Outside Kyiv-Mohyla Academy.
A university in the country’s capital.
A group of student volunteers.
Are helping new applicants to enrol.
She explains that some of.
The current students.
Have never attended.
A class here in person.
“They were accepted.
During the Covid pandemic.
And then ‘orcs’.
Full-scale invasion happened.”
“So they were never.
Really in class offline.
It’s a little bit sad.”
“It’s a little bit sad.”
Outside Kyiv-Mohyla Academy.
A university in the country’s capital.
A group of student volunteers.
Are helping new applicants to enrol.
But she and.
Her fellow volunteers.
Explain that things.
Are different now.
With students returning.
To in-person lectures.
This year.
Despite the ongoing war.
Outside Kyiv-Mohyla Academy.
A university in the country’s capital.
A group of student volunteers.
Are helping new applicants to enrol.
That means parents.
Have even more questions.
Than usual.
“They ask pretty often.”
“If we have enough.
Places in shelters.
If their children.
Come and study here.”
And it also means.
Even further pressure on students.
Deciding whether and where.
To go to university.
Outside Kyiv-Mohyla Academy.
A university in the country’s capital.
A group of student volunteers.
Are helping new applicants to enrol.
*Because I read “Ukraine war: University students grapple with rules under conflict” by Toby Luckhurst on 17 Aug 2023, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem as a story of Anna and her fellow volunteers – Anya, Tanya, Nastiia, and Sophia.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Ukraine war: University students grapple with rules under conflict (bbc.com)
