Having grown up in Great Britain in the 80’s and 90’s I have not experienced war, the troubles in Ireland and The Falklands were very real but did not encroach the tranquillity of life in North Wales. I never imagined that I would sample some of what our previous generations had endured in the World Wars, the sound of air-raid sirens, rockets being intercepted in the skies above me, but this trip was about to change that. My partner is Ukrainian and in the 2 years we have been together I have not visited her homeland due to the ongoing war, however meeting her family and seeing her home became a must, the risk outweighed by the desire to understand her and her heritage.

On arrival in Kyiv, we disembarked the train to the sound of our first air-raid siren, people moved quickly along the platform to the underground as parts of the station close as a precaution, but technology now helps the residents know with a degree of accuracy where the danger is, people around us all check their phones and realise that we are safe and life returns to normal, NORMAL!!?. It is so surreal to see that life goes on here in the face of constant danger, but I am reminded that this is not the frontline, Kyiv is well defended and is nowhere near the experiences of those living in the cities such as Kharkiv or elsewhere on the frontline. One evening as the sun was setting our apartment was flooded with the light of a warm Autumn sunset, a basket of vegetables illuminated on the windowsill, a fragile tranquil moment that alluded to a time before this conflict.

Over the next 5 days I would travel around the city, mainly by train on the underground that is running incredibly efficiently, busy with commuters, shoppers, students and some soldiers returning home on leave. At first glance it could be mistaken for any large Eastern European city, but you notice the difference in demographics, it is mainly women, children and the elderly that surround you, men are here but in much reduced numbers, I captured an image of a lady at a café sitting at a table next to an empty chair, the chairs the colours of the country’s flag, a poignant reminder of how so many women and men feel as their partners are away at war or lost to it. In the city centre installations have been created that carry the images and stories of some of the people killed in this conflict, together with a space for families and friends to place flags for fallen soldiers, there are thousands, it is sobering and heartbreaking, and the true cost of this conflict.

What I would see on a journey to Irpin, a town that was invaded at the start of the war, would shock me even more. We pass a multitude of billboards blazoned with an eclectic array of advertising, until one appears that grabs my attention, a black background with one word in white, Чому? Which I recognize with my limited knowledge of Ukrainian, as Why? When our car stopped at a car park on the outskirts of the town that question rang loudly in my head. Cars and vans of civilians that tried to flee the invasion were piled on top of each other, burnt out and riddled with bullet and shrapnel holes, this was a horrific demonstration of the brutality of this war.

When the time came to leave, I was conflicted about my experience, happy to see that for so many life was going on, I saw several marriages and christenings, and spent precious time with family, and was made to feel welcome with such warmth and generosity. Seeing a small fraction of the human cost was hard to take, it is harrowing to see at first hand the cost this is taking in lives and on those left behind. I hope for peace.

by Anthony Harrison