Anastasiia Bereza, a determined journalist from Ukraine, has spent years documenting the profound human cost of the ongoing war. Amid the chaos of missiles falling on her homeland, Bereza constructs narratives that delve beyond the destruction, revealing the strength and vulnerability of those left behind. Her writing paints a vivid picture: a mother’s heartache for her lost teenage son, soldiers at Donetsk Airport haunted by the ghosts of past battles, and children who, having defeated cancer, now face a fresh struggle for survival.

Bereza’s mission goes beyond simple reporting: she strives to immortalise the victims, tragedies, and heroes of this war in the collective consciousness. Now, she turns her attention to Stryi, Ukraine’s independent non-profit media outlet, dedicated to preserving the stories of fallen soldiers. Her firm commitment has brought her recognition, including the Golden Heart Award and the Order of Merit from the President of Ukraine.

While participating in the European Centre for Press and Media Freedom’s (ECPMF) Journalists-in-Residence (JiR) programme, Bereza took a moment not for break but for reflection and preparation. This break has allowed her to recharge and focus on the critical work that lies ahead. In a touching conversation with Tamara Svanidze, an intern in the ECPMF Support Programme, she shares insights into her journey, the emotional weight of witnessing the suffering of her fellow citizens, and the urgent necessity of remembering those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.

You have significant experience working as a journalist for prominent Ukrainian media outlets. Could you share a bit more about your background and how you came to pursue a career in journalism in Ukraine?

According to a family legend, in the final days before giving birth, my mother read a detective novel featuring a journalist named Anastasiia. And that’s how I became both Anastasiia and a journalist.

On a more serious note, I was born in one of the coldest and most polluted cities in the world, back in the Soviet Union. After its collapse, my family moved to my stepfather’s homeland, which gave me the incredible fortune of becoming a citizen of the bravest country in the world — Ukraine.

My passion for journalism — meaning my love for writing, intolerance of violence, and desire to protect the vulnerable — emerged during my school years. Becoming a journalist was my only professional dream. I started my career at a local weekly newspaper, and later, I was fortunate to work as a reporter and editor for some of Ukraine’s leading media outlets.

As far as I understand, you were born in the territories that are now part of Russia, but you grew up and lived in Ukraine. Earlier you mentioned that you once had thoughts about the impossibility of war between your two homelands. How has the reality of war influenced your view of Russia and Ukraine and how does it affect your work as a journalist?

I have only one homeland—Ukraine, even if it differs from the place of my birth and early childhood.

In 2014, while covering the occupation of Crimea, I felt — within a single moment — that I no longer had any connection to the state of the Russian Federation, a country where I had never lived.

Although you always envisioned yourself working in journalism, you mentioned that you became a war journalist due to circumstances. How did you cope with the challenges of this role? What skills have you developed and what challenges do you still face in this regard?

Like most Ukrainian journalists, I became a war reporter out of necessity. Russia waged war on our country, and, along with many of my colleagues, I began covering it.

In the spring of 2014, I went to the combat zone with no understanding of safety protocols, no medical insurance, and no proper equipment. But the most terrifying and difficult part of war is not the physical threat to your life and health — it is the inevitable deaths of thousands of people around you.

Sometimes, being a professional witness to so much suffering in your own country becomes so unbearable that it drains not only the will to work but even the will to live. Covering a war in your own homeland is an experience I would not wish upon any journalist in the world.

I want to express my deepest gratitude to all the foreign journalists who do not have to, yet choose to risk their lives to report on our war. And eternal honour to those who lost their lives doing so.

You are currently developing the Stryi Media project, a platform dedicated to fallen Ukrainian soldiers and their families. This seems to be a very personal project for you. What moved you to work on it?

Since the very beginning of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2014, I realised the importance of preserving the names of our fallen soldiers and supporting their families. At the time, I thought we would be speaking of only hundreds…

That’s how I became part of several projects dedicated to collecting the stories of military personnel and supporting their families in various ways. Together with my colleagues and like-minded people, we have managed to do some meaningful work in this field.

But for me, this is much more than just work. I maintain personal relationships with many families of fallen soldiers. At home, I always keep in sight the photos of defenders whom I never had the chance to meet in life, yet who have become deeply important to me.

Keeping their memory alive is both a great responsibility and an honour.

Considering your previous experience and the realities of the war, how do you see yourself in the future? Will Stryi Media continue to be involved in your journalistic journey? How do you see the project in post-war Ukraine?

The war and its consequences will undoubtedly remain the central theme of both my professional and personal life forever. It is impossible to live for anything else after what has happened to us and how much we have lost.

There are so many stories to uncover and tell, so many crimes to investigate, so many events to document and reflect upon. Even just gathering the names of all those who have been killed will take my colleagues and me years, and no lifetime would be enough to find information about each of them and tell their stories.

And then there are their families—who will need attention and support.

This is a lifetime’s work.

Through your work, you offer support to the families of fallen soldiers. What message would you like to share with the international community about the human cost of the war in Ukraine?

Soldiers are people, too. That is what I would say if I had just one second to address the world.

Today, under international law, Ukrainian soldiers are considered a “legitimate target” for the army of an aggressor state. I firmly and deeply believe that this must change.

Killing the soldiers of a country that is defending its right to exist is no different from taking any other human life. Moreover, the majority of the Ukrainian army consists of former civilians — doctors, teachers, athletes, journalists, cooks, actors, scientists, students, construction workers, and drivers. Their deaths should not be “lawful.”

The duty to defend one’s country must not translate into a legal right for others to kill without consequences.

International law must recognise that the killing of those who defend their country’s right to exist cannot be left without accountability.

Considering the significant mental and emotional stress that individuals from war zones often experience, what were your primary motivations for joining the Journalists-in-Residence programme?

Journalists are always at the epicenter of the world’s most traumatic events, even if not physically, then through their computer screens. Like professionals in similar fields, they don’t necessarily need support during an acute crisis, but rather afterward—when prolonged exposure to tragic stories, firsthand accounts of loss, and continuous coverage of death and suffering leads to burnout, post-traumatic stress, exhaustion, sleep disorders, and depressive episodes.

I am grateful to ECPMF for its long-standing, reliable, and responsible support of journalists worldwide and appreciate the opportunity to be among those who have benefited from it for a much-needed reset, respite, and recovery. Most importantly, it allows me to work effectively in a calm and predictable environment—without nightly air raid alarms and morning shelling.