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‘It was a beautiful country’: Ukrainian mother and son find safety in the Goulburn Valley
It was the first time Maryna cried since the war in Ukraine began.
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March 1 was her son Vlad’s 15th birthday, but there were no balloons or singing as they sheltered from the Russian missiles raining down on their beloved home city of Kyiv.
“I hugged my son, congratulated him on his birthday and burst into tears,” she said.
The next morning, Maryna left the bomb shelter and went to find a cake for her son.
It took running around to a few supermarkets but her perseverance paid off and Vlad got his cake.
Maryna spoke to Anna McGuinness about fleeing Ukraine and finding safety in the Goulburn Valley.
Sitting at the kitchen table in the Kialla home of her sister Anastasia and brother-in-law Daniel, watching sheep roam the farmland outside the window, Maryna Sliusar is a fish out of water.
Speaking in Russian with Anastasia translating to English, Maryna describes the fear and shock they felt in that last week of February in Ukraine.
“Even though there were rumours, no-one could believe that it could happen,” she said.
“On Wednesday it was so quiet and then on Thursday morning (February 24) a friend messaged to warn me that it had started.
“No-one knows what to do. Everyone was lost. Should I go to work? Should I stay home?”
The day before had been like any other; Maryna had gone to work — she was the head of the Department of Workplace Health and Safety — while Vlad was at school.
They had plans for the future.
But living about 20km from a target of Russian bombs, Boryspil International Airport, there was now no denying what was happening.
Before dawn on February 24, Russian President Vladimir Putin declared war in a televised address, saying his country would “strive for the demilitarisation and de-Nazification of Ukraine”.
Soon after, missiles fell and there were reports of troops and armour crossing the borders in droves from Russia and Belarus.
The UN Refugee Agency estimated 100,000 Ukrainians fled their homes that day, with thousands moving into neighbouring countries.
From February 25 until they left the city on March 6, Maryna and Vlad went to a bomb shelter on the site of an unused factory every evening.
There was no light or heat and it was dirty and damp.
People installed lighting, brought in heaters and cleaned, sleeping on the floor on mattresses they brought from home.
Out on the streets, Maryna described empty supermarket shelves and long queues stretching at ATMs.
Day by day, the situation worsened and Maryna began to realise they had to leave.
They planned to go to the safest place in Ukraine at the time, more than 500km away to Lviv in western Ukraine.
Special train services were running between the two large cities to help the hordes of people fleeing to safety.
But getting to the central train station proved difficult with the city in “disarray”; there was no public transport and the subway wasn’t running.
In the end Maryna’s neighbour, whose husband worked in the military, arranged to get them there.
With only the belongings that could fit in a backpack each, they left their home behind and saw Kyiv for the last time.
“It was just empty,” Maryna said.
At the station they were among thousands of others trying to flee — children, women, people with disability and the elderly.
“It was very hard to get on a train,” Maryna said, and when they did, they were “squished in like sardines”.
Dogs and cats joined the journey — pets whose owners couldn’t bear to leave them behind — and they travelled in complete darkness.
In Lviv, they were met by volunteers who provided shelter, hot food and a place to sleep.
Maryna tried to find a more permanent place to stay but rental prices had skyrocketed — “people had taken advantage” — and after a few days they were asked if they wanted to leave the country.
Maryna said she didn’t want to leave Ukraine — didn’t want to leave her job, friends and their life.
But she had a friend in Poland who encouraged them to go.
They spent 12 hours on a bus at the Ukraine-Poland border. They were the lucky ones — many had travelled on foot.
“It was awful to see all those people because it was so cold,” Maryna said.
They were in Poland for two months before they arrived in Australia on May 17, thanks to a lot of luck and a lot of support from Anastasia and Daniel.
Maryna and Anastasia’s parents remain in south-eastern Ukraine, in a city near the front line called Zaporizhzhia.
Every time they see the city in the news they are frantic to make sure their parents are okay.
The sisters laugh as they recount how their mother reacts.
“Mum is like, ‘where? I don’t know? Nothing happened!’,” Anastasia said.
In Shepparton, Maryna has been going to TAFE and Vlad to the English Learning Centre before he returns to school.
“It’s unusual for them because they lived in a city their whole life with big tall buildings; here, especially where we live, it’s like a village,” Anastasia said.
Vlad said people in Shepparton were very nice and much friendlier, and Maryna agreed, saying everyone was eager to help them.
Vlad played soccer for six years in Ukraine and sees a future in it.
“He’s really good,” Anastasia said.
“It would be nice to find a team here for him.”
Maryna and Vlad have been granted a visa for three years in Australia but the future beyond that is uncertain.
Vlad can finish school in Australia before deciding what to do next, while Maryna hopes she might be able to make the transition with her work here.
Does she want to return home?
“Obviously if the war was going to end, but then there is almost nothing left in Ukraine,” Maryna said.
“They would probably need another 10 years to rebuild.
“It was a beautiful country.”