It was before 6am when I arrived in Kyiv by train. The city was unusually quiet, with the day only just beginning after the nightly curfew. The British ambassador to Ukraine, Martin Harris, was waiting on the platform to greet me.
With very few people knowing of my visit, I travelled with only my private secretary, a Foreign Office adviser, and a security team. We reached Kyiv after a long day of travel through Warsaw, and, with no flights, took the well-travelled rail route to the capital that, amazingly, the Ukrainians have kept going during the war.
It was quite an experience. Although I had a comfortable bed, I admit sleep eluded me as we bounced and rattled our way to Kyiv.
This was not my first time in a conflict zone. I have travelled to countries affected by war including South Sudan, Kosovo, Iraq, Colombia, Ethiopia and the Democratic Republic of Congo, in the hope that I can help draw attention to and encourage greater support for survivors of conflict-related sexual violence.
History is littered with reports of women falling prey to advancing and occupying armies, and it still exists in modern warfare. Historically, this has often been viewed as a casualty or symptom of war, rather than a deliberate tactic to overpower. It is only more recently that increased recognition has been given to these heinous crimes, and society has come to understand that it is used to demean, destroy and control, with the aftermath long felt through stigma, devastating physical and mental health repercussions and children born of rape. It is a weapon requiring no training, no investment, and it is deployed globally.
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Since February 2022, according to the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, there have been an estimated 169 cases of conflict-related sexual violence in Ukraine. However, stigma and under-reporting means these figures are likely to be only the tip of the iceberg, which is why, at the request of the British government, I visited Kyiv at the end of last month.
Having arrived in the capital, after a quick stop to refresh and have breakfast, I visited a UN survivor relief centre where I spoke to three survivors of sexual violence: two women and a man. One of the women had with her a gorgeous two-and-a-half-year-old boy from a local orphanage who had a brain injury. Even after suffering terribly at the hands of a number of Russian soldiers over three weeks, this lady’s first thought, when she was able to escape with her husband, was to return to the orphanage where she volunteered and take this vulnerable boy with them.
I then left to visit Ukraine’s first lady, Olena Zelenska, whom I have met several times before, and was touched to find her waiting for me at the bottom of the steps outside the president’s offices. Since the Russian invasion in February 2022, she has been thrust onto a world stage, travelling widely on behalf of her country, having to move from playing the traditional presidential spousal role to being a leader in her own right.
She has done all this with grace and determination, championing all Ukrainians affected by this conflict. We discussed the importance of access to the survivor centres she has spearheaded, the collation of credible evidence, Ukraine’s reparation scheme and the training of prosecutors, to ensure justice and accountability for these crimes.
In a room at the president’s palace, the doors suddenly opened and President Zelensky entered, beaming. Amid all the issues he is grappling with, he took the time to hear about my visit. He also inquired after the King’s health, which gave me the opportunity to hand him a letter from His Majesty. I think he was quite touched and said he would save it for a private moment later to read.
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Mrs Zelenska and I then visited the beautiful and historic St Sophia Cathedral before we parted and I walked to the British embassy, stopping at the destroyed tanks placed in front of St Olga’s statue in Mykhailivska Square, which serve as daily reminder for the citizens of Kyiv of how close the Russian forces came to their capital.
I travelled on to Bucha, 30km northwest of central Kyiv, and its neighbour, Irpin. These are typical suburbs, like any town in the UK, where commuters come and go and families raise their children. This is one of the places where Russia’s offensive on Kyiv was successfully halted by the Ukrainian army’s destruction of the Romanivka bridge over the Irpin river.
With the Russian army struggling to make further inroads towards the city, soldiers turned their sights on the population. Women, men and children were murdered as they fled in cars or on foot, and those who were spared were subjected to sexual violence and torture. With no other means to escape, and under heavy shelling, those able to leave had to walk across hastily laid wobbly wooden planks that forged the raging river in freezing, snowy conditions, with the few belongings they could take.
The mayor of Irpin, Oleksandr Markushyn, explained how he and 500 comrades held the Russians back until Ukraine’s military arrived. In all, 290 Irpin citizens died, but many more were saved.
It is impressive to see how quickly both Bucha and Irpin have been rebuilt. There is a new bridge, buildings that were flattened have been restored, and most evidence of the attack has been erased. Nevertheless, bullet-holes pepper many houses and walls, and the trauma they experienced is clearly displayed in their eyes.
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Father Andriy, a priest in Bucha, took me to the mass graves where 500 victims of the Russian invaders are buried. He showed me the names of his friends, whole families he buried while under threat of fire, and a picture of his fellow priest, whose body lay crumpled and riddled with bullets. He has been caring for his parishioners, overseeing the UN-led exhumation of the bodies, identification and reburial of all who died.
After lighting a candle and offering a prayer in the basement chapel of St Andrew’s Church, Andriy showed me a series of photographs that recorded what happened: the brutality, the burials and the exhumations. Just before I left, I asked him who was looking after his grief and stress. The priest turned his sad eyes to the heavens and said: “He is.”
We then drove to the Save Ukraine organisation in Irpin. These energetic people are working with children who have been internally displaced, offering them a safe place where they can catch up on missed schooling, take part in art therapy and access support for learning difficulties. It’s a happy, safe environment helping so many impacted by the war.
My last stop was at the British ambassador’s residence, where I met civil society leaders from across Ukraine who are grappling with many problems the conflict is bringing, starting with trying to understand the scale of the violence and torture. Their efforts also concentrate on helping the individuals and families who are internally displaced and without work who are beginning to struggle to afford food and accommodation. There is enormous strain on the already stretched medical services, and the desperate issue of more than 20,000 children forcibly deported to Russia, with only a few hundred returned thus far.
On the return journey home, I stopped in Warsaw and visited an education and development centre for Ukrainian refugees. Having met refugees in Ukraine and in the UK, it is clear that while many have been able to flee the direct conflict, they have not escaped it in other ways, and carry trauma and guilt with them. Not only have they left loved ones behind, but they also carry a heavy concern for their — and their country’s — future.
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Since returning to the UK, many people have said how brave or courageous I was for going. I am neither. The brave people are those who have endured extreme violence and survived. The courageous are those who have reported the crimes committed against them. I am glad to have made the journey. Inevitably it was sad and emotional, and the painful stories and images, as with all my visits to places of conflict, will live with me.
As we look around the world with so many current and threatening crises, my hope is that where conflict does occur more consideration is given to creating well-funded early systems of support for survivors and those who have been internally displaced, so that medical and psychological interventions are accessible, alongside the collation of evidence for future prosecutions and the de-stigmatisation of victims.
While others in positions of leadership engage with the politics of war, I will endeavour to place conflict-related sexual violence on the table as a devastating consequence. It is one that is deserving of our attention, empathy and understanding, and to amplify the voices of survivors, who must be heard.
