is always framed to emphasise the need for support in these efforts. I say, «We are taking action, not standing by. Help us in this war in any way you can - through expertise, humanitarian aid, or military support». We consistently highlight the need to support the Ukrainian army, and I know our message is being heard.

«Women's Territory» supports prisoners of war and continuously participates in various campaigns. Do you believe these efforts contribute to exchanges?

Absolutely. We have been supporting the families of prisoners of war since the start of the war in 2014. We organise events with the mothers, wives, and children of captured marines. Do you remember those taken prisoner in Crimea at the beginning of the war? We brought the mother and daughter of one of the marines to the UN so that their speech could raise awareness and tell the truth about the war in Ukraine. Any information campaign must be planned and ongoing. Such initiatives not only ensure that the world does not forget those in captivity but also help the relatives of prisoners of war feel they are not alone, preventing them from being lost in their grief. Tragedy unites. We have many poignant stories related to the return of prisoners of war. Recently, there was a soldier on the list who had been eagerly awaited by everyone. They thought he had come back. However, it turned out it was not him. The surname was the same, but the first name was different.

You also conduct training sessions for government institutions on communication with veterans and their families. What are the key principles you focus on?

I will illustrate with the example of the Kyiv City Employment Centre. Engaging with a military veteran, a defender or a servicewoman, requires a particular approach. For instance, we - as empaths - often feel the urge to approach a soldier on the street and say, «Thank you for your service. Glory to Ukraine». We might want to hug them and say, «You are a hero!». Yet, almost none of this should be said or done. These are triggers. If you call them heroes, they often do not perceive themselves that way. This is why we educate not only employees of state institutions but also the civilian population. The most important thing is teaching how to understand and engage with these individuals. For example, when they come to the Kyiv City Employment Centre, the manager who interacts with them must be highly qualified and aware that every soldier might experience flashbacks. We train them to pay attention to facial expressions, eyes, and behaviour. Employees of such institutions must be prepared for any possible scenario because almost all soldiers have experienced concussions. Furthermore, there must be barrier-free access and inclusivity.

Veterans must be actively involved in rebuilding Ukraine after the war, not left idle at home

Sociologists warn of a crisis facing the country after the war, particularly a demographic one. Do you think Ukrainian women will return from Europe after the victory? What steps are needed to ensure this?

I am unsure if I can speak openly about this, but yes, we are facing a demographic crisis. A baby boom will not be enough to solve this. We are exploring solutions because it concerns our future. Will women return from abroad? The longer the full-scale war continues, the less likely it becomes. Many divorces are happening now. Numerous women have adapted to their children's needs, and most of these children are assimilating into the societies where they now live. We have already encountered such cases among my members. They lived abroad. The daughter wanted to return, but the son did not. He had adapted, made friends, and was better accepted in his class than he had been at home. He likes the new country.

We must understand that parents' decisions will be influenced by their children. Therefore, we need to prioritise working with children abroad

Moreover, many women abroad have managed to realise themselves better or earn more than they did at home. For example, she was a nurse in a hospital in western Ukraine, and now she works as a nurse in Wroclaw. In Poland, she earns significantly more. Our officials must listen to society and start developing a programme to bring Ukrainian women home today. «Women's Territory» will undoubtedly contribute to this effort, primarily with its experience and resources. After all, we live in this country - to defend, revive, and provide it with a future. Fortunately, the majority of «Women's Territory» members abroad understand this.

After photographer Evgeniy Maloletka, videographer Mstyslav Chernov and fixer Vasylysa Stepanenko managed to escape the Russian-encircled Mariupol in mid-March 2022, their footage from the first 20 days of the occupation caused a massive global reaction.

Today, Evgeniy Maloletka holds more international and national awards than any other Ukrainian photographer - around 40. Notably, he is a Pulitzer Prize laureate for Public Service, a recipient of the James Foley Award for Conflict Reporting, and the Shevchenko and Georgiy Gongadze national prizes. He also won an Oscar for the documentary «20 Days in Mariupol». We spoke with Evgeniy about the feelings of futility when facing human indifference, the people who helped him escape from occupation, his ambitions to make it into history books and the strategies he uses to avoid burnout.

«Camera does not protect you»

Kseniya Minchuk: How did you start photographing the war?

Evgeniy Maloletka: Although I have a degree in electronic devices and systems engineering, photography captivated me during my student years. I worked for several editorial offices. In 2010, I went to cover the protests in Belarus. After that, I documented both sides of our revolution: the protests for and against Yanukovych, and then Maidan. I worked in conflict zones around the world, including various UN missions in Africa. Eventually, I found myself on the train that brought me to the war.

I am originally from Berdyansk. When I looked at the map and saw Russia intensifying its actions, I realised that a full-scale war was inevitable. And when you understand that something terrible, like war, is about to happen, you ask yourself: «Where do I want to be, and what do I want to do? Where do I need to be to make that happen?» Although when that «terrible» thing arrives, plans can break. But at the very least, you should be technically prepared, which is what I did.

From there, the most important thing is your knowledge and your ability to adapt quickly. The more you know and the faster you react, the more you can accomplish.

- One of the most heart-wrenching photos by Evgeniy Maloletka, and of the war in general, is the series from Mariupol where young parents rush to the hospital with their injured baby, only to learn that the child has died. It is unimaginably devastating. How do you cope with the pain you witness and capture with your camera? Is photography itself a method?

- Definitely not. The camera does not protect you. You keep looking at these people in the photos and you go through it with them. The faces of the parents, and later the doctors - you see the hope fade from their eyes... and that pain never leaves you, it stays with you forever. I live with it. Constantly. I had to learn how to coexist with it.

The footage from «20 Days in Mariupol» - is the pain that will stay with me for the rest of my life. I saw it live. I have rewatched the film many times, and now I do not cry anymore. But inside, the emotions are still incredibly heavy and intense.

For me, every photo of the war is the most terrifying. They are like flashbacks, like a dream. Like something that happened to someone else. But no - it happened to me.

I am constantly confronted with grief. I have to edit, show it to the world, look at the photos of other photographers. Human bodies, destroyed buildings, lives taken. These emotions are overwhelming. And there is still so much more horror I will have to capture.

Sometimes the things you did not capture are more terrifying

What keeps me going is the awareness that I am doing a small, yet important job. Hoping that it is not in vain. That the world will see it, remember it, because every photograph represents a human story. And it is crucial that we ourselves do not forget our own history. That is why I keep doing it.

- You have documented the protests against Yanukovych that led to his removal, the pandemic and now the war. Do you see your work as an important mission?

- Sometimes it is disappointing when photos get little attention. But other times, a story I captured goes viral. The more you work and the more your photos are seen and elicit a reaction, the stronger the sense that it is not in vain.

At least, I hope it is not.

I understand that only the things we remember will remain in history

We will remember people’s stories through the photos and videos that moved us. Only a small part of what has happened during this war will make it into history.

I hope the work we are doing will end up in books and textbooks so future generations can learn what our people went through and understand what war really is.

- Do you feel any satisfaction from what you do?

- That is a tough question. Yes and no. Because I photograph horrifying things that people do not want to see. And you force them to look. People, especially outside Ukraine, in Europe for example, mostly want to see positive things. Even here, we tend to think like that. If the strike hit the house next door and not ours - thank God! But in that neighbouring house, people died...

- Have there been moments when you could not bring yourself to photograph what was happening?

- Of course. There were times when I put the camera down and helped because no one else was around. If you see that you can help in some way, you do it.

«We went through 16 Russian checkpoints, and they let us through each one»

- You arrived in Mariupol an hour before the war started. Did you understand what you were getting into?

- Yes. It is impossible to predict every detail, but Mstyslav Chernov, Vasylysa Stepanenko and I knew that the city would likely be encircled. We went to Mariupol deliberately, to be surrounded. Consciously.

Of course, it was terrifying. We travelled at night, and it was eerily quiet and tense. We prepared for various scenarios and even joked that we were heading to the city that would become one of the starting points of World War III...

- How often were you under fire in Mariupol?

- Constantly. I would wake up in the morning at the hotel and go outside to film the building across the street because it had just been destroyed. There was no need to travel anywhere.

- You worked without electricity, water, the internet, and under constant danger. What decisions saved your lives?

- We were lucky in many ways, but some specific decisions and people truly saved our lives. There were tough moments when we barely escaped from areas that the occupiers had already surrounded.

For a while, we lived in a hospital that sheltered us. We became friends with the doctors, sleeping in the corridors where everyone had moved to avoid the shelling, and when necessary, we helped carry stretchers with the wounded. Then the building next to us was taken by the Russians. Tanks rolled out onto the streets. Their forces advanced, and aircraft were deployed. Street fighting raged around the hospital, and we were inside. Then our military came for us and said, «Pack up, we are running». And we ran with them. That saved us.

Another instance was when we finally got out of the encircled area, but I lost my car - it was destroyed. A police officer named Volodymyr offered to drive us out of Mariupol. He risked his life and the lives of his family to take us in his car, even though we had met just two days earlier.

His car was shot up, the windows were gone, but it was still drivable. He, his wife, and their child took the three of us (myself, Vasylysa, and Mstyslav) into their vehicle. And that is how we got out.

- Vasylysa told me this story, and I still can not grasp how you managed to pull it off…

- We passed through 15 or 16 Russian checkpoints, and at each one, they let us through. The occupiers had only just begun implementing their filtration process. Perhaps it helped that we did not take the same route as others. The truth is, you never know exactly what saved you. But if the Russians had found the footage we shot or realised we were Ukrainian journalists, we all would have suffered - us, and Volodymyr with his family.

One warrior does not make a battle

- There is a concept known as «survivor’s guilt», a feeling often experienced by those who fled the war and went abroad. Did you feel something similar when you escaped Mariupol?

- We thought about why we could not stay longer, especially because we did not capture the events at the drama theatre, where so many people died... But the fact that we survived at all - that is a miracle.

- Vasylysa mentioned her fear of going to Mariupol, and that your and Mstyslav’s confidence inspired her. Is it easier to work in a team or alone?

- There is a saying, «One warrior does not make a battle». I am convinced of that. In difficult circumstances, you need to be with people you trust, who are on the same wavelength as you.

If, God forbid, you get injured, you need to have your people by your side, who know what to do. Mstyslav had significant experience working in war zones, and I had some experience in our own war.

In the summer of 2021, I took a course in first aid. I already knew how to apply tourniquets and do other essential things, but refreshing those skills is critical when you live in a country at war. Life taught me how to act during shellings.

Vasylysa and I started working together about a month before the full-scale invasion. Before Mariupol, we actually tried to talk her out of going. But she made her choice because she wanted to be with us. She took the risk. She is brave.

- Who inspires you?

- Mstyslav, Vasylysa and I inspire each other. But above all, I am inspired by our people.

Ukrainians are incredibly strong. They have suffered so much from the war, but they do not give up. I often see soldiers who have been wounded but have not lost their immense life potential and energy. For example, there is a soldier who underwent about 60 surgeries and had both limbs amputated. He says: «It’s nothing. I have my whole life ahead of me». He is undergoing rehabilitation and can now walk up the stairs by himself. His goal is to «get his two kids on their feet». How can you not be inspired by that?

My grandmother worked until she was 82, until her last day. She was an engineer and had been disabled since childhood due to polio. Despite having a severe disability, she went to work every day. It was hard for her to climb to the third floor, but she did it. She always said that you can not just sit or lie down, that you have to keep moving. After the full-scale invasion began, my parents had to leave their home and became internally displaced. But my father did not fall into depression or anything like that. Even at over 60, he continues to work.

I do not want to sound pretentious, but what is the point of life if you are only doing everything for yourself? I realise that in war, it is those who care who show up. And I never want to stop caring

For me, it is important not to stand aside. To take part in something that matters.

It is also crucial not to burn out. We are in the middle of a long marathon, and we need to maintain the pace to make it to the end - without losing strength or the sense of why we are doing it.

- But how? What helps you with that?

- It is a difficult period right now. I try not only to photograph but also to help my colleagues, especially young talented photographers, develop. That inspires me too.

- Are there any photographs that make you feel joyful and happy?

- Of course. I love taking pictures of my son. Watching him grow, mature and just seeing how cool he is.

- What can each of us do to help achieve victory?

- We should all do what we do best. Every day. How else? Some people fight, some make drones, others protest abroad, and we do journalism. It all matters. Every action. Every person.

I lie on a couch in a small kitchen somewhere in Warsaw, enjoying the aromas - onions, beetroots, carrots and tomatoes are quietly simmering in the pan. Such is the smell of the prospect of being fed borsch.

My friend is cozily bustling by the stove while I exhale my fatigue after an early flight from Paris. It is still 5 hours until my train to Kyiv, and I stopped by with a bottle of wine and a bag of sweets (there are also two little fans of Haribo gummy bears in this house). In return, I received coffee with treats, plenty of conversation and an unexpected homely feeling of comfort you only find at your mom’s or your other closest ones’ places, where you can visit without any formalities and shamelessly sprawl on the couch while lunch is being prepared.

Why have I not taken advantage of this great offer before? - I think to myself. After all, I fly often, and the opportunity to visit someone I know for coffee in a foreign city is a big help. However, this also concerns unfamiliar people.

I remember writing a Facebook post once asking if anyone was willing to let me in to take a shower at their place in Warsaw. I then received dozens of warm invitations, mostly from Ukrainian women I did not know. Well, now I actually do have a place to drink coffee and shower in almost every Polish or European city.

This is also a mark of our new reality: there are many Ukrainian women scattered around the world as of late, and the majority (at least, those whom I know personally) yearn for the opportunity to see each other, talk face to face and envelop their kin in their kindness.

My thoughts are interrupted by a joyful girl hopping into the kitchen on one foot. She is wearing a cast on her second leg, though she does not seem bothered by this problem at all. «Mom, you promised us lody (ice cream in Polish)!» Over two years of this family's life in Poland is evident in the way this girl and her brother communicate in a tender mix of Ukrainian and Polish words.

«Yes-yes, we’re going now», - my friend agrees, and like a multi-armed Indian goddess, she manages to simultaneously tend to her borsch, prepare the temporarily rented stroller, help her daughter get dressed for the walk - all with such ease that I’m candidly amazed by her.

- It’s the antidepressants, - she laughs. - You know, things have brightened up lately. I even realised I don’t yell at the kids anymore. At all! Can you imagine?

And so, I will spend a couple more hours in this house, observing this family’s life. Of course, my observations will be shallow and incomplete, the tip of the iceberg, so to speak, and even so I will still be able to experience many things.

«You know, I rarely even allow myself to have a glass of wine over here, - my friend says, placing the wine bottle I brought on the top shelf. - Just the other day, we had this broken leg from a bicycle accident… Ugh, what a nightmare it was. And I realised once again that I can't afford to relax even for a moment. Injuries and things like that always happen unexpectedly.»

How can I afford a moment of weakness or an unclear conscience if I am the only one responsible for the children here? I am the only adult here, you understand?

I’m not sure if I do understand, as I have never been in her place. And even though there were times in my life when my husband was on the frontlines, and I would end up being the only adult taking care of our son, my closest relatives and friends would still be beside me - what’s there to say - when you are home, even the walls seem to help.

While I can only wonder about what the displaced people have been through. The possibility of such an experience has always terrified me more than any attacks on Kyiv. But I would never ask my friend if she would consider going back to Ukraine while the war is still going on. I have never been in her shoes, I do not know all the circumstances. I do not bring up such subjects while talking to my friends who have fled abroad. Still, though, they always start discussing it first.

«I feel like I’m suspended between worlds, - my friend tells me. - I don’t want to put down roots in Poland, to build my life here. I want to go home more than anything. But...» Yes, there are plenty of these bitter «buts» in her life. This woman is divorced and is raising her children mostly on her own, she does not have a place to live in Kyiv, and the money for rent is scarce, as it is hard to find a job back home with her specific profession. And she has found a job here, in Poland. Not the one she’s dreamed of but she gets paid. And the kids have been going to school for two years already, learning the language and finding friends.

My friend’s son, who’s been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome, was fortunate with his school - he fits in well, which is very important. Her daughter enjoys going to various clubs, which are free here. And most importantly - the war in Ukraine is not over yet.

- However I constantly feel as if I’m doing the splits between two realities

«And the feeling of this perpetuating impermanence, and simultaneously of persistent root spreading in a country where I don’t plan to live simply destroys me. - she confesses, pouring odorous borch on my plate. - Even though I want to come home badly, I cannot bring myself to start the process of returning just yet».

Changed identities

Suddenly, I’m overtaken by a déjà vu, as I recently had the same conversation, and I was being fed the same delicious borsch in Vilnius. However, my friend's situation there is even more acute: she is a single mother of many children, and their home in eastern Ukraine is in a war zone. There is no way to return right now, and will there ever be any?

It’s difficult for her to keep her head above water in another country: her family does not receive any special support from Lithuania, and she’s paying for rent herself, which basically completely consumes her modest salary and her first-year student daughter’s scholarship. Her younger children study in school, catching up to their local classmates in performance, and her youngest daughter has adapted to the kindergarten’s environment so well that you can hardly tell which language is her first - Lithuanian or Ukrainian…

This friend of mine, a mother of five, has acquired a completely new profession abroad as a trolley bus driver. This responsibility terrified her at first, she even lost 10 kilograms during her first months on the job, but she has gotten around to it.

«What I’m grateful for, among other things, is that Lithuanians give forced migrants the opportunity to study for free. Yes, I have to pay back the money invested in me during my first 6 months on the job but I find it fair. I’m considering learning to become a bus driver as well. Not every Ukrainian city has trolley buses…»

This painful topic hangs between us.

My friend keeps on stubbornly planning her future in Ukraine, but right now, all her unanswered questions seem too resemblant to open wounds

Will their house in the Donetsk region still be around if their town is under constant fire right now? And if not, which Ukrainian city is ready to take in such a large family? How are they supposed to rebuild their life there once the war ends? And most importantly, - when will it end?!

As there is also the following problem: my friend and at least one of her sons have a strong reaction to shellings, having lived through the first difficult years of the war in their town. Unlike many Ukrainians, they have not adapted and have not learned to deal with their fear.

There are too many painful questions and too few hints on their possible answers. But my friend is so wistful of her home and talks about it so much… And not just home as a place to live - home in a much broader sense.

«I’m so worried for our nation’s future, - she says to me with an apparent aching. - Our greatest men die on the battlefield, meanwhile so many women have gone abroad with their children».

I listen and look at her with wonder because when I first met this woman, the questions regarding the Ukrainian nation’s fate seemed quite foreign to her, and the Ukrainian language and culture were exotic. Now everything’s changed. War, upheaval and new existential experiences are reshaping our identities, and each of us has our own path and pace. Some people, for instance, only realise their own Ukrainian identity when they lose the ability to live in Ukraine.

There are no easy choices left for us anymore

I have the privilege of staying home in the time of war. Of course, this is a conscious for my family and simultaneously a responsibility for all the possible consequences but it also is a combination of certain favorable factors. Unlike many of my fellow Ukrainians, my house is intact and I live in Kyiv, the most protected city in Ukraine at this moment, and luckily I have not lost the ability to make a living under the circumstances of the war. And there’s also a lot going on behind the scenes.

Undoubtedly, one can talk at length about the various drawbacks of this decision, but my friends and I, who have found ourselves on the other side of the experience, tread carefully on this thin ice. And yet, I am always amazed at how all of them - those who went to Poland, Lithuania, Germany, France, USA and so on, and have not made the decision to stay there - every time we meet, they start explaining and justifying themselves to me, as if the fact that I stayed in Ukraine gives me the right to judge them.

Hey, what are you doing?! No, there are no easy choices left for us anymore. Yes, it will always be a complex mix of entirely polar feelings.

And I listen to you, my dear friends, very carefully about all your tough calls and hard times and ask myself - could I have done the same?

And I cheer for you when I hear about your children’s or your own success in an unfamiliar foreign-speaking environment. I breathe a sigh of relief when such terrible trials as suddenly discovered oncology or other insidious diagnoses are treated for free and with quality in those developed countries where you have ended up. I am not annoyed by your everyday small joys that you are too shy to openly share on social media.

Moreover, frankly, I am proud of you - all these volunteer initiatives, the incredible projects you are driving in your new locations, all this great collective work for Ukraine, its military, image, culture and so on, all of this is very, very important. The Ukrainian diaspora is our superpower, I always say that.

But I won't lie, I often feel bitterness and resentment that the damn war has scattered all of you to distant lands, that prolonged stays in other worlds inevitably affect changes in your mentality and perspective. And it hurts me, God, it hurts me so much, too, that the flower of our nation has been so cut down on various levels.

However, I want to keep believing in our power and unity, I want us to stop bickering among ourselves and learn to listen to each other in this not-so-black-and-white reality. I want to feel that circumstances and distances can not take my close ones away from me. And that someday I will feel more or less at home anywhere, where I will be fed with sincere Ukrainian borsch.

…Having thanked my host for the hospitality, I’m leaving Warsaw once again to catch one of my many trains to Kyiv. I often travel this way and already have a collection of usual observations. These trains, connecting Ukraine and Poland, are always full of our women and children who are carrying heavy luggage, learning various languages (oh, the everpresent sound of Duolingo!), who have special documents confirming the legitimacy of their stay abroad, generously share the conditions of their new lives, complain or praise themselves, who are sad or laughing, explaining themselves or defending their decisions quite aggressively, even when no one challenged them. There is so much poignancy in all of this.

On the road, I observe the cheerful little daughter of another passenger for a while. She must be two or three years old, she’s active and constantly chattering about everything under the sun. However, I find it hard to understand her. «She speaks German better than Ukrainian now», - her mother says, embarrassed and almost apologetic to everyone. Well, that happens. Especially during the endless balancing between different worlds.