Journalist Viktoriya Kaidash: “I Was Prepared to be Interrogated”

She survived the occupation, went through filtration camps with her son, and breathed the air of freedom in Lviv, but finally realized that she was safe only in Kosovo. The story of journalist Viktoriya Kaidash from the online publication Troitske.city – exclusively for the NUJU.

On February 23, journalist Viktoriya Kaidash visited her son in Severodonetsk, Luhansk Oblast. The following day, she intended to spend quality time with her family despite the unsettling news. It marked a rare break for her. As the evening unfolded, she stepped outside to breathe in fresh air. Little did she know, that night marked the end of tranquility for the city and the entire country.

— The shelling began. It was dreadful. People were standing by ATMs, withdrawing money. The lines were incredibly long – I had never seen anything like it before. On that day, the military commissariat in Severodonetsk was hit. Chaos reigned. People didn’t know what to do or how to proceed. Everyone could only rely on themselves,— the journalist recalls the first day of the war.

Life under occupation. Different Reality.

Viktoriya and her son returned to Troitske, but within a few days, the city was under occupation.

— The feeling was like being trapped,— says Viktoriya. — Working became impossible, expressing your thoughts openly was impossible, and living a normal life was impossible. There was no internet for a long time, no phone communication. A complete feeling of being cut off from life, deprived of it. We were in a kind of different reality that we couldn’t grasp or accept. I understood that any day people with guns could come for me. Yes, I was prepared for the possibility that they would come for me and take me in for interrogation.

The Path to Freedom

Leaving the occupation was possible, but only through Russian territory. Despite the danger, the journalist chose to leave. This decision entailed navigating filtration camps, where she and her son faced the risk of disappearing without a trace.

— The Russian occupiers set up a filtration point at the border. There was a risk of disappearing without a trace. They turned some people away without explanation. Filtration was a check conducted by FSB [Russian Federal Security Service] agents at the border. Anyone they didn’t like, they took in for questioning. For many hours. They checked everything. My son was taken for such an ‘interview.’ They held him for five hours. They asked if any of our relatives were in the Armed Forces of Ukraine, what his attitude towards it was – provocative questions related to Ukraine and such,— Viktoriya recalls with horror.

But she was fortunate enough to leave occupied Luhansk Oblast, travel through Russia, and finally cross the long-awaited border into Latvia.

— The Russians understood that we were leaving their territory and tried to pressure us in every possible way psychologically. They kept us in the sun for a long time, withheld our documents, and offered no explanations. People stood there anxiously, waiting to be released from the country. And when we finally crossed the border and realized we were in the Baltics, we finally ‘exhaled.’ We were warmly received there, and documents were processed quickly, they offered assistance and explained where to go next, where to stop for the night, and how to reach the city. They treated Ukrainians very kindly and helped everyone,— the Luhansk journalist draws parallels.

Having covered a considerable distance, Viktoriya arrived in Ukraine – in Lviv. Colleagues from the Center for Journalistic Solidarity of the NUJU helped her settle.

— They found a place for me in the center for journalists for TV workers. I lived there with colleagues for some time. It was very convenient, and I’m very grateful for the support. We worked in the same room. There was equipment, and there were people of the same profession nearby, I would say, ‘of the same blood.’ We had many common topics to discuss, and we found it interesting to be together,— says our interlocutor.

Viktoriya discovered a chance to work and study in Kosovo through the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine. After submitting her documents, she waited for a response. A month later, her application was accepted, and she relocated to Kosovo’s capital, Pristina, during the summer.

— Kosovars themselves went through war 23 years ago, so they understand what it’s like. You can feel it in their attitude towards Ukrainians at all levels: from government officials to ordinary people. If they hear that you’re from Ukraine and have found refuge there, they’re ready to help in any way they can. Some with kind words, some by solving a problem. Everyone treats us kindly and with understanding,— shares the journalist, who only realized she was finally safe after moving to Kosovo.

— I understand that the war will end. We will definitely win. At that time, we’ll have many unresolved issues. Many people will return: those from abroad, those from the war. There will be a lot of work and many questions that need to be addressed. That’s why I want to write about the experiences of people who have already been through something similar. We can learn from Kosovars how to build a new life in our country after the war, work in new conditions, adapt our worldview to realities, and move forward,— Viktoriya says.

This series, titled Executed Free Speech, is created as part of a project Drawing Ukrainian And International Audience’s Attention To Serious Violations Of Human Rights And Crimes Against Journalists And Mass Media By The Russian Federation,  which is performed by the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine, with support from the Swedish non-profit organization Civil Rights Defenders.

JOURNALISTS ARE IMPORTANT. Stories of Life and Work in Conditions of War is a cycle of materials prepared by the team of the NUJU with the support of the Swedish human rights organization Civil Rights Defenders.

 #CRD