September 2024 in Ukraine in photos

In 2024, Russia significantly expanded the network of «re-education camps» and increased the militarisation and indoctrination of abducted Ukrainian children. Each of these children, upon returning home, requires rehabilitation - receiving a complex of various forms of assistance. How many Ukrainian children were actually abducted by Russia, what they are taught in the «re-education camps», and what are the prospects for the return of deported Ukrainians - discussed in an interview with Olena Rozvadovska, the founder and head of «Voices of Children» Charitable Foundation.

Nataliia Zhukovska: On October 2nd, seven children aged between 3 and 14 were returned to Ukrainian-controlled territory. All of them were from the Kherson and Crimea regions. This was reported by the head of the Save Ukraine organisation, Mykola Kuleba. And at the end of September, according to the ombudsman Dmytro Lubinets, nine children were also returned home. How many Ukrainian children in total have been abducted by Russia?

‍Olena Rozvadovska: According to open sources, Russia has deported over 700 thousand people. The official figure from the Ukrainian authorities is around 20 thousand children. This is the number we rely on. However, it is impossible to state the exact number. Since the war continues, there might be one number of children today and another tomorrow. We also do not have access to the occupied territories or Russian territory.

What happens to Ukrainian children in Russia?

Recently, together with the public association «Ukrainian Network for Children's Rights», the NGO «Regional Human Rights Centre» prepared a report based on specific cases. Our part focused on children's psychological support and rehabilitation after their return. Speaking generally about what happens, according to the children, the scenarios vary.

In some cases, there is group deportation, and they are placed in various child-like camps in Crimea or on the territory of Russia and Belarus. It is known that in the occupied territories of Ukraine, processes are underway to deprive parents of their parental rights according to Russian legislation

Children can be taken under the pretext of so-called threats to life or health without further clarification. Afterwards, they can be placed in foster families. All of this is undoubtedly illegal and constitutes a war crime, which the Ukrainian side is documenting.

How does the process of «liberating» Ukrainian children take place?

Our foundation «Voices of Children» is not involved in the return of children. In fact, each case is individual. There is no return mechanism, just as there is no mechanism for prisoners of war. Generally, the official sides cannot agree on the return of a certain number of children home. This is not that type of case. Russia does not recognise the fact that these are abducted or deported children. According to the Russians, they are rescuing them from shelling. For them, this is a «humanitarian mission». We, however, understand that this is abduction, forced deportation and russification of the nation on RF territory.

As of today, it is the relatives of the child who is in Russia that go to retrieve them. Volunteers who work in coordination with the Ministry of Integration, the President's Office, the Ombudsman, and others assist them in their logistics. That is, the relatives themselves search for those children.

What is the greatest difficulty?

The greatest difficulty is that any person who goes to Russia for the child is in a high-risk zone. There is a chance that they may not return with the child because they could be detained. Moreover, the process always involves humiliating and difficult filtration procedures and an extensive number of various checks. The return process may take several weeks or even months. In one case documented in our report, a grandmother was ready to travel to Russia to get her granddaughter. The return of the child lasted 14 months. The woman faced 18-hour interrogations at the Russian border and threats. Russia hindered the process in every way possible. To delay the child’s exit from Russia, the grandmother was made part of a criminal case. The family was only reunited after a second attempt, and only after the girl’s mother reported the obstacles faced in returning the child at a UN Security Council meeting.

The logistics are also challenging. Typically, the journey to the occupied territories or Russia involves passing through several European countries

The difficulty lies in locating, verifying, and finding these children. It is all very monotonous and complex work. According to official statistics published on the «Children of War» website, 388 children have been returned to date. As you can see, the figure is not even in the thousands. The complexity lies in the fact that there is no organised return of, for example, an entire group of children from an institutional-type facility that was taken. However, the greatest difficulty is the time we lose every day. Children who were taken at 2,5 years of age are now 5,5 years old. They may not remember what happened to them. Moreover, for the child, this is already a trauma. The longer they remain in isolation and subjected to active brainwashing, the harder it becomes to bring them back. And we understand that this is exactly what Russia is doing.

And of course, when children end up in Russian families and are adopted, these cases are even more difficult. Imagine yourself as a little three-year-old girl. You are brought into a family, and you adapt. At that age, it does not matter where the child lives because they do not understand the situation they have ended up in. They simply live.

In your recent report, you mentioned over 5500 clubs of military-patriotic education and hundreds of «re-education camps» operating in Russia and Belarus. How exactly are Ukrainian children re-educated there? How does indoctrination occur?

This research was conducted by the Regional Human Rights Centre. Their specialists describe the patriotism lessons that the children go through. In the curriculum approved by the Russian Ministry of Education, Ukraine is not depicted as an independent and united state. According to our colleagues’ research, propaganda narratives are embedded not only in textbooks but are also imposed during extracurricular but mandatory classes such as «Conversations About Important Matters» and «Lessons of Courage». The «cadet and Cossack classes» operate within schools, aimed at preparing students for military service.

One manifestation of political indoctrination is the activities of so-called patriotic and military-patriotic movements

In Russia, so-called «re-education camps» also operate. Russia spares no expense on their operation. They are very professional in their information warfare. This machine is in full motion at every level. Every teacher, adult, and school administrator knows where to get the «correct» information that needs to be conveyed to the children. And even if someone turns on the television, they will find confirmation of everything they have already been told. In these camps, there is a system of so-called patriotic education. They introduce children to their «heroes», teach them, and sing the Russian anthem. In doing so, they erase national self-identity. The Russians' goal is to make Ukrainian children see themselves as part of the Russian people.

What methods does Russia use on Ukrainian children to make them literally forget that they are Ukrainians?

It is primarily about psychological and moral pressure. Our psychologist, who worked with a boy who was returned to Ukraine, also spoke about how he endured physical abuse and torture. I know that human rights defenders are recording even more severe and horrific cases. The hardest situation in Russia is for those children who openly demonstrate their pro-Ukrainian stance. They are constantly subjected to moral pressure and intimidation. The Russians calculated that the children would break. They were constantly told: «No one cares about you, no one will come for you. You have been forgotten. If you return, you will be recognised as collaborators or as those who worked with Russia and will be sent to prison». The children, not knowing whether it was true or not, thought: «Maybe I really will be imprisoned for being in Russia?». Any scary thought can take root in a stressed mind.

Freedom House, together with ZMINA. The Centre for Human Rights and the Regional Centre for Human Rights presented new evidence to the International Court regarding the direct involvement of the Lukashenko regime in the displacement, political indoctrination, and militarisation of education for over 2200 children from occupied Ukrainian territories. How can this evidence contribute to the return of Ukrainian children?

Firstly, it is about documenting violations. Cases in The Hague can take decades to review. Despite this, someone must continue documenting these violations. It is also about increasing international pressure. If no one speaks about this, documents it, or submits it, it may seem like the problem is resolved, and there are no issues. This needs to remain in the public domain and be discussed at various levels.

Of course, we would all like for this to be resolved in one day, and for Russia to be excluded even from the UN. However, we understand that it cannot be done so quickly

I believe that it is absolutely the right path for both state authorities and public organisations to continue working on documenting, collecting violations, and passing them on to the relevant institutions. As a result of documented violations, arrest warrants have been issued for Putin and Lvova-Belova. I am confident that Russian sanctions will only intensify. It is important not to grow tired of this work. Every Ukrainian, at their own level, must shout about the genocide that Russia is committing in today's world, right in the heart of Europe.

What is Ukraine doing to ensure that Russia is held accountable under international law for the abduction and illegal adoption of Ukrainian children?

Ukraine is doing everything within its power. International coalitions for the return of children are being created. International groups of prosecutors and investigators are working to document information on violations. Ukraine is regularly represented on various international platforms.

A wide range of measures are being taken to hold Russia accountable for its crimes - and not only those concerning children. It is unfortunate that these processes are not as swift as we would like them to be.

Your foundation, «Voices of Children», has been active since 2015. How have these «voices» changed since Russia's full-scale invasion?

Since 2015, I have been working as a volunteer with children in the east of the country along the entire frontline, and in 2019, we officially registered as a foundation. There have been many changes over nearly 10 years. In 2015, I was alone, but now our team consists of 220 people. The difference is that in 2015, the war was confined to two regions, but today it spans the entire country. Another change is that as of 2019, we had between 50 and 100 children under our care in various frontline locations and just one psychological support programme. It was very localised and targeted work. We travelled to remote villages where buses did not go. After 24 February 2022, when drones and missiles began flying across the whole of Ukraine, the format of our work changed drastically. The frontline today is more intense and much larger in scale.

Today, our centres are located in the largest cities along the frontline - from Chernihiv to Kharkiv, Zaporizhzhia, Dnipro, Kryvyi Rih, and Mykolaiv. It is not easy to work there due to the constant shelling. However, the children living there need socialisation. Their schooling is online, and they do not go anywhere - so our sessions are a small escape for them. War, whether large or small, always impacts children.

Why do parents return with their children to areas under shelling despite the danger?

It is hard to understand, but that is how it is. Everyone has their own story. You cannot say that all people have lost their minds about returning to dangerous cities and villages. That is not true! Sane, healthy, and thoughtful people are returning. The reasons vary greatly. Many simply could not settle elsewhere. People leave, spend all their money on renting accommodation, fail to find work, and return. This is the reality for many families. Some remain or return to dangerous regions because they have bedridden parents they cannot leave behind. That is why I never judge these people, although I am convinced that it is wrong to remain under shelling, especially with children.

How do you work with parents who refuse to evacuate with their children from dangerous zones?

It is a difficult process. If adults do not want to leave the area, they simply sign a refusal to evacuate. Parents bear primary responsibility for their children. Often, they refuse out of fear. Here, the state has not done enough to ensure that everyone has a clear understanding of where these people are going. They need to have at least some certainty in emergency situations. There is another group of parents who simply abuse their position and manipulate their children. Generally, these are the adults who do not take care of their children and are not interested in saving their mental health and lives. The state mechanisms must also work in these cases.

These children need to be removed. This is the job of social services, but it is not easy for them to work on the frontline. Many factors have come together to create the situation as it stands

I remember one story where we moved a family with three children from a frontline village and bought them a house in a rear area. A year later, they returned to their village. In this situation, there was nothing we could do because we do not have the right to remove children from their families.

What is the current psychological state of the children? Does it differ depending on where they live in Ukraine?

Various factors influence the psychological state of children. Certainly, the place of residence plays a role. There is a difference between living in Uzhhorod and living in Zaporizhzhia. These are two completely different realities. Obviously, the more dangerous the area of residence, the more threatening the situation for their mental health. However, much also depends on the family. A child senses the anxiety of adults. Parents are the window to the outside world for children. It is not just the rockets that scare them during war, but also their mother’s reaction to them. The presence of education, peer groups and opportunities for communication also have an impact on a child's mental health. Children in Kharkiv and Zaporizhzhia suffer greatly. Recently, we gathered children’s dreams in Zaporizhzhia, and one girl wrote: «I want this online schooling to finally end».

Our psychologists report that today, children are more frequently presenting with anxiety and depressive states, especially teenagers. Some children develop enuresis, hand tremors, and sleep disturbances. Others, due to stress or traumatic experiences, may exhibit eating behaviour disorders.

What do you think the state should do to work with children currently abroad, and how should they be brought back?

We understand that in addition to returning children abducted by Russia, we also need to work with those who are currently displaced abroad. Ukraine must be highly interested in ensuring that all working-age people, and not only children, return. For example, we often receive requests for online psychological assistance from parents abroad, as they are looking for Ukrainian-speaking specialists for their children. It is no secret that living abroad was a dream for some, but for many, it is not a fairytale.

A very large number of people dream of returning home. However, urging them to do so now is certainly wrong, as the war continues

For people to return, the economy must function, jobs need to be created, and education must develop. But first and foremost, the war must end with our victory.

Even the country with the best economy in the world cannot function normally when drones hit schools. It is abnormal and wrong. Today, hubs need to be created so that people abroad can still feel connected to Ukraine and remain within the Ukrainian information space. Moreover, we must constantly keep the world's attention focused and, of course, talk about the fact that Ukraine alone cannot counter Russian propaganda and stop such a powerful enemy.

Main photo: AA/ABACA/Abaca/East News

On this special day, our editors and authors wrote a couple of words about their work at Sestry, about their heroes, their emotions - about everything that became so important during this year of working in the media.

Joanna Mosiej-Sitek, CEO of Sestry

Our year on the frontline in the fight for truth. We are a community of women. Women journalists. Women editors. Our strength is our voice. We stand for shared European values, democracy and peace. We are the voice of all those who, like us, believe that the future lies in dialogue, tolerance and respect for human rights. These people believe in a world where we can forgive past grievances and focus our energy on building a better future. They are not divided by the words of politicians. Every day, we do everything possible to listen to and understand one another, knowing that this is the only way to fight disinformation and fake news. Our voice, our struggle, is just as vital to our security as new tanks and drones. Over the past year, we have given a platform to thousands of stories in our effort to build a better world. We understand that building a strong, multi-ethnic, and united community is a long journey, and we are only at the beginning.

Maria Gorska, Editor-in-Chief

When my colleagues at Gazeta Wyborcza and I decided to create Sestry.eu, it was the second winter of the war. My newborn daughter lay in her stroller, wearing a red onesie covered in gingerbread men, and all she knew was how to smile and reach out to her mother. Today, my little Amelia is a strong toddler, running around the park near our home in Warsaw, shouting, «Mom, catch the ball!» and laughing when I lift her into my arms. She comforts her doll when it cries.

She still does not know what Ukraine is. And that is why I am doing this media project. Not to one day tell my child about her homeland, but to ensure that she grows up in an independent, safe, and prosperous Ukraine - as a free citizen of Europe.

Tetiana Bakotska, journalist

The stories we publish in Sestry make an impact - motivating readers to take action. After my article about a refugee shelter in Olsztyn that had been closed, leaving some Ukrainian families in dire straits, five Ukrainian families reached out to say they had received help. Single mothers raising young children were given food, clothing and fully stocked backpacks for school.

Thanks to the article «Sails Save Lives» and the efforts of Piotr Paliński, hundreds of meters of sails were collected in Poland to be sewn into stretchers for wounded soldiers. On August 24th 2024, Olsztyn scout Dorota Limontas delivered the sails to Kyiv as part of a humanitarian convoy, along with medical equipment for several Kyiv hospitals, donated by the Voivodeship Adult and Children’s Hospitals in Olsztyn.

After the publication about the humble mechanic, Mr. Piotr, who in 2022 donated over 500 bicycles to Ukrainian children, the initiative gained new momentum. Once again, hundreds of children - not only in Olsztyn but in other regions of Poland as well - received bicycles as gifts. Bicycles were also sent to Ukraine for orphaned children cared for by the family of Tetiana Paliychuk, whose story we also shared.

Nataliya Zhukovska, journalist

For me, Sestry became a lifeline that supported me during a challenging moment. The full-scale war, moving to another country, adapting to a new life - this is what millions of Ukrainian women faced as they fled from the war, leaving their homes behind. I was fortunate to continue doing what I love in Poland - journalism. Even more so, I was fortunate to engage with people who, through their actions, are writing the modern history of Ukraine - volunteers, soldiers, combat medics and civil activists.

I remember each of the heroes from my stories. I could endlessly recount their lives. One might think that a journalist, after recording an interview and publishing an article, could simply move on. That is how it was for over 20 years of my work in television. The subjects of news stories were quickly forgotten. But this time, it is different. Even after my conversations with these heroes, I keep following their lives through social media. Though we have only met online, many of them have become my friends. Reflecting on the past year, I can only thank fate for the opportunity to share the stories of these incredible, strong-spirited Ukrainians with the world.

Aleksandra Klich, editor

When we began forming the Sestry editorial team a year ago, I felt that it was a special moment. Media like this are truly needed. In a world ravaged by war, overwhelmed by new technologies and crises, where information, images, and emotions bombard us from all sides, we seek order and meaning. We search for a niche that offers a sense of safety, space for deep reflection, and a place where one can simply cry. That is what Sestry is - a new kind of media, a bridge from Ukraine to the European Union.

Working with my Ukrainian colleagues has restored my faith in journalism. It has rekindled in me the belief that media should not just be click factories or arenas of conflict, but a source of knowledge, truth - however painful - and genuine emotions, which we can allow ourselves to experience in the hardest moments. Thanks to my work with Sestry and the daily focus on Ukraine, the most important questions have come alive within me: «What does patriotism mean today? What does it mean to be a European citizen? What does responsibility mean? What can I do - every day, constantly - to help save the world? And finally: Where am I from? For what purpose? Where am I headed?» These questions do not leave a person at peace when they stand on the edge. We create media in a world that is on the edge. The women of Ukraine, their experiences and struggles, remind me of this every day.

Mariya Syrchyna, editor

Over our first year, our readership has grown steadily - numbers show that our audience has increased 8-10 times compared to last year. This growth is because Sestry is no ordinary publication. Most of us journalists live in other countries due to the war, but from each of these countries, we write about what pains us the most. About Ukraine and its resilient people. About what hinders our victory over the enemy - hoping to reach those with the power to help. About the challenges we face in our new homes and how we overcome them. About our children.

We strive to talk to people who inspire and bring light in these dark times - volunteers, artists, doctors, athletes, psychologists, activists, teachers, journalists. But most importantly, we tell the stories of our warriors. I once dreamed that Ukraine’s elite would change and that the country’s fate would be shaped by worthy people. That wish has come true - though in a cruel way. The new heroes of our time are the soldiers who nobly bear the weight of the fight against both the enemy and the world’s indifference. Here, at Sestry, we tell their stories again and again to everyone who has access to the internet and a heart. In three languages. We hope that these stories will ensure their names are not forgotten and their deeds are not distorted.

A sister is someone who can be anywhere in the world but still feels close. She may annoy you, but if someone offends her, you are the first to defend her and offer a hand. That is exactly the kind of publication Sestry aspires to be - reliable and close. All the way to victory, and beyond.

Maryna Stepanenko, journalist

I have been with Sestry for nine months. In that time, I have conducted 22 powerful interviews with people I once only dreamed of speaking to in person. Politicians, generals, commanders and even the deadliest U.S. Air Force pilot. Getting in touch with him was a challenge - no online contacts, except for his publisher. There was also a fan page for Dan Hampton on Facebook. As it turns out, he manages that page himself and is quite responsive to messages.

It took me two months of persistent outreach to secure an interview with Kurt Volker, but I eventually succeeded. And my pride - Ben Hodges, whose contacts were once obtained under strict confidentiality.

In these nine months, I have learned a few key lessons: do not be afraid to ask for an interview with someone you admire, and when choosing between talking to a Ukrainian celebrity or a foreign general, always opt for the general. I am grateful to be the bridge between their expert opinions and our readers.

Kateryna Tryfonenko, journalist

«Why did you ask me that?». This is one of those funny memorable occurrences. I was working on an article about military recruitment, with part of the piece focused on international experience. One of the experts I spoke with was an American specialist from a military recruitment center. I made sure to tell him upfront that the questions would be very basic, as our readers are not familiar with the intricacies of the United States military system. He had no objections. We recorded the interview, and a few days later, I received a message from him that began, «I am still very puzzled by our conversation. I keep thinking about the questions you asked me. Why did you ask me that?». The message was long, and between the lines, it almost read «Are you a spy?». This was a first for me. To avoid causing him further distress, I offered to remove his comments from the article if our conversation had unsettled him that much. However, he did not object to the publication in the end. Although I wonder if, to this day, he still thinks it was not all just a coincidence.

Nataliya Ryaba, editor

I am free. These three words perfectly describe my work at Sestry. I am free to do what I love and what I do best. Free from restrictions: our editorial team is a collective of like-minded individuals where everyone trusts each other, and no one forbids experimenting, trying new things, learning, and bringing those ideas to life. I am free from stereotypes. Our multinational team has shown that nationality and historical disputes between our peoples do not matter - we are united, working toward the common goal of Ukraine’s victory and the victory of the democratic world. I am free to be who I want to be in our newsroom. Yes, I work as an editor, but I can grab my camera and run as a reporter to protests or polling stations - wherever I want to go. No one forbids me from creating what I want, and I am grateful for this freedom. It gives me wings.

Anastasiya Kanarska, journalist

Like many women, I always thought I wanted to have a son. Well, maybe two kids, but one of them had to be a boy. But as my understanding of myself and the world grew, and the likelihood of not having children at all increased, the idea of being a good mother to a happy, self-sufficient daughter became an exciting challenge. Learning from each other, respecting personal boundaries, and caring for one another - that is what makes working in a women’s circle so empowering. For me, starting work with Sestry coincided with a deeper exploration of my female lineage - strong women like my colleagues, who at times embody Demeter, Persephone, Hera, Aphrodite, Artemis, or Hestia. The themes of my articles, whether written, edited, or translated by me, often mirror my own life events or thoughts. Maybe that is the magic of the sisterhood circle.

Olena Klepa, SMM specialist

«I feel needed here». I went to my first interview with Sestry three months before the official launch of the project: in old DIY shorts, a T-shirt from a humanitarian aid center, with a «dandelion» hairstyle and seven years of TV experience. I was not looking for a job. I was content working as a security guard at a construction site, always learning, taking free online training. But for some reason, all my supervisors kept asking: «Have you found something for yourself yet? Any interesting opportunities?» They would tell me I did not belong there and was meant for something greater.

Sestry found me. So, when I first went to the meeting, I decided, «All or nothing». It was not a typical interview. It was a meeting of people with similar values and a shared goal. We spoke different languages but understood each other instantly. The plans were ambitious and, at first glance, unrealistic. They needed a social media manager. The responsibility scared me, but I never say «I can't» until I try. Experience has shown that you can learn anything. At Sestry, I feel needed. I feel like I have room to grow. I love that I can combine all my accumulated experience here, that I can experiment. But most importantly, I no longer feel guilty. My country is at war. The enemy is not only on the frontlines. Russian propaganda has extended its tentacles far beyond its borders. By creating social media content, telling stories about Ukrainians on the frontlines to people in Poland, and showing Ukrainians that Poles «have not grown tired of the war», I am helping Ukraine hold its ground in the information space.

Beata Łyżwa-Sokół, photo editor

Many years ago, a photo editor colleague considered changing jobs and trying her luck abroad. However, one editor strongly advised her against it: «You will never be as recognised in a newsroom in New York or London as you are at home. You will never reach the same level of language proficiency as your native-speaking colleagues. At best, you will be an assistant to the head photo editor. In a foreign newsroom, you will always be a foreigner». She listened and stayed in the country, despite having studied English at university and being fluent enough that language would not have been a barrier. A few years later, she left the profession altogether, deciding that journalism no longer had a place for her - that it simply did not exist anymore.

Since then, the media landscape has changed drastically. Many believe that in the age of social media, journalism is no longer necessary. The world is evolving, and so are the media. However, I never stopped believing in its importance. I did not run away from journalism; instead, I sought a new place for myself. That is how I found Sestry, where I met editors and journalists who had come to Poland from war-torn Ukraine. After a year of working together, I know that we are very similar in many ways, but also differ in others. We listen to each other, argue, go to exhibitions together, and share a bottle of wine from time to time.

When I started working at Sestry, and we were discussing what kind of photographs should illustrate the site with our editor-in-chief, Mariya Gorska, I heard her say, «This is your garden». It was one of many fantastic phrases I heard during the months of working together - words that shaped our professional and personal relationships. In an era of fake news, bots and media crises, it was particularly important to me, as the photo editor of Sestry, to consider how we tell the story of what is happening in Ukraine through photography. I observe the media around the world, and thanks to the editors on our site, I notice that these images are often superficial, not based on direct testimony or experience, and rely on stereotypes.

For me, direct contact with Ukrainian journalists and editors is invaluable in my daily work. I am convinced that journalism projects based on such collaboration represent an opportunity for the media of the future. They are a guarantee of reliability and effectiveness in places where people’s lives are at stake, even in the most remote corners of the world.

In Kathryn Bigelow’s film «Zero Dark Thirty», there is a scene where the protagonist, a CIA agent responsible for capturing Osama bin Laden, faces a group of Navy SEALs participating in the operation. One of them, sceptical about the success of the mission (particularly because it is being led by a woman), asks his colleagues: «Why do you trust her? Why should I trust her?». Another replies: «Because she knows what she is doing». That is exactly how I feel working at Sestry. I work with editors and journalists from Ukraine who know what they are doing and why - and I feel incredibly comfortable because of that.

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.