Everything was normal and wonderful just 6 days ago. I was leading a normal but unremarkable existence. Sure, things may have been better, but I wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen…
Just 5 days ago, everything was fine, a little frightening but fine; rumours about the prospect of world war three had been spreading, but I didn’t pay much attention to it.
Just four days ago, I was fine. Then the fear of a real war crept in, but my family and friends encouraged me.
Only three days ago, BOOM! I was right to be concerned, right to be sceptical; a bomb had been dropped just miles away from my hometown.
Just two days ago, horror, carnage, and anarchy resonated through my country’s streets; this was truth; Russia had invaded Ukraine, and I might perish…
Just yesterday, I was packing my entire existence into suitcases, preparing to flee, preparing to possibly never see this house, this city, or even this country again.
To say my final farewells.
Today, I’m a refugee, one of the fortunate few who managed to flee; here’s my story.
I grew up near Kyiv, Ukraine’s capital; I was a normal girl with a good family, but my hope, courage, and family have been ripped apart since yesterday. I’m presently in a refugee camp in Poland; I’d gone thousands of kilometres and was on the verge of quitting up.
Everyday living is a challenge and a chore. I had to scavenge and ration my food, I had to defend my territory, my little tent where I stayed listening and watching as my country disintegrated, my bruises and wounds reminded me of the perilous 24 hour hike, my legs felt like stone, I had given up. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t even eat.
But… there is still hope and a chance for everyone, not just me; I was displaced and afraid, but I know that if I hold out for tomorrow, I will have a chance; I miss my family, but I know that one day I will see them again; circumstances are rough, but I can’t give up on them; I know they rely on me.