Blog Outreach Post

     Wars are fought to achieve peace. Peace is truly the ultimate goal, or so they say. However, while the media views one side, the people endure another. I was born in Kharkiv, Ukraine. Home to my family, my childhood, and my memories. However, you never realize how insignificant all of it becomes during times of war. War was something unfathomable, something that as a young person you could never imagine, when you think of war you think of this ancient concept, one that can’t come true now. Had the concept remained inconceivable, I wouldn’t be writing this. 

At the time when rumors and the talk began about Russia invading Ukraine, well it was again not very credible. World leaders constantly threaten each other with invasions, missiles, bombs, or any kind of warfare technology they own. Being right here, scared me I’ll admit. There is really no major geographical obstacle keeping us apart from them. Again, it wasn’t anything I found to be plausible. My family needed me, more specifically my siblings. I was the oldest of 4, and my parents owned a small bakery right down the road from my sibling’s school. I mostly took care of them, I had no choice but to work to help support my family, and on my days off I’m able to go down to the bakery and help my parents out around the shop. Life was consistent, it became redundant, much like a routine. 

It began. It began one night out of nowhere, almost like the lives we lived before didn’t matter. It was 4:36 AM, I near a window and pull back the curtain, there was more smoke than not. The screams, the utter terror, the confusion. Terror filled the entire town, it was everywhere and it finally processed, it was happening. This is exactly what everyone spoke of, just no one could ever imagine it would all happen too fast, so unprecedented, so early. Early in the morning, before the sun even began to rise. Evacuations and multiple casualties later, my family and I were able to gather our thoughts, my mother crying and there was quite literally nothing my father or I could say to make her feel safe. This was out of our control, it was out of everyone’s control. They had done it, Putin had invaded. He’s here and he was power hungry. 

Months and months of missile strikes passed, imposed curfew reminded us that we were still under control. 11 PM came around and that meant everyone was inside. Until then normal life could not resume, as a kid 11 PM felt late, however, at 20 that perception changed. Due to the curfew, nightlife was dead. There was no such thing as normal life now, we didn’t know how to return to the life we once lived. Many of my close friends took off, many to Poland, some to Romania. It was like the life I once had was slowly slipping out of my hands. Loved ones leaving, and family struggling more than ever now, especially because the bakery heavily relies on external commercial support. With empty streets, we had an even emptier store, no profits being made. 

I ask myself, why? Why was I born in this part of the world, residing next to this power-hungry dictatorship? I truly ask myself why can't it end faster, it’s sad that our children have become accustomed to this way of life. If this is what it means to achieve peace, I’d rather not know what that feels like.