I am the author of the Goodacity blog, a journalist, and a translator. For 16 years, I have worked in professional journalism, contributing to regional and national publications, both in print and online media. I have written reports, conducted interviews, reviews, articles on cultural, social, and charitable topics, as well as materials in the style of "solution journalism" and communication materials.
My focus is on creating interesting and exclusive content. Journalism, to me, is primarily about human stories, to which I always find the key, empathize with the people I write about, and love all my heroes. Journalism, to me, means telling people about what truly matters to them, informing and inspiring them. It is not just a job, but a way of life, just like for all those who dream, create, and are inspired by it.
So, if you are looking for stories that inspire and motivate, that instill faith and help find meaning while believing in goodness, read my stories on the Goodacity website.
I am a manager of cultural affairs and a project manager with over 14 years of experience at United Thinkers. I have participated in the organization of numerous successful social and charitable projects and have implemented informational campaigns and communication cases.
As a marketing manager, I have been involved in organizing marketing and sociological research, working with media and partners, developing advertising and marketing strategies, as well as planning and implementing advertising campaigns.
I believe in the power of goodness and I am happy that as part of the Goodacity project, I can contribute to its expansion. I believe in the power of words and in the fact that communication can help make the world a better place. I know how, where and when to speak in order to be heard. And when you are heard, you can change the world!
Never give up — even if only one hand remains…
I don’t know how to watch this video without tears. Without goosebumps. And without an incredible sense of pride for our indomitable people! A video where a Ukrainian soldier, strong in spirit after undergoing an amputation, doesn’t lose heart but helps volunteers by handing out strips for weaving nets.
The story of Valeriy, a Ukrainian soldier from a village in the Chernihiv region of Ukraine, is a tale of incredible spirit, bravery, will to live, and an example of never giving up. Even if only one hand remains.
The Hardest Part of War: Losing Comrades
“How could I not go? The thought never even crossed my mind! When I received my draft notice, I immediately told my family: ‘I won’t look for any way out. I’m going to serve, to protect you and Ukraine.’ My parents and wife were worried, anxious, but they supported me. Every time I called home from service, I reassured my mom, telling her everything was fine, that we were far from the hotspots, all quiet, all calm… I’d hang up, calming my mom so she wouldn’t worry – and then it was back to the front line, into the very ‘whirlwind’ of war…”
Valeriy is 29. “My parents are from Zakarpattia, Ukraine, and moved here to the Chernihiv region 25 years ago. I’ve lived my whole life here, so I consider myself a Chernihiv local,” he says with a smile. “I went to school in the neighboring village of Shybrynivka, Ukraine, then work, I worked in construction, and then came the war…
I enlisted alongside my own brother, and we were together for training abroad – in Spain. The training was intense, very powerful, and beneficial! The respect and honor shown to Ukrainian soldiers there were striking; the honors with which we were sent off from there to the front were impressive.
After training, I served in the 58th Brigade, working as an operator-scout. By April, I was on the front lines, serving near Kreminna in the Luhansk region of Ukraine. Was it scary? More like, I couldn’t fully believe that all this was happening for real…
Infantry work is all about ‘digging in,’ because the more you dig, the higher your chances of survival. The enemy was firing at us with everything they had, and the shelling was constant…
All day you dig in your ‘armor,’ soaking wet, and at night you sleep without ever taking off your body armor… War is a job that requires you to be strong in spirit and body… It was hard both physically and morally, but I tried to call home whenever possible to say that I was alright. The supply situation was good; we had everything we needed. I can’t say much about the war, but I’ll only say that everything can be overcome, lived through – the fear, the daily discomforts, and much more. But the most painful thing is to see your comrades dying, those with whom you’ve spent so much time shoulder-to-shoulder. With whom you shared a trench, with whom you recently ate, joked, laughed, and then suddenly – they’re gone… It’s very painful.”
Strong in spirit: Losing a Limb Doesn't Mean Losing Life
May 14th, noon. Another day at war. The day when life split into “before” and “after.”
“We were at our positions,” Valeriy recalls, “when we got shelled – whether from a mortar or something else, I can’t quite remember what hit us. An explosion, then darkness… I came to, opened my eyes – saw my hand was gone, and my guys were in a terrible state… I ran to the next trench for help – can’t even imagine how I managed it in a state of shock. There were five of us in that trench – only a comrade and I survived…
I was taken to a hospital in Lyman, Ukraine, then operated on in Izium, Ukraine, and transferred to Kharkiv, Ukraine.
The doctors said the tourniquet applied by my comrades essentially saved my life… While in Izium, I asked for a phone – called my family, told them I was alive, not to worry – and by the time I was in the hospital in Kharkiv, my wife had already rushed to be by my side.
Then came a long string of military hospitals, treatments, and an extended rehabilitation. Since July, I’ve been home, trying to adapt to the fact that life has now changed… The situation with getting a prosthetic is complicated – all the places I’ve reached out to have said there’s a long wait due to huge queues. Besides, I have a high amputation, and it’s hard to find such prosthetics in Ukraine. But I really need a prosthetic: I’d like to be able to manage everything myself and return to normal life.
His spirit is strong enough even to support his comrades! “The guys in the hospital who also had similar issues and I talked a lot, supported each other,” says Valeriy. “Losing a limb doesn’t mean they’ve ‘cut off’ your life.
Life goes on. You shouldn’t dwell on what you don’t have but focus on what remains. Look at how many of our guys are fighting with prosthetics: arms, legs, one or even several…
Perhaps, there’s nothing like this anywhere else in the world! But we have it – because we are a country of the indomitable! From the start, I didn’t make a tragedy out of my injury: a hand is one thing, but people live without hands. Lucky to be alive – not everyone was so fortunate that day…
I keep in touch with all my comrades today – they also supported me a lot, and now I worry for them too…”
Asked about the video of net weaving, where we first saw Valeriy.
“My wife and I go to weave nets at our village club,” he smiles. “I can’t do much with one hand, but it still counts as help, especially when I see how volunteers from neighboring Antonovychi and Shybrynivka work like bees and help us. Phantom pains still trouble me – if not for them, I’d do and help much more. My wife has always been involved in volunteering, and she continues to be. She’s my guardian angel, always hugely supportive! We got married in the fall of ’21, and half a year later, the full-scale war started. I was working in Bucha, Ukraine, in construction, we rented a place there, spent the winter in our native village in the Chernihiv region, and were planning to go back there right on February 24th – miraculously, God spared us. Our village was just passed through by the occupiers – but watching enemy tanks rolling down our streets was unbearable. I remembered that moment during the war, telling myself: we’re all here so that these tanks never roam our land again…”
Never Turn Your Back on Those Returning from War!
“I’ve managed to adapt a bit at home, even trying to help my wife however I can. I’m hands-on with work: once I start something, I have to finish it! I was right-handed, but now I’ve had to become a lefty: eating, doing everything – I even learned to shave with my left hand. The only thing I can’t do well with it yet is write. What would I advise those who are also facing amputation and are just starting on this path? Above all, never lose faith and spirit, remember that life goes on – and that’s what matters the most.
There are many guys with injuries, and it’s important not just for the state but for society, for people to know how to behave around those with amputations, to understand that the wounds and injuries of soldiers are the price of each new day for all of us.
What’s psychologically the hardest now? Being “invisible” here, in the rear – when people, seeing you and glancing at the empty sleeve, divert their eyes and silently pass by.
I recently read a powerful statement: “Society must take responsibility for the soldier returning home, just as he took responsibility for society when he went to war.” I wish it were truly so – that people like me are remembered not just until a certain date, that society does not turn its back on those who have returned from war. I dream that when everyone who is currently defending our homeland returns, our society will learn to properly welcome not only the fallen but the living heroes as well.”
Instead of a P.S. Let’s not forget the price of each peaceful day here, in the rear. Let’s support the Ukrainian military in whatever way we can. Place a hand over the heart as a sign of respect and honor whenever we see them on the street.
