Reporter's Notebook

As war anniversary nears, Ukrainians in Poland face fatigue – and hope

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Molly Dugan, a professor of Journalism at California State University, Sacramento, reported this story as a visiting professor for the Fall 2022 semester at the University of Lodz, Poland. She was drawn to explore the challenges faced by the Ukrainians fleeing to Poland after the Russian attacks, given the long history in her hometown of Sacramento as a destination for immigrants, including those from Ukraine. According to the 2020 U.S. Census, Sacramento County ranked behind only New York’s Kings County and Chicago’s Cook County in Ukrainian-born residents living in the United States. Dugan, president of the Open California Board of Directors, received a Fulbright at Corvinus University in Budapest, Hungary for the Spring 2023 semester. 

Łódź , Poland – Anastasia Makarova chases her animated toddler through the dimly lit play area, snowflakes pelting the windows and the sound of their steps echoing through the chilly hall.

The winter has taken temperatures well below freezing. Funded by local donations, the room provides a needed respite for Makarova.

“I came (to Poland) because of him,” she says, nodding at 21-month-old Kirill, clad in a bright blue snowsuit. “I was really afraid that something would happen.”

Makarova, 37, arrived from Brovary, a suburb of Kyiv, in March. She’s increasingly feeling the strain of being away from home and feels more cut off than ever. Russian attacks on Ukrainian power systems have rendered mobile phone and internet service unreliable, heightening Makarova’s daily anxiety.

“I’m afraid that this war may last for years,” she says. “I miss my husband, my whole family. The longer I stay here, the more I miss them.”

An estimated 8.8 million have crossed the 330-mile shared border to wait out the war….Nearly a year after Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, more than a million remain in Poland.

Makarova and Kirill are part of the largest migration in Europe since the end of World War II.

Poland has welcomed more Ukrainians than any other nation. An estimated 8.8 million have crossed the 330-mile shared border to wait out the war. Some transited to other countries. As Ukraine’s military fortunes improved, millions returned home – at least for a while.

Nearly a year after Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, more than a million remain in Poland. They are buoyed by the ongoing generosity of Poles and the Polish government and, for some, by family members and friends living here.

Still, the stress is beginning to show. Young mothers such as Makarova can’t get childcare or jobs. Ukrainian parents fear that their kids are falling behind in school. Housing is increasingly difficult to find. The effects of PTSD are evident. And Polish people, many of whom opened their doors to refugees at the start of the war, are wondering how long their guests will be forced to stay.

Many Ukrainians are struggling with whether to stay a little longer or go home, said Olga Khaulyak, a Ukrainian refugee who manages the Red Cross in Łódź,. She said Ukrainians want to stay on their land, despite the deprivations of war.

“A lot of refugees will stay here in Poland, but most will go back,” she said.

After a surge of border crossings last February and March, the number of Ukrainian refugees has remained relatively steady, despite the ongoing missile strikes, widespread power outages and winter temperatures.

Makarova is one of more than 80,000 Ukrainian refugees still in Łódź, a city of about 800,000, located 85 miles west of Warsaw. Most of the refugees are women with small children, like Makarova.

About 90 percent of the Ukrainian refugee clients at the local Red Cross are women without their spouses or other family. Adult men under 60 are restricted from leaving Ukraine. Older relatives, who often care for young children, are also staying behind.

Makarova faces the same problem as many refugees: finding care for her son. A former advertising executive, she said she misses working in her career field. The Red Cross helps her with rent.

About 90 percent of the Ukrainian refugee clients at the local Red Cross are women without their spouses or other family.

Originally from Donetsk, she left to shield Kirill from the terrors of living in a warzone. After the war in Eastern Ukraine in 2014, her friends back home told stories of their frightened children, and she worries that they may not be developing normally.

She can’t explain the loud noises to her son or why they must run to a shelter at a moment’s notice. She can’t make him understand the power outages or why he can’t play outside.

Her husband works as a mechanic, spending part of his time repairing Ukrainian military vehicles. She worries that Kirill doesn’t know his father, though they talk through video and instant chat platforms.

“Kirill is too young to understand,” she said. “He wants to see (his father), but it’s hard for him to combine papa on the screen with papa in real life. If he were older, he could understand that this is his dad and he’s in Ukraine.”

Those with older children face other challenges. Nabil Ismail arrived from Kozacha Lopan, a village in the Kharkiv region, with his wife and four of his six children after a rocket destroyed a neighboring house in April and damaged his roof. His two older children, 18 and 16, decided to stay behind.

The family spent two months in Russia-occupied territory without electricity or gas, extraordinarily little food and constant shelling. They ran to Ukrainian-controlled territory and made their way to Poland and, eventually landed in Łódź.

Ismail was allowed to leave Ukraine because of a policy that allows men with three or more children under 18 to do so. Plus, he has a knee injury that prevents him from serving in active combat.

He’s working in the Łódź branch of Amkor Technology, the same company where he worked in Ukraine. But managing his children’s education is taking a toll. He considered enrolling them in Polish schools, but they don’t know the language and he worried they would fall behind. They are taking Ukraine-based online classes.

“It is very difficult now. In Ukraine, there are serious problems with electricity and communications, and not all teachers can connect. When an attack occurs, everything immediately turns off.”

About 60 percent of Ukrainian children in Poland are continuing their education online in Ukrainian schools, a sign that they plan to return home once it’s safe.

Ismail isn’t sure though.

I don’t want to remember what I saw and lived,” he said. “Our house is not far from the border, so it remains dangerous, and I don’t know what to do.”

The Red Cross helped Ismail’s family find housing in Lodz, but it wasn’t easy to secure a place for two adults and four children, ages 3, 5, 13 and 14.

“We faced a number of problems. There were too many of us, we have small children,” he said. “Many refused to rent out housing because they had a negative image of Ukrainians. We were lucky to rent a house, but to be honest, a lot of negativity remained in our hearts.”

Polish law states that families with children cannot be evicted for any reason, which makes property owners hesitant to rent to Ukrainians with unstable income. In Łódź, it wasn’t difficult to find an apartment when the war began. Now, only the more expensive flats are left, and families are doubling up to afford shelter.

Polish law states that families with children cannot be evicted for any reason, which makes property owners hesitant to rent to Ukrainians with unstable income.

Poland has granted temporary residency to more than 1.5 million Ukrainians refugees, according to Professor Marcin Gonda, head of the Center for Migration Studies at the University of Łódź. About a million Ukrainians already lived in Poland before the war.

Despite some anti-immigration rhetoric from the Polish government, it’s comparably easy to get Polish residency, Gonda said. It’s close. The cultures are similar.

“For Ukrainians, it’s the main destination,” Gonda said. “Polish people reacted very positively.”

Khaulyak said she’s hopeful that new programs, which include Polish language courses, employment referrals and training, will improve the lives of refugees. Khaulyak is concerned, however, about the psychological effects of the war, compounded by the ongoing strain of securing basic needs.

Many Ukrainian refugees suffer post-traumatic stress, depression and other mental health problems. Most led active lives before they left home. They are educated, ran businesses and had stable jobs.

“Many of these people don’t realize they need help,” Khaulyak said. “They don’t know how to plan for their day, week, month because of such a state. They don’t know what to do.”

Makarova identifies. Her worries about her husband and parents interfere with her daily life. The fear weighs on her.

“If I see that there’s an attack somewhere, I scroll and scroll to get information,” she said. “It’s hard to get sleep.”

Liliana Lato, head of the international relations office at the University of Łódź, coordinates programs for nearly1,000 Ukrainian college students, most with signs of post-traumatic stress. “All of them were in a state of shock” when the attacks began, she said.

Many Ukrainian refugees suffer post-traumatic stress, depression and other mental health problems. Most led active lives before they left home. They are educated, ran businesses and had stable jobs.

The university offers counseling, tuition fee waivers and other services, but those who fled the war often arrived without documents or, more importantly, without knowing Polish.

“You can’t succeed without being able to express yourself,” she said.

Khaulyak said language remains one of the biggest challenges for Ukrainian refugees. Some communication skills are needed to work and earn money and take care of basic needs, like housing and childcare.

“It’s harder for them to solve problems themselves,” she said. “They need support.”

The Polish government provides some financial support to families with children. But payments to host families are limited to 120 days, and the child benefit – for which all families in Poland are eligible – doesn’t cover all household expenses.

As the war drags toward its anniversary, support for refugees from their Polish hosts waxes and wanes. The overwhelming majority of Europeans, including Poles, have embraced the Ukrainian cause since the first missile launch. Poles share a border with Ukraine and harbor a longstanding hatred of Russian authority.

Khaulyak said the current mood is reflected by the donation bins in Łódź. They filled quickly at the beginning of the war. Through the summer, they were almost empty. After Russia’s December missile strikes on Ukrainian infrastructure, they filled again.

“The level of support is getting lower,” Khaulyak said. “Some who were actively supporting get tired.”

Khaulyak said she doesn’t believe that Poles resent Ukrainian refugees – it’s simply that the war is dragging on with no end on sight.

“At the beginning, it was shocking. Now it’s a part of normal life,” she said.

Some Poles perceive support for Ukrainian refugees as part of larger struggles.

“We’re not that different from Ukrainians. Our way of thinking is not very different,” Lato said. “They are fighting for all of Europe.”

Khaulyak’s normal life doesn’t look the same as it did a year ago. She came to Łódź with her daughter from Lviv in March to stay with relatives. When she talks about home, her eyes well with tears.

 “I hope we will be able to live in our country. I know it will not be the same Ukraine I left. But still, I want to go home.”

Ismail also doesn’t know what his future holds, but his wife wants to return.

“I’m beginning to think of building a life elsewhere far away,” he said. “We lost everything. We’ve lost our friends. Our children’s future has been stolen.”

Makarova also dreams of returning to Ukraine, though she is grateful for the haven of Poland. When she arrived, she stayed in a hotel and found a community of other women with children. Her plan, if she can’t move home this spring, is to share a home with a friend. One of them will go to work and the other will stay home with the kids.

“I hope we will be able to live in our country,” she said. “I know it will not be the same Ukraine I left. But still, I want to go home.”

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