This is far from a full account of what I saw and heard during an intense journey through Ukraine, where I encountered a society that refuses to surrender. It is an attempt to process the experience, and to thank the people who trusted us with their stories.

By Xhabir Deralla

It’s been just over a week since I returned from Ukraine, after an exceptionally intense journey through Lutsk, Kyiv, Bucha, Irpin and Borodianka. The days since my return have been relentless. I’d hoped to write this message sooner, but that proved almost impossible. I am still processing the meetings, the conversations, the testimonies, the images… and the emotions.

Before I continue sharing the reports and interviews from this journey, however, there is something I need to say:

Дякую. Thank you.

This is not yet an account of everything we saw and heard. Those reports and interviews will follow in the days and weeks ahead. My first thought after leaving Ukraine was, and remains, simply gratitude. Deep gratitude.

Ukraine border crossing, 19 July 2026 (photo: Xhabir Deralla/CIVIL)

PRESS: A sign meant to protect can get you killed

I saw a country under constant attack, but also a society that refuses to surrender.

I met journalists for whom the word PRESS, a sign meant to protect them, can instead mark them as a target. It can get them killed. Yet they continue reporting, documenting Russian aggression and preserving evidence of war crimes.

I watched traffic stop as people stood or knelt in silence while a fallen defender was brought home. The cars formed a long procession. People paused whatever they were doing to say goodbye to a hero.

And alongside the grief, I saw people rebuilding their homes, their communities and their lives, even as Russia attacks, day after day, trying to destroy what they rebuild.

I saw young Ukrainians protest and demand accountability, and I saw that they were heard. Not arrested. Not silenced. Heard. A change at the top of the military command followed. Even in wartime, democracy is not suspended in Ukraine. It is practised. Under fire.

I saw people working, laughing, stopping at memorials for a silent prayer, and then continuing with their day. Not because they are without fear, but because they refuse to let fear decide who they are or how they will spend their day.

Lutsk, 20 July 2026 (photo: Xhabir Deralla/CIVIL)

Bucha, Irpin and Borodianka: Memory and hope

One experience has become even more difficult to absorb since our return.

On Thursday, 23 July, Wolfgang and I visited Bucha. We stood at the Church of St Andrew, walked along the Alley of Heroes and visited Vokzalna Street. We listened to people who survived the occupation and witnessed Russian war crimes. We saw how the community preserves memory while rebuilding life.

The following morning, the Russian aggressor struck the Bucha district with ballistic missiles. Ten people were killed and around one hundred were injured.

You see…

Here, the past and the danger of the present keep colliding in the most brutal way. Russia wants its victims to accept aggression as their past, present and future. As something permanent, inescapable and beyond resistance. Ukraine has defied that imposed reality for more than twelve years.

The representatives and citizens of Bucha, Irpin and Borodianka showed us places of enormous suffering and destruction, but also inspiring examples of courage and determination to recover and rebuild. Their stories will remain with me. And they will be told.

In Bucha, my gratitude goes to Dmytro Hapchenko, Managing Director of Bucha City Council, who remained in the city throughout the Russian occupation and shared both his testimony and his vision for the future with us. I am equally grateful to Kateryna Denisenko, who heads international cooperation and helped us understand and remember the immense suffering, and the unseen heroism of this place.

In Irpin, I am grateful to Yevheniia Antoniuk, Managing Director of the Executive Committee of Irpin City Council, and Olha Kharchenko, Head of International Cooperation, who guided us through the past, present and future of this place of resistance and resolve.

In Borodianka, my gratitude goes to Oleksandr Sakharuk, Mayor of Borodianka, Olha Romanchenko, responsible for international cooperation, grants and investment, Kateryna Mykhalova of the Citizens’ Appeals Sector, and Valentyn Moiseienko, a local historian and author of books about the occupation of Borodianka.

St. Andrew Church, Bucha, 23 July 2026

They gave us their time, their knowledge and their trust. They spoke with stoicism about the past, with resolve about the challenges of the present, and with hope about the future.

Once names in the world’s news headlines, Bucha, Irpin and Borodianka are now places of remembrance, rebuilding and hope. They must not be forgotten. They must be rebuilt as living symbols of Ukraine’s freedom and its right to determine its own future.

In Irpin, we entered the underground memorial space dedicated to the occupation and resistance. There, we met Natalka Poltavka, whose videos captured the first moments of the Russian invasion and became part of the world’s collective memory.

One of our hosts then told us the story of a child, a story that broke through every professional defence I had. For a moment, I was no longer taking notes or thinking about the report. I was simply one human being listening to another speak about violence, tragedy, and resistance.

I left every meeting and every institution, and walked those streets, with the same storm inside me. Grief. Awe. And a quiet rage.

The people with whom I shared the journey

I did not experience any of this alone. First and foremost, I want to thank my close colleagues and friends, Dr Wolfgang Ressmann, founder of Media Dialogue and head of Youth4Media, and Mika Beuster, President of the German Journalists’ Association, DJV.

Mika, Wolfgang, and Xhabir, Lutsk, 20 July 2026 (photo: Volodymyr Danyliuk)

Thank you, my friends. For the journey, the solidarity, the long conversations, the difficult silences and the remarkable moments we shared.

I will remember Mika looking at the rainbow above the road to Lutsk and saying, “This must be a good sign.” I will remember Wolfgang describing our position in western Ukraine as “the eye of the hurricane.”

I should add that they share a wonderful sense of humour, the kind you need when the moments become difficult.

Lutsk: Journalism, friendship and the sacred vertical format

In Lutsk, my deepest gratitude goes to Volodymyr Danyliuk of Volynska Hazeta (Волинська газета). I will remember his sincerity, his warmth and his open heart. I will remember the way he paused, and the expression in his eyes, when he spoke about journalism, freedom, war.

At Volynska Hazeta, hosted by Volodymyr Danyliuk, Lutsk, 20 July 2026 (photo: Xhabir Deralla/CIVIL)

Volodymyr is both a veteran journalist and a veteran of Ukraine’s fight for freedom. His story will remain with me.

I’m grateful to Oksana Rohach, a university professor who was our interpreter, guide and friend. She took us through a demanding programme with energy, precision, patience and an unfailing smile.

The following day, her student Sofia joined us and was a great help, and she also made one thing perfectly clear: the world now comes in the sacred vertical Instagram format.

My thanks also go to Miroslava Syaber and our colleagues at Avers TV for their warm welcome and for giving all of us the opportunity to share our views in a studio conversation.

TV Avers, Lutsk, 20 July 2026 (photo: TV Avers)

I am grateful to Mykhailo Savchak and our colleagues from the Volyn branch of the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine; to Liliia Boiko of the National Council of Television and Radio Broadcasting; to Taras Shkiter of the Volyn Regional Military Administration, and to Hryhoriy Pustovit of the Volyn Regional Council.

My gratitude also goes to MP Iryna Konstankevych and to our hosts at Lutsk National Technical University and Lesya Ukrainka Volyn National University, who took the time to exchange ideas with us about journalism, education, culture and Ukraine’s future.

Kyiv: Testimony, resilience and responsibility

From Lutsk, our journey continued to Kyiv. There, I want to thank Sergiy Tomilenko, President of the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine, and everyone at the National Union and the Kyiv Journalists’ Solidarity Center who spoke so openly about media resilience, captivity, loss and the dangers of reporting from the front. They shared their own experiences, as well as the stories of colleagues killed, missing or held in Russian captivity. Their testimonies were among the most powerful moments of my week in Ukraine.

Family photo at the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine; holding copies of the frontline press (photo: Anton Perepelytsia)

I am also grateful to Anton Perepelytsia, who documented the meeting and generously shared an excellent collection of photographs with us.

Thank you to Ukrinform Director General Serhii Cherevatyi, Deputy Director General Natalia Kostina, and the entire team for their hospitality. Our conversation was warm, open and full of ideas for future cooperation, and one I will remember. And, of course, thank you for the cup.

Ukrinform, Kyiv, 24 July 2026 (photo: Ukrinform)

I am also grateful to Vadym Popko and Julia Tsyfra, to our hosts at Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv, and to the members of the Verkhovna Rada who took the time to meet with us and speak openly about Ukraine’s democratic development, European integration and resistance to Russian aggression.

Thank you to Oleksiy Berezhnoy, representative of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine, for a thoughtful, open and important conversation.

A country I return to

Beyond the official programme, I was fortunate to meet my dear friends Volodymyr Verbitskyi, Kateryna Pavlova and Astrit Istrefi. Our meetings were brief, but warm, meaningful and deeply emotional. In such difficult times, simply seeing them meant a great deal to me.

Thank you also to Vitalii, who drove us safely across long distances and quietly carried an enormous responsibility on his shoulders.

My gratitude goes to the teams of Media Dialogue and Youth4Media, particularly Dr Yevhen Tsymbalenko, and to every person who prepared the programme, arranged the meetings and took care of countless details behind the scenes.

Finally, I want to thank Ambassador Larysa Dir, Viktoriia Prokhorova and the entire team at the Embassy of Ukraine in Skopje. Their trust, friendship and steadfast support over the years have meant a great deal to me. This visit was no exception.

I know that I cannot mention everyone in one message like this. But every conversation and every encounter (including the one with the police officer at Theatre Square in Lutsk) every gesture of hospitality and every testimony remain with me.

Kyiv, 22 July 2026 (photo: Xhabir Deralla/CIVIL)

Gratitude and responsibility

Ukraine has never felt like a country I visit. It is a country I return to.

I did not return from Ukraine only with interviews, footage, photographs and notes.

I returned with the same sense of responsibility I have always carried, but with fresh evidence of why it matters: to report, to bear witness, to confront propaganda and to remind people that Ukraine is defending far more than its territory.

Today. Now. As I write, and as you read.

Ukraine is defending its freedom, its democracy and the future of generations to come.

That struggle matters far beyond Ukraine, but it begins with the right of Ukrainians to live in their own country, on their own terms, without an aggressor dictating who they are allowed to be.

And so I return to where I began:

Gratitude.

To all my colleagues, friends and hosts: thank you for your trust, your courage and your friendship.

Thank you, Ukraine.

Дякую, Україно. До скорої зустрічі.

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