Sitting opposite each other in a clean, quiet meeting room in the University’s Engineering Faculty, we seem a world away from any form of conflict. But, it is this separation that is one of the hardest parts, I’m told by Viktoriia, Sofiia, and Diana, three Ukrainian students here who are also committee members for Cambridge University’s Ukrainian Society.

For all three, the war with Russia has shaped their entire lives. Sisters Sofiia and Diana were born in eastern Ukraine, where fighting began in 2014. They left their home eleven years ago. At just nine years old, they remember playing outside when “someone would start shooting just over our head, and we would see our mother hysterically shouting.” Incomparable to typical playtime experiences, these experiences “still haunt us.” “We left all our friends, our school, our beloved teachers and we started from scratch," they recount. "You pack your whole life in one suitcase. Childhood ended for us at nine.”

“A lot of us deal with survivors’ guilt while our friends and family are in Ukraine, and their lives are in danger every single day”

Now in Cambridge, safe from the fighting but separated from family members and their homes, Diana described how “it’s two different universes” with completely “different concerns.” While in Ukraine, she is focused solely on the survival of her and her family, but when she returns to Cambridge, she is faced with an “abundance of experiences and you can really live life.” Going between these two worlds, “it’s very difficult to see how they can coexist at the same time.”

Because of this, Viktoriia shared “feeling invisible in my struggle” in a place where very few can empathise with her experiences. “A lot of us deal with survivors’ guilt while our friends and family are in Ukraine, and their lives are in danger every single day.”

Sofiia added how it often feels impossible to truly share emotions and experiences. Those asking the classic British small talk questions “how are you?” and “how was your Christmas?” aren’t really expecting the answer that she spent her Christmas “hiding in a bomb shelter” in Kyiv. “I wasn’t having a nice meal, I wasn’t singing Christmas songs, I wasn’t laughing with my friends. I was hiding from the bombs.” She adds: “I’m not sure that people who ask me those questions really understand what they’re asking me. I think we all wish there was a bit more sensitivity.”

Viktoriia agreed, recalling that “the first memory of 2025 for me was the sound of a Russian drone flying over my grandmother’s apartment block in Kyiv. This will stick with me until the day I die. What every one of us experiences in that moment, the animal fear for yourself and your loved ones, is indescribable.”

As we enter the third year of Russia’s full-scale invasion and the suffering of Ukrainians continues, Viktoriia described how “it’s been difficult to wrap my head around how there’s not appropriate response from other countries and world leaders who can make a change.” As we enter 2025, Russia is intensifying the advances in the eastern regions of Ukraine. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky has repeatedly urged international leaders to aid his country, and earlier this month Sir Keir Starmer visited Ukraine to sign a 100-year pact with the nation.

But it is not just world leaders that Sofiia, Diana and Viktoriia look to for help. They implore students to assist in any way they can, whether through sharing information, creating active spaces for discussion or donating “the amount of one cup of coffee” to organisations such as United24. Even just “wearing something blue and yellow or giving a thumbs up to us when we’re standing at the protest has a huge positive impact.”

“I wasn’t having a nice meal, I wasn’t singing Christmas songs, I wasn’t laughing with my friends. I was hiding from the bombs”

Sofiia also emphasised the importance of using appropriate vocabulary for the war. “I don’t want to see Ukrainian ‘crisis’, I don’t want to see ‘conflict’. Crisis can be humanitarian; crisis can be ecological. This is when a country is invading another sovereign country. I want to see it being written ‘full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine’, because this is what it is.”

Cambridge4Ukraine, a volunteer group created by Ukrainians living in Cambridge, holds regular vigils and protests in the city, often on King’s Parade, to remind students and the public of the ongoing suffering in Ukraine. Diana is active in these protests, along with other members of Cambridge University Ukrainian Society. “Judging by the number of non-Ukrainian people who participate in the protests, we definitely can notice that public attention has shifted to other conflicts. It’s not that students have lost support for Ukraine, there’s just not as much attention from them as there was in the beginning.”

Like the city group, the Ukrainian society was created to “unite the Ukrainian student community in the university and provide space for us to come together. But we are also very much interested in promoting Ukrainian culture, traditions and language to our international friends. And of course, we want to keep raising awareness about the war and gain more support for Ukraine.” All students are welcome at their upcoming events.

This sense of community has been vitally important for supporting each other over the past three years. Although “every day brings its particular challenges and uncertainties”, all three were inspiring in their continued hope for their future and the future of Ukraine. “The thing that keeps everyone going from day to day is hope and optimism. What distinguishes Ukrainians is our sense of humour. It raises morale even in such dark times.”