Reflections on my visit to Ukraine

One of a delegation of cross-party parliamentarians, I flew to Chișinău International
Airport in Moldova before crossing the border into Ukraine’s Odesa region and later
into Kyiv. Driving into the capital, it could be a beautiful European city like any other.
But that’s before the sirens start. 

We spent our first night in a bomb shelter. The delegation and I were exhausted,
having to take cover whenever we heard the air raid sirens in the street or received
alerts through a cleverly designed app.
By contrast the locals get on with their day. Threat has become a part of the
furniture. It’s been four years since the start of the full-scale invasion but for those in
the Crimea and Donbas regions, Russian occupation has been a reality for more
than a decade.

I spoke to Oleksandr, who was displaced in 2014 by the annexation. Standing in Kyiv
at age 15, I realised Putin’s warmongering had come to define almost his entire life.
He can’t remember a time when they weren’t trying to erase his country and culture.
Now he’s struggling to find work in a war-torn economy and simply cannot plan for
his future.

In 2022, none of us would have predicted that this war would grind on for more than
a year, let alone four. The fact it has is testament to Ukraine’s tenacity and carves
her out as a figure of great resolve on an international stage of increasingly violent,
land-grabbing so-called “strongmen”.

But the war’s continuance causes real life dilemmas for Ukrainian civilians around
the world. National resolve can’t fill out your visa forms. It can’t teach your 6-year-old
her mother tongue after she’s spent most of her life in a foreign country. It can’t
translate your degree into English.

I’m reminded of Svitlana who I met at Harrogate college, she’s studying an
interpreting course and volunteering. She said:
“Most Ukrainian families are uncertain about what the future hold, each face unique
challenges. Some are struggling more than others, with sons, husbands, and elderly
parents left behind.
“I'm hoping to settle in England and waiting for my documents to be processed so I
can support my children and family. My mother recently received a 'Homes for
Ukraine' status, which has been a huge relief. In her 70s and not in the best health,
she's fortunate to have a secure place to stay. However, her dream is to go back to
her summer home and reunite with her friends who are still in Ukraine.”

Discussing the policy aspect with Ukrainian officials, you reach an even harder
impasse. We’re rightly proud that Brits opened their hearts and doors to refugees during the Homes for Ukraine scheme but their government is desperate for people to stay.They need to keep the country running whilst over 1 million personnel now
fight in the army. They need to rebuild a home to people can return.

Ukrainian children have been born and are now entering pre-school thousands of
miles away from their homeland. It’s part of Russia’s concerted effort, alongside the
abduction of tens of thousands of children, to erase their heritage, language and
culture. The Liberal Democrats have called for the re-establishment of Ukrainian
language GCSEs and A-levels with textbooks to be made available in schools and
libraries. These young people need access to their culture.

On our final day in Kyiv I joined international leaders, standing alongside President
Zelenskyy during a memorial ceremony to honour those who have fallen during the
conflict, the total stands at over 55,000.
Nothing could fully prepare me for mourning in a country where destruction has
become part of everyday life. I spoke to one veteran who lost a limb, even with life
altering injuries he is still determined to go back and fight.
 

As I returned to the safety of the United Kingdom, I am more certain than ever that
we must continue to stand with Ukraine. This isn’t a distant conflict. Russia attacks
the very idea of liberal democracy, and the outcome of this war will shape the future
and security of our entire continent. Ukraine’s fight is our fight.