I have known her for so long that I can’t even recall when it all began. She is the kind of person whose honesty feels refreshing, never cruel. She tends to always avoid arguments, not because of the fear of being attacked and hurt, but simply because of her deeper belief that maintaining peace with her closest ones is the most valuable thing. At the same time, she seems soft from the inside but possesses unshakable strength that guides her through every challenge.
Together, Hanna Voloshyna and I have traveled a vast road — from mischievous childhood games, through the storms of teenage dramas and soon to the soaring caps of college graduation.
When I sat down with her in Vyšehrad, the place we would always choose for deep talks when she would come to Prague to visit me, she began to recount the challenges that shaped her personality and became a stepping stone towards the person she is today. Her name is Hanna Voloshyna. She is a 20-year-old Ukrainian girl who grew up in Zaporizhzhia, Southeastern Ukraine.
The Zaporizhzhia region has become the target of constant Russian shelling since the beginning of the Russian-Ukrainian war in 2022. Zaporizhzhia city is not invaded; however, the whole region has been constantly under Russian terror. Living in this region is extremely dangerous, primarily because of the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant that is located right on the front lines.
Since Russian forces have occupied the plant, they may cause one of the biggest tragedies -radiation release. Depending on the wind direction and the severity of the accident, radioactive clouds may affect a large part of Europe and its citizens. ‘’We are very scared that it will be the second Chernobyl’, Hanna said.
At the time the war started, Hanna, who goes by Anya, happened to be in Zaporizhzhia. She recalls her fear as rumors of the coming war began.
“It was pretty scary, there were a lot of rumors that the war would happen, but I was sure that it wouldn’t. We had to pack and leave, and my parents were trying to reassure me that it would end soon and we wouldn’t need to flee our home.”
Unfortunately her parents were wrong. I was in the U.S. and called her to tell her the war had started. Anya stood up shaking and woke her parents, trying to figure out what to do next. The tipping point happened to be the call of Anya’s half-sister, who moved to Australia 8 years earlier. She cried out anxiously into the phone, ‘If I were Anya’s mother, I would pack her bags and leave with her’. That’s exactly what Anya’s mother did.
Crying her eyes out from the fear of ruining the family and leaving her dad behind, they packed their whole lives into two small suitcases and left. By the time they arrived at the train station, they felt like they were in an apocalypse movie. People had abandoned their cars and the train station was full.
“I’d never seen it like this, there was no space to even stand,” Anya recalled.
But Anya says the worst part was the terrible rumor that the train everyone was waiting for would be the last one.The memories of that train refuse to fade in her memory.
“People behaved like animals. Some guys were passing their luggage above our heads, and some people even fell onto the rails”. When Anya and her family finally entered their train carriage, there wasn’t an inch of space to move. In that moment, a sudden sense of déjà vu hit her, as if she had felt it all before, she remembered a story her grandmother had told.
Her grandmother, Svetlana, was five years old when she had to abandon her home in Minsk, Belarus. With the onset of World War II, Svetlana and her mother fled their home on a cattle train. Anya’s grandmother recalled she felt like a caged animal in that train, a train that carried them away to Siberia, the region of eternal frost. Mothers managed to make some space for their children to sit. Exhausted, they had been on their feet for an unbearable week.
Svetlana had no contact with her father who was away at the front, and endured a year of not knowing anything. Svetlana and her family lived in Siberia for a while, until her father was stationed in Ukraine and her family joined him.
Anya’s grandmother had a fragile life stretched between two wars. Born during the Second World War, she passed away during the Russian invasion of Ukraine on June 6th, 2024.
“I never thought that I was going to experience a similar story as my grandmother’s, who witnessed two wars,“ Anya said.
Lowering her eyes, a tear ran down her face, “In that train I realized that in the future it is going to be me who is going to tell my story to my grandkids.”
Once Anya and her mother reached Lviv, they had to wait in a huge line for the bus to take them up to the Polish border. Instead, they boarded a smaller bus which took them to a small village, where they continued to walk to the border. They trudged for half a day towards Poland.
“After the whole night without food or sleep, some volunteers [found us and] brought us to a shelter where we could rest. I also heard that one Polish guy wanted to help Ukrainian refugees by driving them through the border to Warsaw, but no one understood him. Since I spoke Polish, I explained that he was trying to help the others, and he agreed to take me and my mum to Warsaw.”
They searched for a place to sleep through a Telegram group chat. One young girl reached out and provided her apartment to Anya and her mother.
“She allowed us to stay for a whole month for free, she also helped us with all the documents and finding accommodation for the next month. I write to her every year on Polish Christmas to say how thankful we are for her help.”
Once in Poland, one of the most challenging things for Anya was studying in a Polish high school for a few months. But Anya’s mother knew it would be important for her in order to apply for free university education later. After spending dozens of hours researching universities that offered free tuition, she found the right one – The Warsaw School of Economics (SGH). Because economics was completely new to her, she had to read multiple books and study hard in the two weeks before the exam.
“I still decided to shoot my shot, and in the end, I got into uni and was studying there for three years. [Now] I’ve finished my studies and have started working at the bank, doing my master’s at the same time.”
Anya’s mother returned to Ukraine right after she started going to the Economics university. Anya never imagined that she would end up where she is today. Her mother had always been very strict and demanding, but she says her grandmother was the only person who always truly believed in her.
“You know my grandmother always showed me kindness and boundless love. I will always hold dear our summer tea parties in the countryside, our movie nights watching Alien, and my grandmother’s macaroni with meat,” tears streamed down Anya’s face. “I would give anything in the world to live through these moments once again.” Yet she didn’t seem sorrowful, more like a warm feeling of nostalgia had wrapped around her as she continued her story.
Even though Anya speaks Polish fluently, she does not feel like she fully belongs. She doesn’t know whether the war makes everything feel bleak, or if it’s just because she hasn’t been in Poland long enough, maybe she’s still finding her footing.
She pointed out that the war has changed her in numerous ways.
“First of all, I grew up very fast. I think it happened overnight in that train when I realized that I am not a 17-year-old teenager who just hangs out with friends and watches Netflix. I am an adult now who has to be strong, take responsibility, and try my best to adjust to a new culture. I am lucky to be safe here in Europe, so I need to take my chance and be grateful. And that’s what I did.”
