Weltschau

24th of February. It wasn’t a shock; it wasn’t something unexpected. Some months before, the information space was full of war threats. At school, where I worked, we already practiced an evacuation plan and shared instructions for cases of emergency. We knew that some kind of danger was approaching, but it was still intangible.
From day to day, it could happen.

23 February. I monitor social media.
Tomorrow, it may start. I tend to believe it.
No fear; calm before the storm. I wake up at about 3 a.m. Russians crossed the borders from three sides. A war. There are already people who die, and there are already mothers who lose their sons. My heart breaks. Utter absurdity. Why is it taking place???? No panic, no fear. Big events happen so ordinary…

We still stay in Kyiv. I have to take care of my children, who are 10 and 13 years old. What is the right decision to make?
In the first days of March, I got a proposal to join Qirim Ailesi, the social organization that got a shelter in Turkey. I hesitated. Trains are overcrowded; there are no buses to the west. As a miracle, my colleague says that her relative transfers the bus to Lviv the next day. There are some places to rest. It makes me make a decision.
Two days in a terribly cold bus by secondary roads to Lviv. Then volunteer at the centre in Lviv while waiting for a bus to Turkey. Edirne is a border town in Turkey. Refugees center. After two weeks, we join Qirim Ailesi in Mutalib. It’s peaceful and hospitable. We are far from the war, but we live by the news about the war as if we were still there.

On May 1st, we are back in Kiev. I continue to work. There is no schooling, in fact, but management should be at school. On September 1, 2022, we start the school year offline. Sacs of sand around the ground floor and a shelter on the underground floor are the protective measures. We continue schooling. It seems like everything is as it was before, but it’s not.
On the 10th of October, morning, my children and I are on our way to school. Air alert. We see the clouds from the explosions not far away from our school.
When we arrive, there are already many pupils in the school’s shelter. A lot of them are highly stressed. They saw Shahed drones in the sky on their way to the school. In about half an hour, we feel a huge explosion right near the school, a boost, and smoke entering through the gaps. Children are in panic. We calmed them down. I don’t know why, but I say to everyone that the danger has passed, the building has withstood the impact, and there will not be any more explosions. Yes. It’s over. After a while, parents take away their children. Broken windows and other damages make further schooling impossible.
In 3 months, school is repaired and resumes working. But not me. As a consequence of the stress, my children have some health problems. I resign. On May 1, 2023, we are in Turkey again.
We live far away from the war, but it’s still a part of our lives and our consciousness.
Is there a soon-to-be-end to that crime of organised murder in a «civilised» world?
Is humanity capable of leading a peaceful living?
What should our children be prepared for?
What should all of us do?
What should each of us do?

Liudmyla Vashkulat