Per my routine, I’ve been waking up to my daily browse of UK radio, hoping to find a humorous titbit to kick off this week’s diary. Given the dire nature of events in Ukraine and Lebanon this week, I figured it might be a tough ask. I was mistaken. Prime Minister Starmer has taken a lot of incoming flak from the usual suspects. Long-range missiles into Russia? Nope. Exploding pagers in Beirut? Absolutely not. His wardrobe? Bingo. I listened, bemused, and tried calculating the cost of a suit in Tory units. Two Johnsons? (at £800 a roll of wallpaper) or perhaps half a Sunak? (Augusta Westland helicopter flight @£3000 an hour) or .00000000000000000001% of a BREXIT. There really should be an app…
It got me thinking, though: Who accepts free clothes? Whoops, I remembered: I do. After a screening of A Private War in London, a feature film about the life of my former Sunday Times colleague, Marie Colvin, who was killed in Syria and portrayed on screen by Rosamund Pike, three people approached me. Having just finished a Q&A with Rosamund, I assumed they wanted to ask a few more questions about the film.
“I’m Keith,” said a cheery chap proffering his hand.
We shook, and I waited for his question.
“We’re from Belstaff Clothing, and we’d like to dress you,”
I froze. Shit, had the nightmare come true? Had I just done a naked Q&A? I looked down, expecting the worst, but to my relief, I was fully clothed. “Erm, I’m already dressed,” I said, stating the obvious.
“We dressed Jamie Dornan (who had played me in the film), so we’d like to do the same to you,” said Keith, thinking he’d made a grave error and was about to give a complete idiot-free run of an expensive clothing store. He did, and I’m still wearing the clothes six years later.
I guess the difference is that I’m not the Prime Minister, and I happen to live in one set of clothes until, quite literally, they fall apart on me. So, unless the PM finds himself naked at the podium in Downing Street, it’s probably wise to lay off the freebies for now unless, of course, it’s Belstaff, in which case, go for it, mate; they make excellent, stylish, hard-wearing clothes (hint hint, Keith?).
While the airwaves may be filled with stories of dubious interest, outside the headlines, life in Ukraine continues its brutal course. I’ve spent the last weeks in Odesa watching ballistic missiles and Shaheed drones attacking Ukraine's port infrastructure. These strikes have a ripple effect, leading to higher costs of essential food items for some of the world's poorest people in Sub-Saharan Africa - food used as a weapon of war.
At the same time, world leaders continue to dither over critical decisions that have a direct impact on who lives and who dies in Ukraine. This week, Ukraine struck two significant ammunition dumps deep inside Russia, destroying an estimated 40,000 tonnes of munitions. That’s 40,000 tonnes less explosive hell available to be unleashed on civilian targets in embattled Ukrainian cities. This puts to bed any claim that Ukraine's ability to strike deep within the Russian Federation with long-range ATACAMS and Storm Shadows would have no benefit. They are mistaken. It would.
While it seems like news from Ukraine is an undiluted stream of misery, there are, if you scratch deeply enough beneath the surface, stories to restore your faith in humanity. This war has wonderfully highlighted the spirit of the volunteer, and in twenty-five years of photographing war zones, I’ve never encountered it on this scale. It has brought out the best in people, from volunteers evacuating civilians from the front lines to whole kitchens in Lviv preparing food for the troops in the trenches. Ukraine has a vast network of volunteers whose contributions go widely unrecognised.
My youngest son, Otto, a trained carpenter, called me a few months ago. He felt in a bit of a rut in the UK and wanted to volunteer in Ukraine. He asked if I knew of any projects he could join. I connected him with Liliya, a Ukrainian friend I had trained on a journalist hostile environment course, who told me she would hook him up with an NGO doing rebuilding work on war-damaged houses.
On the day Russia bombed the children’s hospital in Kyiv, I received a call from Otto. Given his previous flaky history with train journeys, he had miraculously made it from Devon to Kyiv and was in the temporary company of my mate Oz, who would get him a sim card and orient him for a day or two. Two days later, he had caught local busses, something I would never attempt, and made it to the project in the Chernihiv region of Ukraine.
A few weeks later, I jumped in the car from Odesa and drove the nine hours to see how he was getting on. What I found filled me with a rare sense of optimism. The International Building Camp (INBUT) project, part of the Repair Together initiative, was set up by Ukrainians and international volunteers to restore and rebuild homes in the Chernihiv region, an area hit hard in the initial months of Russia’s invasion. The building work is headed up by a professional Irish builder, Eoin, who has a rare soft spot for the English (sorry, mate!) and Vera, who manages the day-to-day business of the project.
The volunteers, aged between eighteen and fifty, come from Ukraine and various countries worldwide. They packed their bags and travelled to Chernihiv, a few hours north of Kyiv where base camp is in a village scarred by war has become their new home. Some volunteers live in tents, while others occupy a few rooms in the back, which they share with they are a flock (?) of local mosquitoes. They live and cook together, fostering a genuine camaraderie and purpose in their team's vision.
Eoin conducted a daily briefing on who would be working on which project. Some would be doing brickwork; others would be on the rooves, laying timbers and slate in 35-degree + temperatures. The international team then piled into various vehicles and headed off for a ten-hour day of graft. I visited three sites while there, and given that many volunteers had no previous building experience, the standard of reconstruction work was incredible.
Around six p.m., the volunteers returned to base and sat down to a meal cooked by team members who work on rotation through the kitchen. The team looked exhausted and scorched by the August sun, so after the food, they headed down to the ‘pub’, a local village shop with a few chairs outside that serves cold beer. What was beautiful to behold was the interaction with the locals. There is a genuine sense of connection between those who have seen and experienced an invasion by a delinquent Russia and the volunteers who have left the comfort of their homes and countries to help those most in need.
They understand the need to rebuild, not randomly but with a sense of purpose. When the locals fled the invasion, Russia destroyed not only the infrastructure but also the local community. This inspired group of volunteers is rebuilding not just homes but whole communities from the ground up. They have my utmost respect.
To donate to the rebuilding projects, please contact - Irishmaninkyiv@gmail.com