I know what these posts may cost me.
I know that my account may be buried by the algorithm, that my fundraisers may become invisible, and that the support my people desperately need may become even harder to find.
But tell me, how am I supposed to stay silent?
How can I talk about algorithms, engagement, and fundraising strategies as if they matter more than the lives of people who are about to face another winter under Russian terror?
My heart is breaking. I am exhausted, angry, and filled with a hatred for the cruelty that continues to destroy my country and steal the future of our children.
I am a soldier. I know what we are fighting against. But I am also a husband, a father, and a human being who is tired of watching innocent people pay the price for the worldโs hesitation.
Every time Russia strikes our energy infrastructure, it is not just another headline. It is another threat to families who want nothing more than to survive the winter in their own homes. It is another night of fear, another uncertainty, another reminder that for millions of Ukrainians, peace is still a distant dream.
So yes, perhaps these words will cost me visibility. Perhaps fewer people will see my fundraisers. Perhaps the algorithm will bury my voice.
But I cannot trade my conscience for reach. I cannot choose silence simply because speaking the truth might make it harder to ask for help.
To my friends in the West: please, do not let Ukraine become background noise. Do not let our suffering become so familiar that it no longer moves you.
We are still here. We are still fighting. And we still need you.
Not because we expect you to save us, but because your support helps us protect the people who have nowhere else to turn.
If you cannot donate, please share this message. If you cannot share it, please do not look away.
Because somewhere in Ukraine, a family is wondering whether they will have electricity, heat, or a safe place to sleep this winter.
And I refuse to pretend that this is normal.
Forgive me if my words are too angry. I am simply running out of ways to describe the pain of watching my country suffer and still having to beg the world not to forget us.