Comfort food: Sergei Nikitin meets Ukrainian neighbours

‘As a Russian, I feel awkward.’

They had to flee. They had to leave the ancient city of Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine, because of Russian military aggression – because of the shelling and sirens calling people to hide themselves underground.

One mother and two children went to Western Ukraine, where it was safer. Their father stayed in Kyiv. With the Homes for Ukraine scheme the mother and children eventually made it to green and hilly Derbyshire, where they were welcomed by an English sponsor family. It was quiet and peaceful, but their thoughts were in Kyiv, where their husband and dad remained. The two Ukrainian children went to a local school; the mother learned English and enjoyed local hospitality.

As a Russian, I feel awkward. My country is responsible for unjustified cruelty towards a neighbouring nation. I felt partly responsible for that, too: as a human rights defender I did not do enough to prevent it. There are many people in Russia now who, being poisoned by propaganda, support the war. But there are others who bravely speak out against the aggression.

I wanted to say to my new neighbours that Russians do care about Ukrainian people, and I want to believe that there are more good and peaceful Russians than those poisoned by the insane actions of the politician sitting in the Kremlin.

I cooked traditional Ukrainian beetroot soup called borscht, and I baked a cabbage pie, which I decorated with the Ukrainian state symbol. We invited our dear Ukrainian neighbours, and they gladly accepted our invitation. They came over to our place and brought the famous Ukrainian pampushki (wheat rolls with garlic and dill flavour) and pirozhki (pastries filled with meat).

It was a heartbreaking experience to hear their stories: ‘We had such a wonderful life back there. We had a prosperous small business, we lived in a good apartment and we were going to buy another one. The kids were growing. And then everything changed at the end of February. The family had to be divided, and my parents are under the Russian occupation now.’

It was a nice meeting over the borscht, pies, cakes and tea. After the meal we went to see the local beauties: llamas living at somebody’s farm, alongside sheep, and geese. We walked along the canal speaking Russian, enjoying peace and friendship.

We will have more meals with our new Ukrainian friends, and we will have more walks around. We hope that peace will come to Ukraine before too long and we’ll wave goodbye to our new friends promising to come to Kyiv and to eat the famous Ukrainian borscht there. With pampushki.

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