Straight from  Ukraine: The heartbreaking reality through a citizen’s eye

It was 5:30 in the morning. I got a call. War had come to our doors. 

I was told to gather my things and go to the Right Bank of Kyiv. The Russians will attack from Chernihiv (located on the Left Bank). I immediately called my parents and brother. They were in Troyeschina. 

I said let's go to the country house in Kozhukhivka, and then we will decide what to do next. My parents listened, but my brother and his little child stayed in the city. 

It was relatively calm in the country house, but the military airfield was nearby and Ukrainian fighter jets were constantly flying above with a terrible roar. At night, they woke up from explosions. 

But families of my friends still remained on the Left Bank of Kyiv. They had a pregnant woman and a child with them and had to be evacuated. So, I packed up, said goodbye to my parents and so began our sleepless nights. 

For the next two days, I drove continuously. The child kept asking "when will we reach home?".  But we could not find the words.

The worst thing about being on the road in an unknown city is hearing the air raid siren. What should I do? Should I stop the car and look for shelter, or go on without stopping, holding back the tremor in your hands?

Along the way, we saw how quickly the army was setting up checkpoints. They checked every car. We saw how ordinary men took up arms so that their wives and children could have a sound sleep. The women, on the other hand, got behind the wheel and bravely endured the road and took their children to safety.

Ukrainian citizens displaced from their homes are forced to seek refuge into neighbouring countries. PHOTO: REUTERS

It's scary to read the news. "In Vasilkiv, they are firing at the military airfield", "In Vasilkiv the shell hit the oil depot", "In Troyeschina, occupants are trying to destroy the power plant". 

And you, holding back tears to stay focused on the road, call your family non-stop, talk to them at length. It's so nice to hear their voices and the words, "Everything is quiet now, going to bed."  But the fear comes rushing in as soon as the phone connection is lost.  

And then, after days without sleep and food, you get to your destination in relative safety. But along comes a strange feeling - no relief, nothing. You feel guilty. You can't sleep or eat. 

What am I doing here? How can I help? I want to go back. Everyone dissuaded me from doing so. Friends from Kyiv, who are now defending the country, assured me, "There's nothing you can do around here. You will only worry us more".

But I have a task that can somehow affect the course of events.  So, with a heavy heart that draws me to Kyiv, to my family and my friends, I'm going abroad to coordinate with our foreign allies in London. 

And to provide our territorial defence and the Armed Forces with special means of communication - satellite phones, Starlink stations, bulletproof vests, with which we have problems.

Now I am crossing the border with great sorrow, but also with great faith that I am doing the right thing and leaving the country in the safe hands of the Armed Forces, the President and my comrades-in-arms.

Glory to Ukraine!  I will do on the western front everything I can and more.

Ukrainian Journalist Anastasiia Zagoruichyk. TBS Sketch.