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!
Where to go for the weekend? For a stroll to the ethnographic treasure!
Solomyaniky, kumantsi, rubeli, skrebnitsi, zhliukta, nochvy, rohachi — such colorful names are worth it! Colorful embroidered shirts, embroidered and woven towels, painted plump chests, “fairytale” creaking spinning wheels, ancient hand mills, and touching wooden cradles carved and adorned with patterns, suspended from the rafters of the house… Now imagine a stroll among these treasures, accompanied by an interesting guided tour and seasoned with incredible stories — history and humor, and most importantly, with soul! But why imagine? Are you looking for where to go for the weekend? Let’s go to Moskaly! Thirty kilometers from Chernihiv, Ukraine, is a small village called Moskaly (the name of the village also has its own history—we’ll tell you about it later!).
But for now, get acquainted with the owner of this incredible ethnographic treasure, the local historian Yuriy Dakhno, for whom the search and preservation of this unique beauty has become more than just a hobby—it’s a lifelong mission!
The Link between the Past and the Future
Where to go near Kyiv or where to go in Chernihiv Oblast? Without a doubt, the collection of antiquities owned by Mr. Yuriy is worth visiting the man and exploring it.
“He’s incredibly cool!” spun around in my head throughout the improvised several-hour tour that Mr. Yuriy conducted for us among his gathered antiquities. It occurred to me that the main treasure here, among nearly fifteen thousand unique exhibits, is this man himself, enamored with our history.
He is the link. The link between the past and the future. And like no one else, he understands well that without the past, there is no future.
“How did it all start? It started from my childhood, collecting shards in the towns,” Mr. Yuriy recounts how he collected his collection of antiquities. “We had this ‘shard fever’ with the boys—we searched for fragments of old clayware everywhere we could. I accumulated an interesting collection, ‘preserved’ it: put it in three-liter jars and buried it somewhere that I still can’t find today,” he laughs. “My father scolded me, my grandma scolded me, but to me, it was all incredibly fascinating.”
We ask the man when he realized that his childhood fascination had grown into something more, essentially becoming a lifelong pursuit. “I guess I never really realized it,” Mr. Yuriy laughs. “It all happened on its own… Both the passion and the collection grew with me. One of the earliest exhibits in my collection is a copper kopeck from 1810. My father found it and gave it to me. It had an interesting story—three times I lost it; my childhood friends would snatch it from me. But three times it returned to me. And to this day, I have that coin and a whole collection of others as well. After numismatics, I started collecting textiles. My great-grandfather, Andriy Hnatovych Dakhno, was a weaver himself and excelled in embroidery— we even had towels made by him. I inherited a bit of his talent because I also embroider and weave a little.
In my family, there has always been great reverence for embroidered items, especially cherished by my grandfather’s sister, Grandma Dasha. Since childhood, I remember her stories about the “dekulakization” when the Soviets imposed an unbearable tax on people, and if they couldn’t pay it, they confiscated everything—everything without exception… A towing brigade came to our estate and took everything, even dismantling the pantry, barns, and sheds. My great-grandfather and great-grandmother died of hunger, and for a long time, Grandma recognized her hand-embroidered shirts on strangers…”
The Towels of Our Memory: Returning the Towel Grandma Traded for a Bag of Flour
“For a bag of flour, my grandmother gave away an embroidered towel in her village, and as fate would have it, several decades later, I managed to retrieve that towel,” Mr. Yuriy shares. “I was helping a woman in the village, and she wanted to pay me for my work, but instead, I asked for that towel. The towels of our memory…
Over time, as people found out that I collect antiques, they would come to me, offering to buy or trade something, and sometimes they would simply give me antique items, saying, ‘Take it, because it’s just lying around unused here, and at least it will go to a museum.’ When someone saw something interesting, they would say, ‘Take it to Yurko at the post office…’
In the village, they even call me ‘Yurko the Postman.’ I worked as the head of the local post office for twenty-five years—consider it a quarter of a century. Such work is primarily about interacting with people. So many human stories, enough to write a book: touching and funny stories… If, God willing, I manage to publish a book someday, it will be called ‘The Chronicles of a Rural Postman.’ Not only did I collect artifacts, but I also recorded folklore, various anecdotes, and stories…”
Some artifacts had to be rescued, so to speak. I remember a case in a neighboring village where an elderly lady was about to tear apart a unique white-on-white embroidered shirt (known as a “dodilnytsia” because it’s long, reaching down to the feet). She said she needed rags for carrying hay. When I heard about it, I was taken aback and proposed buying her fabric for rags in exchange for the shirt. And there are hundreds, if not thousands, of such stories: each artifact has its own… The entire collection of antiques is now spread across five houses. I bought old houses where no one lived to accommodate everything. In one house, there’s everything related to weaving; in another, cradles; yet another is filled with mills and everything related to bread baking…
The central building is so packed with items that I have to squeeze through. I have more than fifty wooden, carved chests! There are over seventy straw hats, and embroidered towels number in the thousands, if we count the contemporary ones… Did I count the number of artifacts? That would take more than a day. Honestly, I don’t know the exact count. People came for tours and said they had never seen so much in one place in their entire lives… If we count the coins, photographs, and all the “knick-knacks,” it would be ten to fifteen thousand, if not more! The attics, storerooms, and closets are all crammed full, and there’s nowhere to put it all…
Often, people wonder where to go for a weekend getaway and don’t realize how many interesting things are right near them. Interestingly enough, more people from Kyiv visit me on tours than locals from Chernihiv. It’s a pity because all of my artifacts are from Chernihiv region and are about Chernihiv. We ourselves still don’t know what treasures we truly have. People looked at the collection and couldn’t believe it; they said, “It can’t be true!” But it is! I want people to see the real Chernihiv region, and I’m happy when I succeed in doing so…
How museum mills saved people during the occupation
The museum is my passion; it’s not a commercial project. I never sell any items from my collection—on principle, I have never sold any of these things throughout my life, no matter how financially difficult it has been. I have occasionally given items as gifts to those who truly care, but I don’t sell. These are our Ukrainian soul—how can it be translated into monetary value? If an item has come into my possession, I want to preserve it and show it to people. I collect all of this not just for myself but for the people… I want people to see our history, be interested in it, and be inspired by it! All these items are about our strength! The strength of our lineage, which is passed down from generation to generation, the strength of memory that is indestructible! In my collection, each item is like a letter from the past…
You know, it’s such a strange feeling when last spring, when the occupiers entered our village, we had to put into operation the old museum mills – the same ones that saved our ancestors from hunger… There was no electricity, people couldn’t buy groceries – we don’t have a store, and so on these mills, almost a hundred years later, everyone ground wheat and corn.
The icon “Unburnt Bush,” preserved from my great-grandfather who died of hunger, survived. The Komsomol members trampled it with their feet, but it survived, imagine that. So, with this icon, I walked around the village and all the museum buildings – I prayed to God to protect it… And God did protect it. You know, I was never afraid for myself. I was afraid for my family, afraid for the village, worried about our exhibits – they are unique things, they are our history. The more valuable ones, I hid and buried to prevent the occupiers from looting, but it’s impossible to hide everything…
Fortunately, no one broke into the museum – they walked around, looked through the windows, but they didn’t dare to touch anything. Together with my eldest son, we provided our soldiers with information about the occupiers’ equipment – how much of it and where it was located. I climbed onto the barn to catch the signal; the whole village was involved in this. Oh, how I remember all of this…
I’m already 60 years old, they would give me a gun, and I would shoot, although my ailments don’t allow me near the trenches anymore. But these exhibits are also ammunition… Our soldiers once visited me; they walked around, looked, and they were impressed. They say, “This is what we fight for – to preserve our memory, our history!” Their dedication, their sincerity – it’s worth a lot! We help our boys – we dried apples, filled several bags with nuts, and sent energy bars. And they got interested in the museum – they say, “We need to make something good for you here, help fix the buildings, so that people have a place to visit – because everyone should see our treasures!” For now, it’s all just dreams… I’m glad that among my friends, I have a few extraordinary ones who support me in every way, inspire me, and help me financially. Well, the understanding and support of family and fellow villagers are also worth a lot. However, I really wish people could see and know what we have and that these unique treasures preserved for centuries receive the appropriate attention. It’s a whole layer of our culture – and we are directly involved in it. Therefore, we must take care to preserve it… It’s not just my responsibility. It’s the responsibility of every Ukrainian!”
