Ukraine war widow from Bucha joins Stamford aid convoy to help her homeland
Two years ago, Olena Popova lived a normal life.
A research analyst, Olena ran a marketing business and lived peacefully with husband Konstantin and young daughter Liuba.
Back then, her hometown, near Kyiv, would have been familiar to very few here in the UK.
Yet within days of Russia’s invasion in February last year, Bucha became known throughout the world, and Olena’s life had changed forever.
The name Bucha became synonymous with Russian brutality, a place where more than 1,000 people would be killed within a month of occupation.
“Life for us will never be normal again,” said Olena.
“Before the war when I thought that someone could die you would do everything to protect this person and to avoid this danger. But after the war started you just accept that some of us can die.”
Having sent Liuba to grandparents, Olena and Konstantin remained when the Russians arrived.
Olena was allowed to leave for a safer part of Ukraine, but her husband of 18 years, Konstantin, would join the horrifying casualty list.
A 50-year-old husband and father killed trying to defend his home.
“He wanted to help with defence and to protect the town, but he was killed on the way,” Olena said.
“I didn’t know anything about this until I began to look for him.”
After weeks of internet searches and calls to her hometown, Olena discovered her husband’s fate when she returned home after Bucha’s liberation.
“After that I left Ukraine.”
With the help of a friend in London she began her search for a sponsor to come to the UK and find refuge from the chaos.
Deeply traumatised and grieving, Olena did not care where her new temporary home would be, but there was one stipulation.
“My one wish was that I could be alone – I wanted to be in a corner by myself,” she said.
“I was not well in that period and it would have been difficult for me to communicate with other people.”
Within two weeks, in June 2022, Olena arrived in Ketton where she still lives with her daughter.
Carrying the unimaginable shock of what had been left behind, she was stunned by the welcome she received.
“Our amazing host family, Caroline and Justin, prepared for our meeting and printed welcome notes, translated through Google into Ukrainian, and spread them all over the room,” she recalled.
“We stumbled upon these notes all week. They also printed photos of my family and put them in frames. I cried.”
Olena has been deeply moved at the wider community’s response.
She attended weekly English language lessons at Stamford Methodist Church, run by volunteers, and joined a Ukrainian choir set up by Michael Tymochko, a British musician with Ukrainian roots.
For the last year, rehearsals and performances have given the refugees a vital link to their culture.
“He not only surrounded us with his music and kindness but also gave us a sense of an unbroken connection with Ukraine and its soul,” she said.
“This turned out to be very important for all of us.”
Olena and Liuba were further drawn into the community through activities and groups co-ordinated and promoted by Yvette Diaz-Munoz and Amanda Wheeler.
“There were many projects for Ukrainians, many projects for our children,” she said.
“Yvette and Amanda had amazing ideas that our children really appreciated. Thanks to them, we sort of came alive, thawed out, and learned to enjoy life again.”
It has reinforced in Olena a newfound respect and deep admiration for the British.
“For me and, I believe, many other Ukrainians, it has been very important that we not only received housing and financial support, but also became part of a very warm and supportive community,” she said.
“It is an example of true humanity, which Ukrainians know because they have seen a lot of inhumanity.
“I came here feeling downcast and unable to experience any emotions. My first emotion that I felt here was admiration for the British people surrounding me.”
Olena found work as a kitchen assistant at Tixover Care Home – a far cry from her successful career back home, but she enjoys her workplace and is keen to contribute ad be busy.
While piecing together a ‘temporary’ life hundreds of miles from home, she also searched for ways she could help her compatriots.
Through co-ordinator Fiona Parker, she joined a group of Ukrainian women sewing stretchers for wounded troops.
The stretchers are delivered overseas and then distributed by Jack Bon Holly, a Stamford volunteer for Project Konstantin who has spent months at the frontline helping troops and civilians.
“I cannot fully describe all the assistance provided by Project Konstantin here, but it is immense,” she said.
Olena is now hitting the road for another mission.
She has joined a band of volunteer drivers in a convoy organised by the Helping Our Ukrainian Friends group, run by Richard Astle.
Setting off from Helpston on Thursday, three vans chocked full of aid for Ukraine are being driven to Poland, along with two ambulances, donated to Ukrainian troops.
“I’m so impressed by them,” she said.
“The 20 volunteers in Richard’s team have a comfortable way of life, they do not need to help us.
“I’m so incredibly happy to have the opportunity to see the entire process and participate in it.”
She added: “It’s not emotional really, it is a duty and I understand that I must do this.
“All of us now do what we can for the army and other people in Ukraine. We help each other much more now than before the war. People understand it’s vital.”
Olena’s three-year visa expires in 2025.
There are, of course, no guarantees that this war of attrition will have ended and peace returned to Ukraine by then.
And while there is safety here and friendship, it is not home.
Life for Olena is forever changed and put on hold.
Annual summer trips back home to meet family and friends provide glimpses of what was left behind.
“It is a fantastic country and I’m very excited to be here, but this is another country – it isn’t mine,” she said.
“It seems like a long holiday – this is not my life. I do not live my life now.”
Olena and her fellow refugees in Stamford and Rutland do not have the luxury of planning for the long-term, certainly when it comes to returning home.
“This is a very difficult question – it’s easier for all of us not to make a final decision about it,” she explained.
“We live in one day. We plan for today, we plan for the next day, but not for the future.”
Two years from now, 2025 will also be a milestone for Liuba, the year of GCSE exams.
It offers a rare and priceless chink of normality; hope for the future.
“Now we live for our children, they are more adaptable,” Olena said.
“If my daughter wanted to stay here, I will try to do that, but at the moment she wants to return.
“Now I can’t return to my house it is quite hard for me. After two years maybe it will be easier. I will see.”
