The NZ Herald is joining forces with World Vision to help as more than two million Ukrainian women and children flee their country in the world's fastest-growing humanitarian emergency since the Second World War. World Vision Emergency Communications specialist Brianna Piazza reports on the refugee exodus from the Ukraine-Romania border. Today she speaks to mother and son Irina and Symon, who had to leave Irina's elderly mother in their basement as they fled the bombs and rockets that rained down on their hometown near Kyiv.
I met Irina inside one of the tents where refugees were taking shelter from the cold outside.
When we asked if anyone spoke English and would like to talk to us, she instantly put her hand up.
Her bright red hair stood out as she walked through the crowd in the noisy tent towards us to let us know that she spoke English.
She greeted us with a warm smile and asked how she could help us… a refugee who has just fled her country, asking us if she could help.
The thing that touched me most about her son, Symon, was that he seemed so emotionally mature for his age.
He was old enough to understand the consequences of conflict and how it would affect the rest of his life.
He thought the world of his mother for getting them out of Ukraine, and was very matter of fact when he said he wanted to focus on starting a new life somewhere else, not go back to Ukraine to live.
This is how they told me their stories.
The 24th of February 2022 is the day that my life ended. We woke to the sounds of sirens blaring and shooting getting closer and closer. To be woken in the dead of the night in such a way is utterly terrifying, it's like being in a nightmare.
As the first rockets fell, we left our house, risking our lives, to bring my elderly mother to us. Risking our lives to save hers was an easy decision, she is my beloved mother.
She lived in an apartment block, with nowhere to shelter, while we were fortunate to have a basement with enough room for us all. A few days later her building was hit, her house destroyed. If we had not gone to get her…I can't bear the thought.
For three long days and nights, rockets rained down on us. We lost all sense of time and normality with the minutes, hours and days blending into one. It was like one never-ending awful day, hidden in darkness not knowing when day turned to night.
All we knew was the constant sound of gunfire and rockets. We huddled underground not knowing what would happen next, or what we should do next. Each sound paralysing me further.
A few days after the fighting began, my son Symon became very sick. His temperature spiked and I knew I needed to get him to hospital. We had no choice but to leave our basement again and try to make it safely to the hospital.
As gunfire rang through our ears, we drove through our already ruined
city, desperate for urgent medical help.
Our town, Chernigov (also spelt Chernihiv), is not far from the border of Russia and Belarus and is on a key transport route to Kyiv, the capital. That placed us in the direct line of fire. Before the conflict started, it was a gorgeous ancient city with a meandering river running through it, wide open green spaces and parks, cobbled town squares, and ornate architectural churches, some as old as 1000 years old.
Now they have been reduced to a mess of rubble, bullet holes and the city's once lively atmosphere has been replaced with an air of fear and desperation.
The peaceful cinema that I visited time and time again in my childhood for birthdays and holidays is now just a pile of old rubble.
These buildings are gone and with them the communities, friendships and memories that we've built over generations.
Satellite images show destruction to the Epicentr K shopping centre in Chernihiv
When we arrived at the hospital, the doctors worried Symon may have meningitis and said he needed to stay there to have intravenous antibiotics for a week.
From his hospital bed you could hear rockets and gunshots ricocheting throughout the city.
I knew we would have to make our escape sooner rather than later. We were so scared and so desperate to leave, but we couldn't until Symon was out of hospital.
It didn't take long for wounded children to be bought into the hospital in the beds next to Symon's.
These innocent children were bearing the scars of a conflict they have no part in – they were callously shot in and around their own homes. What was their crime? What did they do to deserve this?
Your urgent donation will provide vital essentials for children & families affected by the crisis in Ukraine. Please click here to donate now at worldvision.org.nz
On the last night Symon was in hospital the bombs started dropping from the sky.
The overnight air attacks were much more terrifying than the rockets and the tanks encroaching on us, and we knew it was time to get out. The risk of dying on the road out became less frightening than staying under the barrage of bombs being dropped on us.
As soon as Symon was released from hospital, we made the long journey to Romania, travelling with three other families, including ten children.
We had to leave my mother behind, she was too frail for the dangerous trip. And so she is still sheltering in our basement, as the tanks get closer and the bombs continue to fall.
My heart is broken. My husband is going back to get her now and will try
to bring her to safety. I only hope that he can. I don't know when we will see them again.
My name is Symon, I'm 17 years old.
I have just been through something that I don't wish upon anyone.
We have left our home. We have left our pets. We even had to leave our grandmother; she simply couldn't make it through the frontline.
But we couldn't stay. Our city is close to Russia and Belarus and we have had some of the heaviest fighting in Ukraine.
The moment it started, there was a constant stream of shooting. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I was terrified.
There were sirens going off constantly. It was like this for over a week, it was hell.
And then the air bombing started. I just couldn't cope.
We were lucky to make it to Kyiv and find a dormitory where we could stay for the night.
The next morning we got up quickly and went to the next town, making our way closer towards the Romanian border.
They fed us, gave us water, a room for the night before we got up and ran again. We were
on the road for three nights before we made it across the border.
And we made it just in the nick of time. We went over the bridge in the last moments; right after us, it was closed. But we arrived, thank God.
The journey here was very hard. It was freezing, with snow falling constantly. There were lots of roadblocks at bridges and they were checking our documents constantly.
It felt like being on the run, like we were under constant threat, always looking over our shoulders. We were literally running for our lives.
I've arrived in Romania with a change of clothes, some food and that's all. I don't have a single memento or precious belonging with me, except my mother.
I want to thank her. She's such an incredible woman and I couldn't have survived without her strength and love. She's been through things that men haven't even been through.
I pray she'll never have to experience the stress she's felt this week ever again.
Most of my friends are still in Ukraine. I don't want to ever go back. The memories I have of that place have been ruined, it's hard, it's too hard.
Now I just want to start a new life. I want to forget my old life and everything that's happened.
May God not let this ever happen again.
Ukraine Crisis Appeal: Where your money goes
Your support will help children and families affected by the crisis in Ukraine with
• Food and hygiene kits
• Child-friendly spaces and shelter
• Psychosocial support to help kids cope with trauma
Your urgent donation will provide vital essentials for children & families affected by the crisis in Ukraine. Please click here to donate now at worldvision.org.nz
Protesters tore flags, including those representing Islam and the UN.