“For some reason, the propaganda always promoted that it’s just in Donbas; mines are only in Donbas. No one would ever mention that there are mines in the Lviv region, too. I think that this information was suppressed even. So when I finally found out that there, too, were miners, there, too, mines were unprofitable, there, too, mines were getting shut down… They were really dividing us into East and West, there was a concerted divisive political effort. Even more so, I remember being told in Novopskov, “Are you crazy? God forbid you’d go to western Ukraine! God forbid you’d speak Russian there! That’s it, you’re as good as dead!” And they’d tell a bajillion of stories about a young teacher going there and getting attacked or beaten or whatnot. <…> I believed those stories. My first visit happened in 2009, to Lviv and to Ivano-Frankivsk, and I was too scared to leave my hotel. And it was in 2009. I was so scared and confused why people would just talk to me and not do anything bad. I grew up practically in modern-day Ukraine, having critical thinking skills. But this fear ingrained in me in my childhood… These stories were told to me by my teachers, and I trusted them, having no reason not to. Last week [March of 2023], as part of one of my projects, I brought a few women originally from the Luhansk region to Bukovel [a ski resort in the Ukrainian Carpathian mountains]. They shared about this, too. For some of them, it was their first time visiting Bukovel and seeing the Carpathian mountains. For some of them, the war was the reason to come to the western Ukraine for the first time. Most of them tell that they, too, in their childhood and youth, experienced this shoving down of scary stories about western Ukraine and people [that live there]. So when they’d visit and start to realize how untrue these were, how it’s totally different, they’d go back and share about it, but they came under immense pressure from propaganda, ‘Stop saying that!’ and they were hushed up, one way or another. And they couldn’t figure out why.”
“2012 was quite a year. First of all, Ukraine was hosting Euro-2012 [Europe’s soccer championship, its finals matches played in Poland and Ukraine]. We saw real changes: Intercity trains, renovations, new buildings, and crowds of tourists. Ukraine is open, Ukraine speaks English, Ukraine is interesting to the world. And all these intentions to join the European Union… So we were beginning to form… we – my circle, my friends, my community that I spent a lot of time with – we started thinking about this ‘Europe.’ Even more so because by then, I’d had a chance to visit Australia, London, Vienna, Germany, and Italy. <…> I saw the world – how unique and free it is, and I had such a desire for Ukraine to be the same way. Two realities existed: you kind of see that Ukraine welcomes international tourists and Ukraine is free, but at the same time, working in banking, having connections to different businesses, and talking to different businesses, you start to understand that a coercive takeover regime is in full swing. It’s when businesses are taken away because they caught the eye of Yanukovych’s son, when businessmen would just disappear or go bankrupt. So you see that these realities exist, and the tension rises, and you see that these folks that came to power, all they do is snatch. Downright thieves! These folks have nothing to do with the democratic Ukraine we dreamt of, Ukraine that can be like other countries – Austria, Italy, whatnot. So our circle starts to come to an understanding that thugs are in the government now. That understanding was there even before 2012, but in 2012 it really solidified because we saw those coercive business takeovers. <…> They [Viktor Yanukovych’s clan] are buying up everything, they alone and their cohorts, other people don’t even get a chance to catch a breath. And we saw them tightening the reigns on free thought, on journalism. Sure, some investigative journalism still existed, but the results weren’t readily available. You just watch as it’s getting reeled in, clamped down. I had a feeling that we were getting pressed hard, to the critical point, and that we were bound to explode like an overtightened bag.”
“When I went to my Grandpa’s funeral on the 30th, Mom made me go on April 30 and get on the train. I was standing in Alchevsk, as I remember. The train station in Alchevsk is all gray – everything was always gray there, even before the war, and I can only imagine how straight-up horrid it is now. And already, there were guys with machine guns and St George’s ribbons walking along the platform. I was scared. I got on the train; we had a really long stop in Sloviansk. At the time, they already took over Sloviansk, and this was the last train that left; for whatever reason, they let it through. I was sitting with a prayer book in Ukrainian – not that I’m a big believer in God, just something I took with me. And I was reading. All by myself in the train car, except for the conductor. Being the only one in the coupe, I locked the door and then realized it wouldn’t do me much good. I wasn’t looking out in the window, already seeing a lot of armed people on the platforms. I was afraid they’d come to me on the train. Because you understand that you don’t have any lawful rights here, no rights at all, you’re in their hands, and they’ll do to you as they wish. They are the kings and gods of this life because Russia gave them this opportunity, gave them weapons and permission to do whatever they want.”
“At the time [on the eve of Russia’s full-scale invasion], I was working in the analytical center ‘Vox Ukraine.’ Some of our projects were sponsored by Americans, and they really insisted on us having an emergency plan for the evacuation of our workers. They really insisted on having such a plan even in January. We did make this plan, and it helped us on February 24th get the whole team together and figure out where we’re at. Most of our teammates didn’t want to leave, but there were some, I was among them, who were immediately willing to leave. A car was sent to get me, and I, together with my Mom and my daughter, traveled to western Ukraine on February 24th. But on February 23rd, I began taking a class in an American course on ‘US politics and government.’ That’s pretty much on how the USA gained its independence from Britain. It was the first lecture, and that evening, the entire time, I’d send my sweetheart message after message with interesting tidbits from this lecture by a university professor. I’d say, ‘Look, they tried to separate from Britain, they wanted independence. It’s so much like what’s happening in our country, our Ukraine and Russia. Except for the part where, unfortunately, there is no ocean between us and Russia, and our borders are oh so close.’ So, on [February] 23rd, I went to bed with so much anxiety and woke up because my sweetheart called me and said, ‘The war has begun. C’mon, leave Kyiv quickly. You must leave Kyiv today.’ At the time, he was in the Luhansk region with his extended family and his parents. We agreed that we’d meet up in western Ukraine. <…> The voice that he spoke with that day, I’ve never heard before. He wasn’t scared but said, ‘This war will be really horrid. So horrid that perhaps, not everyone will survive it.’”
“In Germany I met a musician by the name AJ. He’s Egyptian, studied in Canada, and is now residing in Germany. <…> He’s a firefighter, and he also sings. Together we did various charity concerts, it was a great experience. One time, he offered me to sing ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon, and he said, ‘Could you add a verse in Ukrainian?’ I thought, ‘Oh God, it’s plain impossible to add on to Imagine.’ I was dragging my feet. <…> So, I walk around, vacuuming, humming, and this Ukrainian passage just springs into my mind. ‘Just imagine that people don’t know the word ‘pain’. Love and peace are everywhere, around you, all over. Just imagine that the world is full of joy and love.’ Trying to remember it, I grab a napkin and see some markers, so I write it down quickly, quickly. So, I went to the band practice with it; he had a good laugh and asked more about what this was. I told him. He said, ‘ We’re holding a charity concert. I’ll frame this, and we can auction it off.’ And really, it was sold for almost 400 euros – an engaged German couple, both in military service. They invited me to their wedding in September but I was engaged othewise. They bought it, we became friends and started talking. They came to visit me, invited me to visit, and we keep in touch. They’re good people, got the right mindset, supporting Ukraine. So that’s a bit of an experience. That concert pulled together in one evening more than 20,000 euros to support local Ukrainian refugees that were in Germany.”
Maryna Bohun was born on January 2, 1982, in the town of Novopskov in the Luhansk region. She has been engaged in music since childhood. In 1999, she moved to Luhansk to begin her studies there. At first she majored in opera singing, but later enrolled at Donetsk National Agrarian University to study economics. However, she did not give up music, performing at numerous concerts and music competitions, including the „Sofiyivski Zori“ All-Ukrainian Festival of Artistic Creativity and the „On the Waves of Svityaz“ Festival of Ukrainian Pop Song. Maryna Bohun built a career at one of Ukraine‘s top banks. In 2013-14, she supported the Euromaidan protesters during the Revolution of Dignity, collecting volunteer aid and attending rallies with her colleagues. She played the lead in the rock musical „Got to be free“ inspired by the events of the Revolution of Dignity. Together with Serhiy Zhadan, a well-known writer originally from the Luhansk region, she organized the Road to the East literary and artistic festival: in 2016, it was held in the Luhansk region, and next year, in the Kharkiv region. She also initiated the creation of several murals in the cities of eastern Ukraine. Since 2020, Maryna Bohun has worked as Communications Director at the Vox Ukraine think tank. After the outbreak of the full-scale Russian invasion, she left for Germany for a short time. There, she organized charity events and sent medical supplies to Ukraine. In the spring of 2022, she coordinated the Seeds for Ukraine project, in which people from all over the world sent seeds of basic vegetable crops to people from the de-occupied territories. In October 2022, she created the non-governmental organization „Zrostai Foundation“, which supports female IDPs from the Luhansk region and their families.
Hrdinové 20. století odcházejí. Nesmíme zapomenout. Dokumentujeme a vyprávíme jejich příběhy. Záleží vám na odkazu minulých generací, na občanských postojích, demokracii a vzdělávání? Pomozte nám!
