Artur Filonenko wiggles his fingers, looking nervous. Floating in his long red coat, he stands next to a small pile of luggage ready to be transported. Twenty beds are arranged around him, in the room where the 16-year-old teenager is: a charming theater dating from the beginning of the 20th century.and century which, in recent days, has been converted into an improvised dormitory.
It is therefore in the Ukrainian House of Przemyśl, a Polish town located fifteen kilometers from the border with Ukraine, that he spent the night from Sunday to Monday, in the company of his mother and his little sister. The cultural center was set up to accommodate exiles fleeing war-torn Ukraine, such as Artur. On Saturday, February 26, the young man left his city, Volyn, in the north-west of Ukraine, which is in the grip of Russian bombardments. Since Vladimir Putin ordered his troops to invade Ukraine on Thursday February 24, more than 400,000 Ukrainians have found refuge in Poland.
“On the second day of the war, the airport near our home was bombed,” says Artur Filonenko, his voice shaky. “The sirens sounded, we had to hide in the bomb shelters. We stayed there for nine hours. We then called our uncle, who told us to come and join him in Warsaw, where he lives, and we fled. In the train crowded with children and women, Artur had to spend the entire journey standing. “And when we got to the Polish border, we waited another twelve hours. I’m exhausted. »
Monday afternoon, Artur, his mother and his sister were getting ready to hit the road again, this time to the Polish capital. And who knows for how long. “I hope to return to Ukraine one day, to see my father, who joined the territorial troops. My mother is very nervous. Many of my friends have also gone into exile. I’m mad at the politicians in Moscow, not at the Russians. I hope this war will end soon, that life will return to normal. »
A few beds further, Olga Yanishevska is also recovering from her rail journey. “My stomach hurts from the prolonged lack of sleep,” says the 30-year-old mother. A few hours earlier, she arrived at Przemyśl station, converted into an emergency accommodation center for hundreds of refugees. “If the Ukrainians don’t win this war, it could end badly for everyone. Putin is very angry, and if he loses this war, he will kill. Myself, I served voluntarily in the army before. If it weren’t for my children and my failing health, I would have gone to fight alongside our soldiers. »
On the mattress next door, her 12-year-old daughter Maria taps away on her phone. “Ukraine is where we were born. I am very sad to have had to leave my country, ”she breathes. “And I don’t know the language here in Poland. It was not pleasant to leave my city, my friends and my family, even though I am safe here. »
A few streets away, a reception center for refugees has also opened, in the gymnasium of a primary school in Przemyśl. Sitting on their mattress, Ivanna Tkatchiova, 42, and her daughter Viktoria, 14, are talking. Both are preparing to say goodbye: Ivanna will soon return to Ukraine, Viktoria will stay away from the fighting, in Poland. “I understand that families are leaving the country, of course. But if there are no more Ukrainians, there is no more Ukraine. Some people have to stay in the country and defend it,” says Ivanna, who wanted to travel to Poland with her daughter to make sure she gets to her destination, before turning back to Ukraine. “My decision was made from the start: I would be ready to commit myself as a volunteer to help those who are fighting or to treat them. I am terrified, because Russian forces are bombing not only military bases, but also hospitals. And then, I miss our big house not far from Lviv terribly,” she admits.
A few minutes later, mother and daughter will get up, in tears. And will embrace.
The uncertainty of the exiles
Further in the gymnasium, Olena Kchuolchenko, 29, arrived on Polish soil on Sunday by taking a train from Lviv to Przemyśl. Like many women who took refuge outside the country, her husband was called upon to take up arms, conscription required. She faces a deeply uncertain future. “I hardly know anyone here. I would like to get refugee status to begin with, then I will start looking for a job. I plan to go to Germany, but if that doesn’t work out, I want to stay in Poland or the Czech Republic. But what is certain is that I want to return to Ukraine after the war. »
About thirty kilometers north of Przemyśl, the imposing logistics center of Korczowa, which accommodates 2,000 people, is part of the temporary accommodation camps established on February 24 by the Polish authorities. In a corner of the hangar, Natalia Vorona and Diana Braslavska-Piasetska breathe a sigh of relief. The two friends working in the IT sector arrived in Poland after spending four days in a traffic jam on the Ukrainian side, towards the nearest border post. “Every day we call our relatives back in Ukraine. My father is very happy because Russia did not expect Europe to support us so much with all these sanctions imposed against Moscow. My husband stayed in the country to fight, and my mother, a pharmacist, stayed to help,” says Diana, who plans to rent an apartment in the Czech Republic for an indefinite period.
Natalia, she is more optimistic. “I don’t want to stray too far from Ukraine, because I think this conflict will end soon, in a few days. I’m sure our army will prevail. »