Bar where I played piano with pals is now bomb shelter
FIVE years ago, in a slightly strange turn of events, I was persuaded to play piano and sing for friends in a bar in Kharkiv, eastern Ukraine, for a concert on International Women’s Day.
We sang hits by John Lennon, Leonard Cohen and Talking Heads and chatted in different languages late into the night. This week, that same bar became a bomb shelter.
The news of invasion – the first fullscale war in Europe for a generation – hit me very hard, as it did many here in the UK who could only watch with gut-wrenching shock as tanks rolled into a European capital.
I lived in Ukraine for two of the happiest years of my life, from 2017 to 2019, first as a student then as a freelance copywriter and theatre director – before I became a journalist.
But the sadness we feel here pales in comparison to the horror felt by
Ukrainians on the ground as their homes and lives are threatened by a ruthless dictator of the likes unseen since 1945.
In under a week, my Ukrainian social media feed switched from gym photos, theatre reviews and holiday snaps to tips on how to make Molotov cocktails and find the nearest bomb shelter.
It was very upsetting to see streets I had walked with friends – sharing stories and practising each other’s language – turned into a battleground.
Metro stations where we would hug goodbye after a night of cognac and cheese are now used to shelter civilians from Putin’s shells.
My former partner Viktoria (I have changed all names in this article) sheltered the first night in the basement of her building.
She was looking after a friend’s 10-year-old son, separated from his mother by the war.
They managed to escape Kyiv and, as I write, are on a long drive west to
Lviv, praying not to come across Russian tanks.
Most friends have decided to stay in Kyiv. Some are taking up arms.
My former flatmates Petro and Nina sent a selfie, smiling with their dog as they sheltered in their basement.
Their message was clear: “Turn to your governments. Make them support Ukraine. They [Russian troops] are trying to take Kyiv right now.”
I asked other friends and acquaintances to send photos of themselves in shelters across the country, with messages to our government if they wanted.
Pictures flooded in – friends huddled in the desperate darkness, mugs of tea, children’s toys – the determination and dry humour evident in their smiles.
Their stoic responses paint a picture of a 21st century Blitz spirit, a people who for eight years have been thanklessly fighting – for us, for Europe and the free world.
Ukraine has always been a part of Europe, but in many ways they are more “European” than all of us.
They relish freedom and democracy because they understand, unlike us, how quickly it can be taken away.
If we could be a shadow of the gutsy nation Ukraine has become, it would be something to be proud of.
Therefore it is sad to see European leaders fail to stop using Russian oil, and Boris Johnson failing to punish Putin’s oligarchs.
They need more military aid now – we cannot let them down.
On Friday I received these words from a friend who was first forced from his home by the Russians in Donetsk in 2014, and is now in Kyiv: “I left the shelter. The sun was shining for the first time since the attack. The birds were singing in the botanic garden and I have a song line in my mind… ‘How can I not love you Kyiv, how can I not love you Ukraine’.”