I was fifteen or sixteen — that age when everything inside sounds too sharp, and every word from an adult feels hostile. My father and I argued until his voice rose into a threatening shout, on the verge of turning into a fight. In that moment, our apartment once again stopped being a safe place for me. Staying meant admitting defeat, fear, dependence. Slamming the door loudly, as if to underline my protest, I simply left.

The connection between war and cancer is quite obvious. However, there are currently no statistics that show the impact of war on the number of cancer cases. It is virtually impossible to gather such data because millions of people have left Ukraine, and many in the occupied territories are inaccessible.

I am Antonina Tymchenko, a writer from Ukraine. I'm a member of the National Writers’ Union of Ukraine, a Ph.D. and Associate Professor of Ukrainian Language and Literature; also an editor, tutor, and author of seven books of poetry, several children’s books and numerous articles. I am a laureate of the International Non-State Ukrainian-German Literary Prize named after Oles Honchar as well as recipient of many other Ukrainian literary awards.

I want to write sincerely and simply. Without any pathos or grandiose words about heroism and saving the world. My story is not one of extraordinary achievements, but of an ordinary person who strives to be needed and useful to his family, relatives, society, and Ukraine.

Back then, at the start of the full-scale invasion, we showed the enemy that Ukrainians are united and strong in their rage. I took action and became a volunteer. We made anti-tank ”hedgehogs,” built stoves, poured Molotov cocktails, and delivered aid to the cities that were taking the first hits. 

Sooner or later, there comes a moment in your life that can change practically everything. That's exactly what happened to me recently. To fully understand, let's rewind a little.

I always think about them
The military, those at the front

I am lost

There is no hope and no love