STORIES FROM UKRAINE

The First Days

36 Hours to Safety

Yuliia, Web Developer

We left our hometown, Chernihiv, in the morning on February 24, 2022. We decided to evacuate to Uzhhorod, Ukraine’s westernmost city near the Slovak border, and it took us about 36 hours to get there.

No sleep, no rest, with two drivers taking turns. 

The closer we got to our destination, the more people we saw fleeing from the war.

This photo was taken on February 25th, somewhere near the Carpathians, while we were in the queue before the checkpoint.

On a typical day, it would take around 12 hrs to get from Chernihiv to Uzhhorod.

A Choice No One Should Have to Make

Vitalii, Web Developer

Feb 24, 2022. I woke to messages. Then came the explosion—sharp, like a lightning strike. The sirens followed, signaling the end of life as we knew it. Airstrikes had already begun. That night, we slept in a basement. We could have left the city but stayed for my wife’s elderly parents.

As Russian artillery closed in, my children spent their days in the hallway—the safest place we had—and often slept there. The shelling was constant. On Feb 26, I donated supplies to the city’s defenders. The next day, despite my wife's objections, I enlisted in the Territorial Defense Forces—not out of bravery, but because I needed to act. One day, a neighboring position was hit, and I lay at the bottom of my trench, frozen. I am not religious, but in that moment, I prayed.

At some point, I had to admit the truth: I was doing little to change the course of the war, but at home, I was leaving my family vulnerable. No one would get them out if I didn’t.

We made the impossible decision to leave.

On March 18, we packed what we could and left, driving through mortar fire, hoping the road would hold. Hours later, we reached Vinnytsia, where my manager arranged shelter at the Astound office. That night, for the first time in weeks, my children slept in warmth and silence.

War forces impossible choices. I had to make mine.

Mission Impossible: Escape from Horenka

Pavlo, QA Engineer

Early in March 2022, I experienced what felt like a real-life “Mission Impossible” while escorting my girlfriend’s parents from Horenka to Uzhhorod. On March 5, as Russian forces captured Irpin and Bucha, it became painfully clear that Horenka was next. The town had been without electricity and gas for over a week, and even essential mobile communication was unreliable. A collapsed bridge over the Irpin River offered a temporary barrier, but the threat was relentless.

My girlfriend’s parents were deeply attached to the home they had built, reluctant to leave even as danger closed in. It wasn’t until a shell exploded near their fence—obliterating the last vestige of safety—that we finally convinced them to evacuate. Every moment felt urgent: navigating a perilous “death road,” searching for fuel in Kyiv under chaotic conditions, and racing against curfew while the front line crept ever closer.

On March 6, as parents approached Vinnytsia, curfew was setting in. Thanks to Serhiy Hnatyuk’s help with refueling, they made it to the city—but every hotel was full. Stopping at one, they were initially turned away, but just as they were about to leave, the administrator received a call— a room had opened up. That night, Vinnytsia was shelled again, and the airport was completely destroyed.

By March 7, after three and a half sleepless days of constant tension and peril, we reached Uzhhorod. Despite the exhaustion, it was a moment of relief.

Community & Resilience

Opening Our Doors

Pavlo, QA Engineer

In those first days of war, normal routines were replaced by a constant state of alert. When the power was on, I focused on my job, determined to launch a project by May. When it went off, I turned to volunteering.

I contacted relatives, urging them to seek safety in Uzhhorod, and packed an emergency bag with gas, food, money, and essential supplies. I even helped make Molotov cocktails. To assist those fleeing combat zones, I created a “Checklist of Zakarpattia hubs for temporary accommodation” and supported the Movement to Support Transcarpathian Military. My parents’, my girlfriend’s, and my grandmother’s homes became temporary shelters for relatives, friends, and colleagues escaping from Kyiv, Chernihiv, Horenka, and Vinnytsia.

By April, we had housed 25 refugees—along with two cats, three dogs, and a guinea pig. When space ran out, we found placements for others in friends’ homes, hotels, schools, and community shelters. None of it was planned, but in those moments, all that mattered was making sure people had somewhere safe to go.

A special thanks to my colleagues, parents and partner for their support and facilitation of volunteer activities.

A Morning of Humanity

Maksym, Head of Function

On Dec 31, 2022, as Ukraine prepared to welcome the New Year, Russia launched another mass missile attack. One of the strikes hit Protasiv Yar, a district in Kyiv, destroying homes, setting cars ablaze, and injuring civilians.

A few days later, on Jan 4, a post appeared in our local Facebook group: Volunteers needed to clear debris from the attack site—20 people would be enough.

That morning, as I got ready for work, my wife put on her coat. “People need my help,” she said simply. Instead of heading to work, she went to Protasiv Yar.

When she arrived, it wasn’t 20 people—it was hundreds. Strangers, neighbors, colleagues—people who had never met before—came together, working side by side. Some cleared rubble, others brought food and water. No one waited for instructions; they just knew what had to be done.

That day, watching the videos she sent me, I was reminded of something I’ve seen again and again: Ukrainians are strong, unbreakable, and deeply connected. Even in the face of destruction, we come together—not just to rebuild, but to remind each other that we are never alone.

The Oak That Stood Strong

Oksana, Head of People Tech and Analytics

Witnessing war is one thing. Writing about it is another.

In Feb 2022, Kyiv was targeted for occupation. “Three days,” they said. But the city held, and instead, the suburbs—Irpin, Bucha, Vorzel—were devastated. Homes turned to rubble, streets emptied, lives shattered. When people finally returned—if they were lucky enough to still have a home—they faced more than just destruction. The need for rebuilding stretched beyond buildings; it touched everything—people, animals, infrastructure, even nature itself. 

My family was lucky. We fled on the first day, and when we returned months later, our home was still standing. But our neighborhood wasn’t the same. The streets were scarred, familiar places altered. And then, there was the oak tree.

Before the war, it had been part of our daily routine—a stop along the path to school, a quiet landmark that made mornings feel just a bit more peaceful. Now, it stood damaged, hit by rocket debris.

At first, we hesitated. With everything that needed rebuilding, who would worry about a tree? But then we realized—if we didn’t, no one would.

So we took action. We gathered opinions in a local chat, found a specialist, got permission from the authorities, and figured out how to make it work. It took time, effort, and money. There were no guarantees it would survive.

But today, the tree still stands—wounded but alive. And every time we pass by, we turn our heads and smile at its green canopy. It might’ve been a small thing, but it mattered.

Keeping the Lights On

Olexandr, Web Developer

In the first year of the war, I relied on every resource available to stay connected and keep working. I used Starlink for internet access and rigged car batteries with an inverter during frequent power outages. 

Later, I installed a stationary battery in my apartment to secure a reliable power supply during the frequent blackouts, and I helped friends connect similar systems in their homes. Even in war, we adapt, we endure, and we find ways to reclaim control—one small, determined step at a time.

Pavlo, QA Engineer

When missile strikes left us without reliable electricity, staying connected became a daily battle. In 2022, I set up a backup system—a Bluetti battery with solar panels—to keep my laptop and internet running for up to 12 hours during blackouts. It wasn’t perfect, but it meant I could keep working despite constant disruptions.

By 2023, I upgraded to a more powerful setup, capable of running an entire apartment—lights, fridge, internet—for up to 48 hours. These weren’t just technical upgrades; they were a way to push back against uncertainty, to stay connected, and to keep moving forward—even when the power, quite literally, was out.

Rebuilding What War Took Away

Natalia, QA Lead

In the spring of 2022, as the war intensified, a missile struck the house we had been planning to move into that summer. In an instant, what was meant to be our future home became another casualty of the destruction.  

I had poured so much of myself into this house—carefully planning every detail, even taking interior design courses to create the home we truly wanted. And then, just as I had welcomed new life into the world, I watched the place we had built for our family get torn apart.

But instead of giving up on our dream, we set to work repairing the damage. 

By the fall of 2023, we had rebuilt our home and finally moved in. Knowing that power outages would be a part of our reality, we equipped the house with batteries and a generator to ensure we had electricity for work and life.

It was a quiet, stubborn refusal to let war take away what we had built, what we had dreamed of. Because no matter how much destruction it leaves behind, war does not get to define our future. We do.

Strength Through Support

Natalia, QA Lead

In the midst of chaos, I found my own way to help defend our country. I managed to raise over $10,000 in donations to support the anti-tank platoon of a mechanized battalion in the 30th Separate Mechanized Brigade—a contribution that directly bolstered the tools our defenders needed to stay safe. 

At the same time, my family and I have been using our 3D printer to produce essential parts for military equipment. 

Every donation and every piece printed is a small, tangible step toward supporting those on the frontlines. 

Pavlo, Web Developer

I joined the Social Drone UA initiative—a volunteer effort focused on building FPV drones to support Ukrainian defenders on the frontlines. 
With the help of friends, including colleagues from Astound, we sourced parts and assembled dozens of drones, knowing that each one could help save lives.

Pavlo, QA Engineer

Some of my friends—people I studied with, shared school memories with—have been defending Ukraine on the frontlines since 2017. When the full-scale invasion began, I started gathering supplies—Mavic drone batteries, repair parts, anything that could help them stay operational. I also helped university friends with car repairs, making sure their vehicles were fit for evacuations and frontline use.

For me, this isn’t just about donations—it’s about standing by the people I grew up with, the people I work with, and doing my part to help them make it through.

Olexandr, Web Developer

Living near the Trypilskaya TPP, I witnessed the unpredictable nature of this war firsthand. In April 2023, rocket fragments flew directly into my house, and an apartment in the neighboring entrance was destroyed—thankfully, no one was hurt. This close call pushed me to take action beyond just donating; I wanted to contribute actively to our defense.

When I eventually switched to fiber optic, I donated my Starlink setup to the army, knowing that every resource counts.  Later, I discovered the potential of FPV drones and dove into learning everything about them. 

I built my first drone, learned to fly it, and soon found myself helping assemble dozens more. I even took the time to teach friends, many of whom were already serving in the Armed Forces, how to operate these drones safely and effectively. 
More recently, since the beginning of 2024, I’ve been channeling my technical skills into 3D printing for the army, producing over 100 kg of plastic parts and fine-tuning the designs to meet evolving military needs. Every innovation, every piece printed, is a small but tangible contribution to our collective defense.

The Unsung Heroes of Ukraine

 Oksana, Head of People Tech and Analytics

The world may not fully recognize the role Ukrainian volunteers play in this war. But for those of us who see their work every day, they are nothing short of heroes.

Since 2014, ordinary people—teachers, bakers, climbers, chefs—have left their everyday lives behind to help others. They didn’t plan for this, but when the war came, they stepped up. I want to share a few of those I admire the most. Just reading their stories will show you how incredible these people are.

These are just a few of the thousands of volunteers working tirelessly across Ukraine. Knowing them keeps my faith in people alive, supporting them makes me feel like I’m doing my part to bring victory closer.

Kate, Change Manager

My uncle spent years as an explosives technician at the Ministry of Emergency Situations. When the full-scale invasion began, he didn’t hesitate—he joined Kyiv’s defense while sending his wife to Vinnytsia for safety. When russian forces withdrew from Kyiv, he didn’t go home. Instead, he volunteered for a UAV unit and was deployed to Eastern Ukraine—one of the deadliest frontlines. For his service, he was awarded the Silver Cross of the Commander-in-Chief among other recognitions. 

My cousin stepped onto the battlefield with an infantry unit. A landmine took his leg. Now, he’s learning to walk again. 

And those of us at home? We fight in our own way. My aunt wove camouflage nets. My mom and I hunted down impossible-to-find equipment in the war’s chaotic first months. Even my grandma cooked and sent meals to the front—for our loved ones and their brothers-in-arms.

This is my family’s story—and I am proud and grateful beyond words. But it’s also the story of thousands of families across Ukraine—quietly, relentlessly standing behind those who protect us.

Echoes of War

Work. War. Volunteering. Life. Repeat.

Pavlo, QA Engineer

The war forced us into a rhythm that no one should have to live by—Work. War. Volunteering. Life. Repeat.

Every day, air raid alarms interrupted life, shaking us out of sleep, stopping us mid-conversation, reminding us of our new reality. When the power was on, I worked—determined to push forward, to finish a project that was supposed to launch in May. When the power was out, I shifted to volunteering—gathering supplies, coordinating evacuations, doing anything that made me feel like I had some control in a world spiraling into chaos.

Over time, I learned to adapt. I started keeping a diary, noting key events to keep track of time—it helped me stay grounded. I forced myself into habits that created a sense of control: limit the news—three updates a day, repeat a mantra—“Today will be a very important day”, and find moments of movement.

In war, staying grounded isn’t a luxury—it’s the only way to keep going.

The Most Valuable Thing

Yuliia, Total Rewards Specialist

If someone had told me three years ago that I would be sharing this story—and that it would come to define my life—I never would have believed it.

The morning of February 24, 2022, is forever etched in my memory: the first explosions above our house, a hastily packed backpack with our most treasured belongings, panic in the streets, endless traffic jams, blaring sirens, and a confusing sense of isolation in the midst of chaos. 

In a desperate search for safety, I fled to my relatives in Bucha, only to discover that even that refuge was fleeting. Soon, I found myself surrounded by tanks, military vehicles, planes, and armed soldiers—the stark reality of war unfolding before my eyes. Within just five days, all the essentials we once took for granted—water, gas, electricity, communication—vanished, forcing us to rely on a fireplace we’d never used and the neighbor’s well.

Yet, despite the overwhelming uncertainty, I never lost hope. What kept me going were the unwavering support of my family and dear ones, the extraordinary help from my team, and the small reminders of beauty in everyday life—old photos that evoked memories of happier times, and the realization that there are others facing even greater challenges: small children, the sick, pregnant women, and even the comfort of pets.

On April 6, I returned home with the same backpack, but with a transformed perspective. 

I learned that the most valuable thing isn’t what you pack in your bag; it’s life itself.

When War Becomes Routine

Kate, Change Manager

The other week, I was chatting with my teammate Maria from Colombia when she asked about my experience with the war. One memory immediately came to mind.

It was a regular workday. My husband and I were both working from home when, suddenly, the house shook. A deafening explosion followed. Before I could process what was happening, my husband pulled me to the floor. Then—silence. We scrambled to check the news, message friends, and figure out what had been hit. That’s when we realized: the facility next to my mom’s workplace.

Panic set in. We called her over and over—no answer. The area was already sealed off by emergency services, and for thirty minutes, we had no idea if she was safe. Then, finally, she called. She had been in the bomb shelter when the missile struck.

I told Maria that less than an hour later, I was back on a work call. I even laughed about it—because what else was there to do? You just keep going.

But Maria’s shocked reaction made me pause. It was a reminder of something I had stopped noticing: in Ukraine, we’ve learned to normalize what no one should ever have to. Air raids, destruction, blackouts, uncertainty—it’s just part of life now.

Not because we’re unaffected. But because we have to keep moving forward. 

Thank you for taking the time to read these stories.

They are lived experiences of resilience, courage, and unwavering strength. And while our Ukrainian colleagues continue to adapt, rebuild, and push forward, they hope the world won’t look away.

Awareness is a form of support. 

Learn more, spread the word, or take action through the resources on the next slide. And remember, support isn’t just about what you give—it’s about knowing, understanding, and standing with those who need it.

🇺🇦 Thank you for standing with Ukraine. Thank you for caring.

Stay Informed

russia invests hundreds of millions of dollars into spreading disinformation about Ukraine. Some of it is obvious, while some is more subtle and designed to manipulate perceptions over time.

Subscribe to resources below to receive trusted information and updates about events in Ukraine: 

• The Kyiv Independent (website, facebook, X/twitter, youtube, instagram)     

• United24 Media (website, X/twitter, youtube, instagram)
• Radio Liberty

Documentaries:

• 20 Days in Mariupol (Netflix, Apple TV, Prime Video)
• Life to the Limit (Takflix) 
• The Hardest Hour (Youtube w/ English subtitles)
• Us, Our Pets and the War (Netflix)