
Of course, for each of us, life was divided into before and after when we all woke up to the sound of explosions on 24 February 2022. Could you go back in time and describe for us where you were on 24 February 2022 and what thoughts and emotions were going through your mind?
What were you doing in the first days, weeks and months of the full-scale war? Were you involved in any organisations, movements, events?
I started work almost immediately on 24 February. From that day on, the editorial staff worked around the clock. In a few weeks, the audience of our Telegram news channel grew from 4,000 to almost 100,000 people. Understanding that society has a huge demand for the timely and at the same time verified information that you provide them with was an emotional support at that time. The main task for me at the time was to reorient myself in the information space. I had previously worked as a news editor for a service city media and had no experience of covering war. An interview with a Chornobyl worker who spent more than a month in the occupied railway station, a story about the Ukrainian blockade of freight traffic on the Polish-Belarusian border and a report about the wounded at Kramatorsk railway station were some of my first big stories after the start of the full-scale invasion. In the first month, the work took up almost all the days and nights. It was an openly wild regime, but strangely it helped to escape hysteria and rumination. The team was reinforced by former editors who volunteered. I think everyone felt that the work was a kind of mission.


Have there been any volunteer movements organised in your town since the invasion began? Do you remember any? Perhaps you were involved in such initiatives/movements, or you or your student friends were.
I spent the first week of the full-scale war in Kyiv, and then I was forced to go to the Rivne region for a month. There, in the town of Dubno, I tried to combine work with volunteering. Mostly it was weaving camouflage nets for the military, and together with my friends we also helped collect food for the front, probably like all Ukrainians at that time. I returned to my hometown as soon as the Kyiv region was liberated. I made several journalistic expeditions to the liberated villages. I brought back reports from Dmytrivka, where one of the most famous tank battles in the region took place, and from Borodyansky district, where I reported on the post-war destruction and how volunteers were helping to rebuild the homes of the victims.

What work are you most interested in today? What positive changes are you trying to bring about through your work every day?
The issues I have been working on for the past year and a half include war crimes, reconstruction and the phenomenon of volunteering in Ukraine. At the same time, I continue to cover urban issues and news and broadcast them to an audience of thousands. Whatever my future professional path, my goal is to continue working in the independent media in Ukraine, contributing to the formation of open public debate, mutual understanding and civic responsibility. I believe that I can do this in a variety of formats and through a variety of topics – from urban development to culture, from reporting on socio-political life to, of course, talking about the war.
Tell us a little more about the activities of The Village Ukraine, where you work, what issues are most relevant today, and what’s the most memorable thing you’ve done since the war started?
For The Village Ukraine, the beginning of the full-scale invasion was the beginning of a transformation. I think in the last year and a half we have managed to do a lot of important things as a media outlet. In particular, the publication has an English-language section where we tell foreigners about life in Ukraine during the war. We are also gradually introducing the world to Ukrainian culture and brands. We have also published a series of reports from frontline cities, from Kharkiv to Zaporizhzhya. We are working on the second series of materials on Russian war crimes.
According to the editor-in-chief, this is probably our most challenging and responsible project. I think The Village Ukraine podcasts deserve special attention. For example, I am often asked to express my gratitude to the authors of In Simple Words (our psychology podcast) for their contribution to mental health during the war. We are now launching a special season of the podcast on health during war as part of the All-Ukrainian Mental Health Programme “Are You OK?”, with Health Minister Viktor Liashko and First Lady Olena Zelenska as our first guests. We have also launched important podcasts on the contemporary history of Stepan Bandera Street and the Reception podcast on the feelings of the military and their relationship with civilians, with psychotherapist and human rights activist in civilian life and now army volunteer Artem Osypian.
What contribution would you like to make to this crucial period of Ukrainian history, what changes would you like to bring about in your community, your team, your audience, etc. to bring us closer to victory? What would you like to do in the near future, in the next six months, to bring about these changes in your work as a journalist?
I often realise the importance of my work after having done it. For example, when you report from a hospital about the injured in Kramatorsk and find people who are willing to give the help that the people in the story need. Or when your story about the need for plant-based food in the army is shared on the official Ukrainian Instagram channel. And you realise that you’ve made a significant contribution to the development of the discussion about inclusivity in the army. A story I wrote about the restoration of a house on Lobanovsky Avenue in Kyiv after a missile strike was cited by the BBC, which is a refutation of the narratives that the war in Ukraine is a fake, which were actively spread in the American information space in February 2023. Another important text for me was a piece about the ‘home front heroes’ – public utility and emergency service workers who continue to do their jobs in the face of Russia’s systematic shelling of Ukraine’s critical infrastructure. I told the stories of rescuers, doctors, road builders and electricians. I wanted Kyiv to see and know its heroes. And to know that they were in pain and suffering. I think this is also a contribution to raising the level of mutual understanding in society, to unity, which is extremely important in times of war.
In a few words or sentences, describe how you see our victory and Ukraine of the future after the war.
I am confident that what has been destroyed will be replaced by something qualitatively new. At least I can see these processes already. I am very inspired by certain examples and approaches to reconstruction, where architects use a modern, ecological approach while trying to preserve authenticity. I am also inspired by the clean-ups that have become a common form of mutual aid in the midst of war. It is as if these communities are the basis for future co-operation, for the improvement of the living conditions of Ukrainians in times of peace. Or to overcome other crises. I think Ukraine of the future will be more aware, wounded but stronger, and definitely without an inferiority complex.
Looking at your life before and after 24 February, have your views and visions of things changed since then? I think events of this magnitude should change something in people psychologically, have you noticed this in yourself? Maybe some of the things you’ve worked on, some individual interviews or stories you’ve done, changed that.
One day I was struck by the thought that I would never know what kind of journalist I would have become if a full-scale war had not started. It may sound strange, but war, even when it’s not the main focus, is always in the background. It always seems to reinforce the importance of everything you write about. Feel the difference between writing about the problems of vegans in the city and writing about the problems of vegans in the army. The feeling that the “powerful” issues that resonate have been on the surface for a while – you didn’t have to dig very deep to do something “important”. Everything that stayed with us in those first months of the war was important. You could feel it in how much attention people paid to your work, how they read it. Now it’s harder to find a focus, and that’s the main challenge for me in terms of professional development.
Are there people you know, maybe friends, who you look up to and admire? People who, for example, are active volunteers or members of the armed forces and who, in one way or another, are of service to our country and our people?
I am inspired by people in Ukraine who find the strength to be constructive and friendly, despite the fact that this resource is extremely difficult to obtain from outside. I am inspired by individual businesses and initiatives that continue to create and rebuild in the face of destruction. I have boundless gratitude and respect for the military. But I don’t even think about looking up to them, because I don’t have the courage to choose that path for myself. I just try to live and work in such a way that their efforts and sacrifices are not in vain, and to help the armed forces in whatever way I can.
How has the war affected and is affecting Ukrainian journalism today, especially from the point of view of The Village, where you work? What power do you think it has today? What should your journalism and the journalism of your colleagues at The Village be conveying to the people, to promote a better understanding of what’s happening, more empathy, certainly.
I think I would like to stress that the war has had a strong economic impact on the independent (and I would like to stress this) Ukrainian journalism. Our media, for example, existed mainly thanks to the income from commercial cooperation with companies, from advertising materials, which, by the way, we always labelled very clearly. But this market was virtually destroyed in the first months of the war and has not yet fully recovered. We continue to work thanks to grants. We are also trying to build a community of readers who would support our work financially, but in general this is a big challenge for us. I think we will be stronger as a media outlet the more support we get from our readers.

What war stories do you personally find most difficult to cover, and how do you overcome this internal conflict? Which of your stories have the greatest value and significance for you? Which have improved someone’s life in some way, helped to raise an issue, or informed about very painful issues that cannot be ignored?
In the first few months of the war, I made a piece with psychotherapist Sofia Terlez explaining what collective trauma is and its consequences for society. Among other things, we talked about the disorder in society that leads to increased aggression, especially in the information space. Since we have been working with the information space, we have really noticed this electrification, the increased sensitivity of the audience. At the same time, there is this moment of self-censorship, where you are afraid to write about certain issues, so as not to harm state interests, so as not to cause more discord or demoralisation. So I was quite shocked when the BBC recently decided to tell the stories of soldiers who died in the first days of the Russian invasion of Kyiv by ‘friendly fire’. I had previously thought that this was a very demoralising subject and not the best one for discussion. But my more experienced colleagues assured me that it was about the feelings of the relatives of those soldiers, about their right to know and to tell others how they died. Perhaps the most important thing in this whole story is to understand what constructive result you want to achieve by covering a particular issue and how your work will help to solve the problem.
Translator: Ivan Chepaykin