Voice of Ukraine

From: Maia Mikhaluk in Kyiv)1369th day)

Argh… Sometimes it feels like we are living inside a very dark comedy or horror plot written by someone with no sense of shame. Media reports now say that the so-called “peace plan” was drafted by Trump’s envoy Steve Witkoff together with putin’s long-time fixer Dmitriyev. And although Trump supposedly only “found out about it at the last minute,” he somehow had no problem immediately backing it and pushing a “before Thanksgiving” deadline for Ukraine to accept what looks like a Santa Claus wish list written by the kremlin’s tyrant.

Imagine this: a deal created without Ukraine, delivered to Ukraine, and designed entirely for benefit of ruzzia. A document that pretends to offer peace but demands surrender. A plan assembled by men tangled in kremlin money and handed over as if it were something Ukraine should smile politely and accept.
And then there’s the deadline. As if we’re a paperwork form someone wants signed before a holiday weekend. As if a country fighting for survival, burying civilians, living under nightly missile terror, should drop everything and say “yes” to a plan negotiated behind our backs so someone can declare victory over turkey dinner.

Here is my moment of transparency – writing these posts often begins with a long, quiet prayer: “Lord, please replace the words running through my mind with words that sound like a diplomat who won’t bring shame to the country of my primary residence.”

Because, honestly, the first words in my mind are not diplomatic. They come from the heart of someone who has lived 1369 days of full-scale war, who hears the air-raid sirens in the middle of the night, who prays over her children and grandchildren, who watches Ukraine being pressured — not just by the enemy, but now by supposed allies — into accepting a deal that would guarantee nothing but another, bigger war.

So yes, I pray before I write. I try to keep my tone calm, even when confronted with something outrageous. I choose my words carefully, even when truth feels sharp. And I aim to speak respectfully, clearly, without hatred, but without pretending that reality is something else.

Ukraine is not a bargaining chip. We are not a “holiday peace project.” And we are certainly not signing off on a Santa Claus list of demands from a man who bombs our cities nightly.
If I sound firm, it is because survival requires clarity. If I sound emotional, it is because this is about human lives, not political optics. And if I sound diplomatic, it is because I ask God to steady my voice before every word.

PS. As much as I struggle even looking at the two men in the photos of this post, I want the world — and history — to remember exactly who sat at the table drafting a “peace plan” that demands Ukraine’s surrender while missiles fall on our cities and we dig kids from under the rubble. Let their names be recorded for what they chose to support, and let the truth speak for itself.