Homerton student Vladyslav came to Cambridge in October 2021 to begin a one-year Masters in Law. He joined the University Law Society, the Amateur Boxing Club and the Ukrainian Society which, at the beginning of February 2022, was planning a trip to Kyiv and Lviv for this coming April. Then everything changed.
“I was studying quite late on the evening of the 23rd, so I slept in,” he says. “I woke up to a phone full of missed calls and messages informing me that Russia had begun a full-scale invasion of Ukraine.”
While some of Vlad's close family are in the UK, most relatives and friends are in Ukraine, experiencing the direct impact of the invasion. His best friend, for whom he was best man last year, is in one of the targeted cities, spending most of his time in the shelter under his home. Another friend, a recent graduate and talented mathematician who was volunteering as a tutor, was killed when her Kharkiv apartment building was shelled.
“I worked for a global law firm in Kyiv a few summers ago – my colleagues there are now fighting. There’s a sense of guilt that other people are heading home to volunteer. But I want to do my best here – organising demonstrations, sending money, raising money, raising awareness.”
The support from both Homerton and the wider University has been rapid and appreciated, from offers of a financial safety net to provision of counselling.
“I’m accessing counselling for the first time in my life,” he says. “I’ve always considered myself resilient, but there are some things you don’t want to be able to bounce back from.”
While fellow students and staff have been sympathetic and supportive, living in a country in which ordinary life continues while your own is under attack cannot be easy.
“It is very strange, doing something normal like walking down the road to the shops, knowing that people in Ukraine can’t do that for fear of shells. But we can’t expect everyone else’s life to be put on hold just because ours is.”
His beloved grandfather sadly died last year, and part of Vlad is relieved that he is not here to witness the horror.
“He was born just after the Second World War and he was so proud of the country’s history, culture and independence. My grandmother is a deputy head, she’s taught Ukrainian language and literature for 40 years. She doesn’t want to leave.”
Cambridge University Ukrainian Society, formerly a source of shared cultural reference points, language and food, has come into its own in the past fortnight as a hub for mutual support, vigils and demonstrations. But it has also highlighted the complexity of overlapping loyalties and family ties in the region.
“One member of the Ukrainian Society is half Russian, half Ukrainian. One of the first rockets to be fired was launched from his father’s town, and hit his mother’s town. I know some Russian students who have cut ties with their families because they support the regime.”
Conscious that his Masters is just a one-year course, Vlad is aware that his final grade depends on exams which he currently can’t imagine finding the head space to prepare for.
“I may have to plead mitigating circumstances, which I’ve never done in my life. But the situation is quite extreme!”
In his more optimistic moments he allows himself to look ahead to a future in which his legal skills will be required to help his country as it rebuilds. But in the meantime he is focusing his energies on keeping Ukraine in the Cambridge consciousness, organising marches, and sending what money he can back home.
“Despite our love for the land and the architecture, Ukraine is the people. This is my way to fight. When we prevail, I want to know that I did my bit.”
