Ukraine is worth fighting for

By Daria Chernenko, former Shevchenkove Lyceum No. 2 student

February 26, in the first days after the invasion. Little Solomiya just turned 5 months old and spent that day in the basement. (Credit: Daria Chernenko).

As I write this in August 2023, Ukraine has been under attack and in a state of full-scale war for the past 20 months.

Since that dreadful late February day, millions of ordinary people have been fighting for the right to live in our country, the right to safety, to their language and traditions, for the opportunity to simply live in their home. For this, everyone who is able has united. We are making every possible effort to volunteer in hospitals, to share our stories in the media, to support our country by working overtime at factories and critically important enterprises. And some are in hell itself - at the frontlines, where active battles are being fought and Ukrainian blood flows every day.

To answer the question "What is it like, life in Ukraine, during the war?" I would first like to ask the counter question: "Does it – life – even exist during the war?"

It often seems not. Our reality is more like existence waiting for peace than like real life. Our days are spent trying to manage everyday affairs: work at work, spend time with family and at the same time survive, because every air alarm is a potential real danger.

During all this time, there has not been a single night or a single day when the air-raid sirens have not screamed outside our windows. Sleeping in your bed at night is a potential danger. Walking with a child in the park is a potential danger. Going to the store to buy bread is a potential danger. Even in any village or city located far from the front lines, a ballistic missile can arrive at any moment–and not just one. The worst thing is that you never know where a missile may hit: an apartment building, a maternity ward, a school,a playground or a shopping center?! We live in a fog of uncertainty without knowing if and when the attacks will arrive.

A year and a half into the war, we are all so tired of the risk – or perhaps so numb to it – that we go to a shelter only when we hear explosions. But, unfortunately, that may be too late. Anyone who remains in a country during a war lives with the understanding that each air siren alert may be the last thing we hear.

I am from the village of Shevchenkove, in Kharkiv region. Once Shevchenkove was captured by Russian forces, I was forced to flee with my family from the occupied territory, leaving my home and everything behind. We headed west towards the neighboring Poltava region, aiming to reach the city of Mirgorod which is over 300 kilometers away from our native village. There was no green corridor – no safe passage – and no guarantee that we would make the journey alive. But we took the risk, because living under military occupation is worse than war. If you openly support Ukraine in an occupied city or village, there is little chance you will survive. For merely making patriotic expressions or showing a symbol, you may be arrested, tortured, deported or even killed. Occupiers do not care about your gender or your age.

Shevchenkove’s town coat of arms chalked on the pavements during the occupation. A partisans drew it at night to remind the occupiers that Shevchenko's Ukraine is Ukraine. (credit: Internet)

I'm 27 years old. I don't know a single person who hasn’t lost a relative or friend or colleague in this war. Many of my acquaintances have left their homes forever. And many more, like me, live every day with an obsessive fear of losing everything.

Many of my classmates, who should be enjoying their youth, are now at the front, risking their lives and health to prevent the enemy from occupying and destroying other cities of Ukraine.

We live in a country that is actively fighting for its existence. Our social media feeds begin and end with images of destruction and death. We are afraid of winter, because we know that with the first cold weather, the enemy will again attack the critical infrastructure of the entire country, and our children will be left without light and heat.

The terror touches all parts of our lives.

For more than a year, children have been trying to get an education in an online format. In those parts of Ukraine that are a bit calmer, learning takes place both in person and online but always with breaks to descend into a shelter due to a possible air threat.

I really don't know if this can be called a full life. Our rights and the safety of children and adults are under threat around the clock. And our daily activities are painful: parents bury their children, wives do not hear from their husbands for months, and children often become orphans.

However, in spite of all our fears and pain, in spite of the missiles and rockets that the Russians use to terrorize our peaceful cities at night, during the day we still continue to work, to rebuild what’s been destroyed, to study, love, marry and give birth to children, and to help the army.

A year has passed since the evacuation. We share a moment of happiness together as a family. (Credit: Daria Chernenko).

We also feel the support from the whole world. Thanks to global support and despite extremely difficult conditions, the Ukrainian government is still able to pay all the social benefits, internal refugee programs are actively running, and many destroyed places are being rapidly rebuilt.

The war opened our eyes to true values, to the transience of life and its terrible price. We try not to lose hope and to live to the fullest, every second, while the opportunity is before us.

So, how then, do I answer the question "What is life like in Ukraine during the war?"

I want to answer: "Extremely difficult, sometimes unbearable, often dangerous. But it is infinitely valuable, stormy and full of great hope for victory, freedom and peace, so it is worth fighting for!"