Rebuilding futures, four years on: how Ukrainian refugees are moving forward
Rebuilding futures, four years on: how Ukrainian refugees are moving forward
On 24 February 2022, life changed forever for the people of Ukraine. Within days, thousands of people were forced to flee their homes, seeking safety across borders and becoming refugees overnight.
Four years on, the consequences of Russia’s full-scale invasion are immense. More than 5 million Ukrainian refugees have been welcomed into countries and communities. Many have found work, have access to essential services and have managed to rebuild their daily routines. But most yearn for their homeland and hope that peace will bring the opportunity to safely return.
Eight refugees share their experience of displacement, overcoming trauma and the transformative power of being able to work and contribute in a meaningful way to their new countries.
“At first, I felt fear and despair - I cried for nearly two weeks. Then I decided to act and help my fellow Ukrainians.”
Olha found purpose in supporting refugees from Ukraine adapt and integrate in Bulgaria.
Olha is 48 years old and a co-founder of DreamHouse, a refugee-led organization in Sofia, Bulgaria.
“At first, I felt fear and despair - I cried for nearly two weeks. Then I decided to act and help my fellow Ukrainians. I volunteered for two weeks, and now, four years later, it’s my life’s work. Two years ago, Ukrainian refugee women and I founded DreamHouse Association to support women and children.”
“Resilience matters: keep living, growing, and supporting others.”
DreamHouse supports Ukrainian refugee families with mental health and psychosocial support, early childhood development assistance, and community-based activities.
With financial support from UNHCR, Dreamhouse plans to expand support for mothers and children, including speech therapy for young children, individual counselling sessions and workshops to strengthen Ukrainian women’s entrepreneurship and self-employment.
“We never thought a war would tear our lives apart, never thought it could happen to us. And when it did, these people were there helping and supporting us.”
Raisa Kharchenko, 67, is originally from Pokrovsk in eastern Ukraine where she was a kindergarten teacher. She is now a cleaner in Hungary.
“Even before the full-scale war in Ukraine, our family had already had a tragic loss. My daughter’s second son, Timofey died in a freak accident in 2016, at the age of six. The cemetery was also severely bombed. We do not even know if his little grave exists.
In Hungary, we found peace. People are very polite and kind-hearted. We still struggle, however, with learning the language. And our family used to have everything in Ukraine: our home, a country house, a car. Now, we have nothing, only what we have been given [by charity organizations]. All those people who have helped us in the past years, I cannot find the words to express my infinite gratitude to them.
Back in Ukraine, I was a kindergarten teacher. When we arrived, I soon realized that we had to survive. I work as a cleaner in an office building in the city of Eger. I clean the rooms, the corridors, the windows, the toilets, the parking area, I also wash cars, do everything.
When I think about Ukraine, I miss my friends and our life that we had before the war.”
Raisa Kharchenko lives in the city of Eger, eastern Hungary with her family.
“I miss not only Ukraine as a place, but the memory of my own life there.”
Svitlana Zaluzhna arrived in Lithuania in 2022 and established a social enterprise to support Ukrainian refugees become integrated into communities.
Svitlana Zaluzhna is 43 from Odessa in Ukraine. She founded the social enterprise “Open Nations” in Lithuania in 2023, which supports refugees from Ukraine and helps build bridges to Lithuanian society.
“My most vivid memories from the beginning of the full-scale invasion are fear, pain, shock, uncertainty, and a deep sense of injustice. For me, life was frozen.
From the very beginning, Lithuania welcomed Ukrainians with warmth, care, and respect. For years, the streets were filled with Ukrainian flags, and even today you can still see messages in public transport saying, “Lithuania loves Ukraine.” These are not just symbols; they shape how you feel as a person living here.
I founded a non-governmental organisation, I am professionally active, I grow, and my work gives me meaning. I am surrounded by both Ukrainian and Lithuanian communities, friends, and strong networks of support.
However, I am deeply aware that this is not the experience of everyone. I know thousands of stories where refugees struggle profoundly, often because of the loss of professional identity. Highly educated people with strong careers in Ukraine are forced to accept much lower social and professional positions, losing not only income but also status, networks, and a sense of self.
No one wants to see themselves, their children, or their grandchildren hungry, freezing, running for safety, and losing everything.
We all want to live a dignified and happy life.
“We are not asking only for understanding. We are asking for the opportunity to work, to stand on our own feet, and to contribute meaningfully to the society that welcomed us.”
Olena Reutova, 43, is originally from Mykolaïv, Ukraine. She now lives with her family in Moldova, working as a Social Worker.
“I left Mykolaiv on the 18 of March 2022, the city was isolated. My daughter was 11 years old. After a difficult travel, we arrived in Moldova, where we found psychological assistance and help. I wanted to stay close to Ukraine so I could go home soon. After a few months, in May 2022, I found a job in Moldova. Now I am a Social Worker with the organization Charity Centre for Refugees, my daughter is enrolled in school in Moldova. I feel I am doing something good for my community, and I am integrating in the country.
I miss my family, friends, and relatives. My community. Many people I love are still in Ukraine. Many others moved to different European countries, so it is difficult to see each other. The bigger pleasure for me would be to go home and be together again.
Thank you for your hospitality, for your support, and for giving us a sense of safety. For opening your communities to us, helping us adapt, and allowing us to build new experiences and real human connections—experiences that will remain in our memories and in our lives forever.
And remember: when someone is vulnerable—far from home, alone, or starting again— even just one word of kindness can change a life.
Olena, a refugee from Ukraine, works as a social worker with Charity Centre for Refugees in Moldova.
“My message? Talk to Ukrainians about what they feel and what they are going through. That way, you can better understand what is really happening.”
Oksana, a refugee from Ukraine, has dedicated her time in Poland to establishing a music school and business in Warsaw.
Oksana, 32, is a musician and holds a master’s degree from the Academy of Music in Kyiv. She co-founded the music school “Muzyka-Muzyka” in Warsaw, Poland.
I didn’t know the language when I arrived, and I immediately started learning it. First, I came to Kraków and wanted to find a job right away. I found an online ad saying they were looking for a caregiver for a nursery. That was my first job. Poles were very open, and it didn’t matter that I didn’t know the language.
Later, I found a grant from the Ashoka Foundation for migrants and refugees and I bought instruments: a piano, a guitar, and speakers. The foundation also provided me with a mentor, legal help, and various consultations.
I spent all of 2022 preparing to start my own business — I founded the company in January 2023. In the beginning, it’s very difficult because you don’t know the language or the law. At the same time, I was learning Polish. The hardest thing for me in life in Poland is understanding the law and taxes — I don’t fully understand them; it’s very difficult. It’s also hard to navigate the healthcare system.
There are many stereotypes that Poles are unfriendly, but in my case it was different — I am very grateful because I met many open and friendly people.
I miss my family and loved ones. But when it comes to more everyday things, I even miss Ukrainian food and coffee.
“For every refugee, it is essential to understand that life goes on. It is a difficult process and requires time, patience, and support.”
Liudmyla Dobrovolska, 68, is a University Professor from Odesa. She lives in Bucharest, Romania.
“Life changed overnight: I suddenly had no home, no relatives nearby, and no understanding of the language around me. Even simple tasks felt overwhelming, creating a deep sense of loss and depression.
In time, I realized life had not ended with the war. We were safe in Romania, but losing my job and my students in Odesa left me without purpose.
Therefore, hope returned when I began teaching English at the National Library. These lessons became moments of support, understanding, and healing for both my students and me.
Life became more meaningful as I connected with locals and fellow Ukrainians through NGO hubs and art sessions. Learning Romanian helped me feel less isolated and more confident in daily life. Psychological support also helped us overcome fear and rebuild strength.
From our first days in Romania, volunteers, NGOs, and authorities made life easier with essential help and psychological support. Learning Romanian has helped us integrate and feel understood.
I miss my peaceful life: days without alarms or shelters. I miss my work, my students, Odessa’s beauty, the Black Sea, and seeing my loved ones in person. I miss our theatres, museums, and streets filled with lilacs, acacias, and fruit trees. Most of all, I miss the smell of the sea.
I know I must keep living. Life did not end when we left Ukraine. I am still learning to move forward.
Liudmyla holds her teaching books inside the National Library in Bucharest, a place hosting many activities for the Ukrainian community.
“When people are forced to leave their homes, support from others makes a real difference. Any kind word matters. Any opportunity to work is a blessing.”
Hanna Chernyshova, originally from Kharkiv, points at a map of her work at the Slovenian Forestry Institute, where she currently works as a data analyst.
Hanna Chernyshova, 38, is from Kharkiv, Ukraine. A former Paediatrician, Hanna also gained a master’s degree in biology. She is now a Data Analyst at the Slovenian Forestry Institute.
“I moved to Slovenia three and a half years ago, and overall, I would say these have been good years. At this point, I feel relatively integrated into daily life: I work as a Data Analyst at the Slovenian Forestry Institute, I speak Slovenian, and I have friends and hobbies. It was not easy — often I felt exhausted and weak. But the sky cannot always be cloudy, and with time, there are more and more sunny days. Slovenia has proven to be both beautiful and, at times, challenging, but it has still exceeded my expectations. I believe it was a good choice.
I left Kharkiv two hours after the first bombs started falling, so I was fortunate to miss the worst part. But I still remember waking up to the sound of explosions. The situation there is much worse now, especially when Russia targets thermal and power plants while Ukraine is experiencing one of the coldest winters in the last 30 years. When temperatures stay at - 20°C for more than three weeks and there is neither electricity nor heating, simply surviving becomes a challenge.
We are smart, we learn quickly, and we are hard workers. When people are forced to leave their homes, support from others makes a real difference. Any kind word matters. Any opportunity to work is a blessing.
“Kindness goes beyond borders, labels, and differences.”
Galyna Daniel, 45, was forced to flee eastern Ukraine in 2014, and in 2022 she fled again, ending up in Skåne, in southern Sweden. Originally a career advisor, she now works as a Business Administrator and was selected to be a speaker with UNHCR’s Refugee Speakers Programme.
Growing up, I remember seeing refugees in the news, and while feeling sad and sorry for them, I could never imagine life would force me to become a refugee too. When the early signs of war started kicking off in my hometown Luhansk back in 2014, at first I couldn't believe that sudden nightmare was real.
Seeing tanks and hearing missiles made me take my kids and flee to a safer part of Ukraine. Soon I was building a new life in the Kyiv area, hoping we found our new home there. It lasted for 8 years, until our life was brutally disrupted in Feb 2022, this time due to the full-scale Russian invasion. More bombs. More aggression. More ruined lives.
I wasn't ready to leave everything again, to move again, to start it all over again at the age of 45. But we had no choice, and so we did. 48 hours on the go. Crossing six borders. I know we wouldn't make it if it wasn't for kind people. Those we met on the way, upon arrival to Sweden, and while learning to live here. People who supported me as a refugee, as a mother, and as a human. Not because it is their job, but because it's the right thing to do. And because none of us knows where we might end up tomorrow.
I still miss places, people and things I had to leave behind. Traditional meals I made didn't taste the same. But I tried new meals, discovered new places, and met new people. Volunteers all over Europe. Friends who welcomed me and my children in their house. Participants of the EU-sponsored programmes who made it easier for Ukrainians. Community members who treated me as equal. That is just to name a few. It is thanks to them I feel like home now, because kindness goes beyond borders, labels, and differences.
Galyna Daniel on stage speaking at the ‘Pass the Mic’ finale of UNHCR’s Refugee Speakers Programme in Stockholm.
“The refugee journey is never just about escaping danger. It's about rediscovering strength and self-determination. It's about transforming from someone who receives help to someone who shapes solutions.”
Kateryna works as a Refugee United Nations Volunteer for UNHCR in Slovakia.
Kateryna Vyshnevska, is originally from Kyiv and she fled to Slovakia in March 2022.
“My most vivid memories are the sound of shelling on the morning of 24 February 2022 and, later, on 7 March, the moment the decision to flee became unavoidable. The six kilometre walk that followed was a short distance on the map, but it felt like crossing an invisible line between the life I knew and a future I could not yet imagine. Even now, I can still feel the cold air, the silence between explosions, and the realization that I was leaving not just a place, but a version of myself.”
Kateryna became a Refugee United Nations Volunteer, an initiative that enables refugees to contribute meaningfully to humanitarian responses while gaining professional experience, building skills, and strengthening their integration into host communities.
“Being a refugee in Slovakia has meant rediscovering agency. It has meant learning that even far from home, one can still build, support, and belong. It also gave me the space to make decisions about my future. With the knowledge and experience I gained, I am now rebuilding my future in Ukraine.
This opportunity gave me more than a job. It gave me a sense of belonging. It allowed me to give back, and to feel strong again.
Slovak winters are milder, but inside, I missed the certainty of home, not the buildings or the geography, but the quiet confidence that tomorrow will unfold in a world you feel and know how to move through.
Solidarity means more than assistance. It helps refugees not only to survive but to rediscover dignity, purpose, and the ability to contribute to their new communities. When people flee with nothing but fear and uncertainty, the kindness of strangers becomes the first step toward rebuilding oneself.”
