When the Russian attack on Ukraine started, I was on a train returning to my family in Lviv, a city in western Ukraine. I woke up at 5 a.m. as passengers were heatedly discussing how all Ukrainian cities were being bombed. I picked up the phone—there were many messages, including one from a friend who works in a Ukrainian ministry. She told me to take my children and pregnant wife to Poland because Russia had launched an invasion.

Read the latest news on industry responses to the Ukraine war.

It felt like I was sinking into a surreal movie—not unlike eight years ago, when Russia started a war in Donbass, a region in southeastern Ukraine. I was sitting in a basement during that shelling, reading Remarque under the glow of a burning school outside my window. It was hard to believe that this is happening again—and now all over Ukraine.

The day before, I was in Kyiv, working on reviews for advertising companies, meeting with clients, giving a brand strategy presentation and awaiting the results of the tender from a large international client. We were also planning to take a day off, to relax as a team and have a picnic near the river. Even if hostilities escalated, we were sure it would not be direct bombing of the civilian population, that everything would somehow begin in stages—as threats rather than a massive bloody war.

A week earlier, I had relocated my family to Lviv. Some relatives thought that I was paranoid and that nothing would happen. But I had the experience of escaping with my mother through forests and minefields during a 2014 rocket attack on Luhansk by pro-Russian separatists. Then, too, no one believed there would be a real war. But with two children and a pregnant wife, I wanted to play it safe before returning to Kyiv to work.  

A few months before that, our office uncorked champagne and celebrated the first London International Awards bronze in the history of Ukraine, several Epica Awards, distributed bonuses to employees in the agency’s first year and shared future plans. Though it’s been only five days since the Russian invasion, those moments seem like they were from a parallel reality or past life.

War changes everything instantly. Yesterday you produced global projects on how businesses can influence the environment and fight for awareness, sustainable values and tolerance. Today you are coming up with fanciful explanations for your daughter—these are salutes in honor of our trip, and not missiles that can kill us.

Now, after an hour-long trip to the Polish border, the children are happy but my wife is worried, especially considering that she is due in three months. Then another 10 hours in line, two hours to Krakow and we are safe again.

A new reality

This war put a new reality in front of everyone. Agency social projects that we were engaged in, such as upcycling merchandise for brands or helping a dog shelter, were replaced by social media projects for the military—three are aimed at deterring Russian aggression and aiding Ukraine, and four more briefs are being developed. There are no commercial projects at all. Ukrainian businesses have put communication on hold because people now have the task of surviving and repelling invading troops, not buying new sneakers or yogurt at a discount.

And how the Ukrainian creative industry will exist in the future— after what we hope is victory over the occupying forces—is a brief that has yet to be written.

Our immediate plans are applying all our talents to help Ukraine survive in the information war with Russia—encouraging Russians to get rid of their crazy, evil, sick president and trying to prevent a third world war. The first days of shock have passed, and we have adapted to the new reality. In this sense, COVID-19 served as a kind of a warm-up exercise, because we often had to leave the office and work in isolation.

Bombings have been added to the isolation. Part of our Bickerstaff.734 team managed to get to safe places, but some still work from Kyiv, where they have joined volunteer defense units or work as volunteers. We at the agency regularly receive several briefs from the Verkhovna Rada, Ukraine’s parliament. Those who did not go to the military front are fighting at the information front—working on projects to help the Ukrainian army and the economy and deterring aggression by the Russian Federation.

Ukraine has now become a human shield for the entire civilized world. Now it is impossible to stand aside, to say that “this is not my war.” Russia has challenged all the norms of a civilized modern society and this threat must be overcome. We are strong, we will win this war together with you for the sake of our common future and a peaceful sky.

When this is all over, be sure to fly to Ukraine. It is unbelievable—or used to be before the shelling. It will rise again to be even more beautiful after we win.