The night the bombing began, Kristina Vynnyk tried to explain to her six-year-old daughter Zlata what the thuds were coming from Kyiv’s Hostomel Airport near their home.
“I told her there was some bad guy outside and he was scattering bad things,” she said.
That night, Kristina put pillows in the bath tub where they slept. By morning, she said she knew she had to flee Russia’s invasion. Packing bags, Zlata thought they were going on holiday.
Seven days later, Vynnyk is on Dollymount Strand in Dublin, reflecting on a six-day journey from her home in Ukraine. Her daughter plays in the sand with her Irish-Ukrainian cousin Ronan.
“I don’t want to be a refugee anywhere,” said Vynnyk, heartbroken at having to leave behind her husband at a Ukrainian border crossing with Moldova and to flee her country.
“We are Ukrainians. We are so independent. For us, it is important. We like freedom.”
The 30-year-old Ukrainian woman said she burst into tears when she said goodbye to her husband Oleksandr at the border. He struggled to stay strong saying goodbye to Zlata.
“I had never seen my husband cry,” she said.
She has declined an application for asylum in Ireland in the hope they can reunite in Ukraine soon: “If he survives, I will do whatever it takes to be together.”
Vynnyk is one of a million refugees who have fled Ukraine in the week since Russia’s invasion began on February 24th, according to the UN’s refugee agency.
She flew into Ireland from Romania on Wednesday night after initially crossing into neighbouring Moldova from Ukraine at the crossing at Mohyliv-Podilskyi last Sunday. She has travelled here to stay with her brother and sister-in-law who has lived in Dublin for more than 20 years.
The Government is expecting thousands of refugees from Ukraine to come to Ireland, possibly as many as 20,000. Many, like Vynnyk, will be joining family already living in the State.
“It is really perfect here, really calm - and the people are so cool here - but again, it is about our independence,” said Kristina.
She is shocked that her comfortable life in Ukraine has been upended in just one week.
“You look at life and see how only a few days can change your life so much,” she said.
On her journey from their home in Irpin near Kyiv, Vynnyk and her daughter stayed a night in Uzyn, south of the Ukrainian capital but moved on when she saw Russia’s bombs closing in.
She tried to persuade friends, who had children too, to leave but they refused.
“My friend said: ‘No, I will not move because I want to stay with my husband,’” she said.
“I said: ‘I know; I also don’t want to leave my husband. I want to be together. We are family. We are united. But it’s a question of your life.’”
In the rush of queueing refugees crossing the border, Kristina said she had little time to say goodbye to her husband with the authorities shouting at her to move through quickly.
“It was awful really. I didn’t even have enough time to do that,” she said.
Now safe in Dublin, the translator and language teacher feels conflicted.
“On the one hand, I am alive and my daughter is alive, and that was the purpose why we came here,” she said.
“But on the other hand, I realise my whole life is there and the most important thing.”
