This is my land, my soul, my home

It’s Wednesday 23rd of February. There has been a palpable tension in the air for many weeks, but those who are at home in Ukraine have been continuing on regardless of what appears to be an imminent danger. Kateryna goes to bed as normal in her home in Irpin. She is a practical psychologist working at a private school, and has lived in this apartment for six months after saving up to buy it for eight years previous. The clocks tick over into the 24th of February and her sleep is interrupted by the unusual blaring of her phone before the sun has shed light on the new day. It’s her mother who is in Kyiv, she is seeking comfort from her daughter.  “At 5am, at this time, my mother and brother should be asleep. Then I heard explosions” Kateryna recounts, “we immediately started packing our backpacks, packed our things for our animals, but decided to stay in the city.”

Natalya’s day begins in the same manner. Living in Kyiv as a teacher for children with special education needs, a morning phone call is out of the ordinary. It’s her sister, she delivers the news that Russian forces have moved into Ukraine. “We didn’t understand what to do” explains Natalya, “the news said everyone should find the nearest bomb shelter and take food, water, first aid kits and documents. It was a very scary night in Kyiv. I didn’t sleep at night for one week, every night there were sirens announcing a possible bombing. It was very scary and cold.”

With the growing threat comes scenarios that were unthinkable a week previously. "I looked at my birthday photos taken a week before the war" Natalya recalls defiantly, "I could not understand why at the age of 28 I should be listening to the advice of a psychologist about 'what to do so that you are not raped'."

After many nights of uncertainty, of homes being destroyed and lives being lost, decisions are made to flee the lives that have been growing for generations. Kateryna decides to leave behind the apartment and her possessions: “I was afraid every minute that I would die. I ate and thought it was the last time. Now we have nothing, we ran away without things.”

Nataliia and Maksym, after what feels like an eternity, land on British soil. Bournemouth airport is unfamiliar to them, but waiting are the comforting smiles of Tim and Hillary. From Weymouth, the British couple watched the destruction take place in Ukraine and offered a reassuring hand in a time where, to many Ukrainians, it seemed like other lights had gone out. “I wrote about 150 emails titled ‘accommodation offered to vegetarian family’” Tim chuckled. “It’s probably why they’re doing well against the Russians, very few are vegetarian.

“After about 150, Nataliia responded, and that was lovely, it's heartwarming. And we scheduled a WhatsApp meeting on video and we just seem to gel immediately.”

Nataliia smiles, and Maksym excitedly shows his new skateboard which proudly shows the blue and yellow of Ukraine. They are safe and thankful, but longing for a return to their family, and to their home.