Michail, 36, was one of the thousands of protestors on the Maidan (literally: square) in central Kiev. When the protests ended, he went back home to Donetsk and joined the troops fighting the separatists who were starting to take over his province. Soon after, he had to leave his home town. Three of his comrades in the eastern part of the country were recently shot and killed, he says.
”The separatists put me on a death list, too.”
Now, Michail is a refugee in his own country, living in a hiding somewhere outside of Kiev. One of the belongings he took with him, is a separatists‘ flag he conquered. It’s lying on his bed.
Ukraine in 2015 is a country at war. A country where people fight against an enemy and for their ideas and are willing to pay a high price for it.
In February 2014, when I saw how people who were demonstrating peacefully on the Maidan were shot, I was shocked and impressed at the same time. Shocked, because I could not understand how, in a democratic country, people can be killed simply because they are fighting for their ideas. Impressed, because the protestors didn’t stop, although they saw that others were killed.
That’s why I went to Ukraine. I wanted to meet people who are willing to lose everything for the idea of a better life. I wanted to understand them. You will find the results of my encounters in this multimedia narrative. Scroll down to meet 19 Ukrainians.
I met Svitlana Chaplynska this summer in a little city an hour outside of Kiev, where she and her two children are living in a three-room apartment. Buying this apartment was supposed to be the beginning of a better life for the family. That better life was brief, though: within a few months, Svitlana’s husband Volodymyr Chaplynsky was killed. When Volodymyr heard of the events in the Maidan, in November 2013, he felt called to join the protestors.
“He wanted to fight for a free and independent Ukraine, respected by the rest of the world.”
Svitlana supported her husband, because she understood his need to protest. But a sniper killed Volodymyr just two days before former president Viktor Yanukovych fled and the protests ended. A local newspaper showed his dead body lying on a sidewalk near the Maidan.
Next to Volodymyr in the photograph, almost invisible, is the shield that he made from the lid of an old washing machine. The shield was supposed to protect him from the police officers’ riot sticks. Nobody would have imagined that live bullets might be used. Volodymyr’s blood is still visible on the improvised shield.
Now his son has it. Volodymyr Jr. is 21 and studying electrical engineering. Huge tattoos on his left chest and arm show old Japanese fighting symbols.
“The tattoos remind me every day to continue my father’s fight against injustice and corruption.”
For Volodymyr Jr. it’s a matter of course to continue his father’s lifelong battle against “the system.” He doesn’t know how yet, but he’s convinced that he will find a way.
Volodymyr Jr. and his younger sister, Violetta, who is nine years old, are sitting with their mother on the living-room couch. They’re holding Volodymyr’s shield and stick and trying to understand what has happened. Svitlana is convinced that Volodymyr’s early death will be good for something.
Despite their grief, Volodymyr’s family also feel a kind of solace. It’s the belief in a better future for the people in Ukraine, as Svitlana says.
“My children lost their father. They paid a high price. But it was worth it. For them and for all the children in our country. They will have a better life. Thanks to the people who protested on the Maidan.”
The 70 people who were killed on the Maidan are now eternal members of the Revolutionary Guard.
Ukraine is a young country. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, 24 years ago, it became truly independent for the first time in its history. Since then, Ukraine has been searching for its identity. From November 2013 until February 2014, thousands of people protested on the Maidan, the central square in Kiev, because president Viktor Yanukovych refused to sign an Association Agreement with the European Union. Shortly after, the Russians took over the Crimea in the southeastern part of the country, and separatists started a civil war in the provinces Luhansk and Donetsk along the Russian boarder. At the moment, 1.5 million people are on the move. What unites the people in Ukraine, despite their differences, is the will to fight.
Irina, 38, was also at the Maidan. She joined the protests in December 2013 and stayed from then on in a tent on the big city square. Very soon, she became one of the leaders. When president Yanukovych left the country on the night of 22 February 2014, Irina heard about the houses Yanukovych had built for his servants at his immense compound half an hour outside of Kiev. Irina had the idea that those houses could accommodate some of the refugees from eastern Ukraine. Today, around 200 so-called “internally displaced people” are living in the compound. Irina is one of them.
Now that the Russians have taken over the Crimea, where Irina is from, she can’t go back home.
“If I went home, the Russians would put me into prison for at least 15 years. Because I protested against them.”
She will probably never see her parents and sister again. In the improvised refugee camp, the days are long. Irina watches the Parliament’s TV channel. She’s frustrated about the state of the country. The Maidan protests haven’t changed anything, she says. She’s expecting “a next Maidan.”
“We will not give up until we have reached our goal: an uncorrupt and fair government!”
Some politicians share the will to change, but they face a difficult challenge. One is Yuri Bereza, 45. Elected in October 2014, he is still a political newcomer in a system that is difficult to understand. Before he became a member of the Parliament, representing the center-right People’s Front, he was the leader of the volunteer battalion Dnepr 1 in the eastern part of the country.
“Ukraine always was - and still is - a country that brings the two worlds together, the Christian world in the West and the Islamic world in the East. This is what we want to be, a free and independent country between the two worlds. Without mixing them and without belonging to one of them.”
When I met Yuri in his office in the government district in Kiev, I was surprised to see his pistol. He said:
”They tried to kill me nine times already. The pistol wouldn’t really protect me, I know. But it gives me an idea of safety.”
“They” are the Russians. Or the separatists. Or both. Maybe they are the same. Nobody really knows. But in any case, they are threatening the idea of a free and independent Ukraine, Yuri says. Some days after my return, I realized how dangerous the situation is. Radical protestors tried to storm the National Assembly. One National Guard soldier was killed.
Not all members of the People’s Front share the same ideas. Or maybe they share the idea of a free Ukraine but understand something different when they are talking about independence.Andriy Teteruk, in any case, a 42-year-old retired military leader, is continuing the fight for the EU-Ukraine Association Agreement that former president Yanukovych refused to sign.
“This fight started in 2013 with the protests on the Maidan. People protested, because they wanted to have the same rights as the people in the European Union have. And they still want it, I’m convinced.”
Andriy Teteruk believes that it’s only a question of time until Ukraine is a member of the European Union. But there is still a lot of work to do, he thinks.
”Before, I fought with weapons. Now I’m convinced that I can reach more with words.”
But it’s not easy to reach that goal in the Ukrainian Parliament. And in Ukrainian society.
Besides the politicians, many others are fighting against corruption and for an independent Ukraine, at great personal cost. Oleg Orlov, a 26-year-old IT engineer, lived in Donetsk until he came to Kiev for the Maidan protests. Now he’s living with two friends in a small apartment on the outskirts of the city.
“I love my country. I know that people in this country can change things. And they will, as soon as they get the power back.”
Like Andriy Teteruk, he’s convinced that Ukraine belongs to the European Union. With all its liberal values.
Yuliya Byelinska is a publisher and editor. In 2013, an oligarch bought the Kiev publishing company where she worked.
”Our new owner was was a friend of Yanukovych, a bad guy who wanted to influence our ideas with money.”
Nevertheless, Yuliya wrote about Viktor Yanukovych and his regime. About how he stole money from the Ukrainian people. She lost her job just two days before the Maidan protests began. Yuliya joined the peaceful protests on the Maidan.
After meeting the people who are fighting for a change, I talked to someone on the other side: Vladyka Pavel is the leader of the Lavra, the biggest Slavonian monastery, which is situated on a beautiful hill in the city center of Kiev. More precisely, Vladyka (literally: “emperor”) Pavel is one of the highest representatives of the Russian orthodox church. When I met him, I understood why things don’t change that easily in Ukraine. The church still has a lot of power, more than in any Western country.
Vladyka Pavel is determined to run an Eastern church and not a European one.
“In Europe, there is Sodom and Gomorrah. They gave up the traditional idea of a family. Homosexuals are allowed to marry, and instead of father and mother they have ‘partner 1’ and ‘partner 2’.”
This love, a lot of people in Ukraine wouldn’t accept. If they knew, at least.
People like Revaz, 24, and Vania, 21, don’t live their love openly. In Ukraine, it would be too dangerous for two men or two women to walk hand in hand in the street. In June this year, the second gay pride parade was held in Kiev. Mayor Vitaly Klitschko asked the organization to cancel the event in order “to avoid confrontation.” The organizers didn’t listen. They wanted to fight for their rights. Finally, the radical Right Sector movement attacked the 350 LGBT supporters marching along the Dnepr river. Five police officers were injured.Revaz, a committed gay activist, was amongst the protestors. Although he was scared, he would not give up to fight for what he calls his right.
Vania has lived a closeted life. The one time he tried to be openly gay, he was seriously bashed by a group of young men on the campus of his school. Not even his family knows that he’s living with a man. Therefore, posing in front of my camera was a big step for him. But he knows that it’s an important step. If there were no people fighting for their rights, he says, nothing ever would change in his home country. And things will change, he’s convinced.
“In 2020, Revaz and I will be married and have children. Ukraine is changing.”
They didn’t tell me their names. But they told me their ages. They are all between 18 and 23 years old. I met them at the training camp of the Azov Battalion, somewhere in the suburbs of Kiev. The Azov Battalion is a far right, all-volunteer infantry unit forming part of the military reserve of the National Guard of Ukraine, fighting against the separatists in the eastern part of the country. Azov soldiers are often labelled “neo-Nazi”, an accusation that they deny.The day I met them at their camp, some of them were on urban warfare exercises.
Before they are sent to the front line, they undergo three weeks of training, including daily physical and mental exercises. When I met them, they were just finishing the two-week-long basic training. One week later, they had to go to the front line in eastern Ukraine, where most of them originally are from.
Viktor, 21, called “Chorniy” (“The Black”), is the official spokesman of the Azov Battalion in Kiev and the only one allowed to answer my questions.
”To be honest, until 2013, when the Maidan started, I had no idea of politics. I wasn’t even interested. At most, I knew the name of the president. But then I realized that I had to do something for my homeland.”
He has been with the Azov battalion for a year now. He’s one of the ten instructors on the compound, responsible for the organization of the daily training program. I asked him why he and his young comrades joined Azov.
In total, there are around 1500 volunteers in the Azov batallion. The training is hard, but they are well paid. They earn twice as much as an average employee in Kiev. Might that be the true reason why these young guys are willing to give their blood for their homeland?
Ukraine survives thanks to people who are voluntarily doing what others would not. Danilo is one of them. He joined the National Guard although his wife was pregnant and he had a good life.
“I saw what happened on the Maidan. Others despaired, but my patriotic feelings became even stronger. I went to the army to defend my homeland.”
He fought at the front line for almost a year. Within a few weeks, he could have gone home. But then he was shot by a sniper. A bullet went through both his legs. He hardly survived.
In the meantime, Danilo’s wife gave birth to a girl. Danilo hasn’t seen her yet. When he’s talking about her, he starts to cry. Nevertheless, he would go back to the front line if it were possible. His fight isn’t over yet.
Out on the front line, life for the soldiers is hard. If not for official and private organizations collecting food, clothes and other goods for the men and women in the war zone, most of them wouldn’t survive. Tamara Duda set up one of the hundreds of small organizations in the country that brings goods to the eastern Ukraine. Every third week, she and her colleague drive with a car full of provisions to Luhansk and Donetsk. To get there, they have to pass numerous checkpoints, controlled by either separatists or National Guard members. It’s a trip they could pay for with their lives.
Why is Tamara doing this dangerous work?
“For me, it’s a great honor to do this. It’s my pride. It’s not work for me, it’s a duty.”
But wouldn’t it be a task of the public sector to look after the soldiers in the war zone, I asked her.
I would like to finish my story with the last encounter I had in Ukraine this summer. I met Ihor, 33, at a courthouse in the center of Kiev. Ihor was shot in his leg while he was protesting on the Maidan. Like all the wounded protestors, he wants the one who shot him to be sentenced. The problem is that officially nobody knows who actually fired on the protestors.
Ihor’s friend Serheij, 26, is fighting with him. Together, they go to the courthouse once a month. Serheij’s right leg is injured.
“That was no coincidence. They exactly knew whom they were shooting. They wanted to stop us. But they couldn’t.”
to all the people who helped me to realize this multimedia narrative. First of all, the people I met in Ukraine. I’m very grateful that they trusted me – that they let my take photographs and told me their stories. Then I would like to thank Illia Galka who helped me to find these people. He was a perfect guide and translator. And a good sounding board. I’m very grateful to to my school, the Photo Academy in Amsterdam, for all I learnt over the last four years. Special thanks to Patricia de Ruijter, Cissie van der Ven, Ruud de Jong, Menno Bartelse, Marjolein van Veen, Nicole Segers, Guido de Heer, Monique Baan, Aleid Denier, and my class mates. Many thanks to Judy Cohen and Bernie Gilbert in New York, who helped me to complete my texts. Then I would like to thank my friend Bert Bulder for all his help during the last years. And, last but not least, my husband Simon Ming for his endless patience and support.
© 2026 Patrick Rohr
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