Daria Bogatova (GRS’29,’29) and Dmytro Bogatov (GRS’22,’22) say the February 2022 invasion of Ukraine by Russian forces is a moment they’ll never forget. Their dog, HIMARS, is named for the High Mobility Artillery Rocket System, a weapon that has been essential to Ukraine’s battle against Russia.

AID FOR UKRAINE

One Year after the Invasion of Ukraine, the War Has Transformed Life for This BU Couple

Daria Bogatova (GRS’29,’29) and Dmytro Bogatov (GRS’22,’22) have launched the nonprofit Mriya to help fellow countrymen

There are some moments in history so earth-shattering that people remember clearly where they were when they heard the news. The assassination of John F. Kennedy, the first moon landing, the 9/11 attacks—for many, these events evoke a flash of memory that delineates a clear before and after. 

For Daria Bogatova (GRS’29,’29) and Dmytro Bogatov (GRS’22,’22), the February 2022 invasion of Ukraine by Russian forces is such an event. The two, who grew up in the country and have family in Kyiv, were in Boston when Ukraine was attacked. Both Boston University students at the time, Bogatov was just months shy of completing his doctoral program in computer science, and Bogatova, who was accepted to BU just two weeks before the invasion, was about to embark on a doctoral program in cell and molecular biology. 

In the weeks leading up to the invasion, they were closely watching and reading US and Ukrainian news coverage of the impending war and checking on social media posts from loved ones in Ukraine, trying to guess when their beloved country might come under siege. 

“I remember watching a press conference with [US Secretary of State] Anthony Blinken just a few days before the invasion,” Bogatov says. “He said that everything was under control. But his face—it was the face of a man about to lose everything.” 

The two were at home in their North End apartment when the news that war had begun broke early on the morning of February 24. In the year since, they have been getting any information they can about the war and what it could mean for them and their families. 

“I don’t think we slept for the first two weeks—at least that’s how it felt,” Bogatova says. 

The invasion escalated quickly. Russian troops forced their way toward Kyiv and Ukraine’s second-largest city, Kharkiv. By March, Russian forces had overtaken the Kherson region. In May, they took over the port city of Mariupal, but not without a fight. 

Early on, Bogatova and Bogatov texted their parents, who were safe, but described a strange and startling new reality. 

“They talked about seeing tanks on their streets and planes flying overhead,” Bogatova says. “They said, ‘We hear missiles exploding in our city.’ But what do brave Ukrainians do? They take videos.” 

These types of citizen photos and videos became crucial tools in the war. Cell phone videos shared online showed the world what was happening in Ukraine in real time and provided an important counternarrative to Russian propaganda. Footage from cell phones and security cameras has also provided essential evidence of war crimes committed by Russian regiments. 

Combined with determined Ukrainian forces, these small acts of rebellion—civilians recording military operations nearby, farmers digging up roads and towing away abandoned Russian military vehicles—added up to Russia facing a formidable enemy. The invasion was neither as swift nor as successful as Russian authorities (or many international experts) thought it would be. Ukraine fought back, but not without a cost. 

“I mean, just imagine this happening here in Boston,” Bogatov says. “We’ve seen thunderstorms, hurricanes, and floods. But can you imagine a building exploding and collapsing right in front of you? People were panicking and scared.” 

In August, Bogatova finally had a chance to visit her family and friends in Ukraine. It was the first time she’d been back since the war started, and the experience, she says, was surreal. 

“In some ways, it was easier there. I felt safer in some ways. There are demolished, broken buildings. But you get used to air raid sounds. And you also have a feeling that you’re really doing something—you’re physically there with your family and really helping them,” Bogatova says. It was a relatively short stay, but it helped her to see her homeland and her family. 

Fortunately, their families and friends have remained unharmed. But it doesn’t mean they’re totally all right, either. 

“They’re physically OK,” Bogatov says. “The missiles never hit them directly. But it’s a very hard thing, psychologically and emotionally.” 

Creating a nonprofit to help their countrymen

Half a world away, Bogatov and Bogatova, back in Boston, felt they had to find some way to help—to act. They attended a few local protests, but that wasn’t enough. They knew their countrymen desperately needed medical and tactical supplies. The couple began raising funds from friends and supporters in Boston, enough to send 250 tourniquets and several military backpacks filled with supplies to Ukrainian soldiers. They shipped the cartons to friends in Poland, who then delivered the donated goods to Ukraine. 

The supplies got where they needed to go, but shipping alone cost $3,500, almost as much as the supplies themselves. The couple realized that just wasn’t sustainable in the long run. Luckily, their BU connections stepped in with a solution.

Their friends in the European Studies Program—part of the Pardee School of Global Studies—suggested that they might be able to get shipping discounts if they created a nonprofit organization to send the supplies, rather than shipping the packages as individuals. So, the couple founded the nonprofit Mriya, named for the Ukrainian cargo ship that was destroyed by Russian troops early in the war. The word also means “dream” in Ukrainian, a fitting name for the enterprise, they thought. 

Then BU School of Law students working in the BU/MIT Startup Law Clinic helped Bogatov and Bogatova file articles of incorporation, pro bono. The pair also created PayPal and Venmo accounts associated with the organization. By May, Mriya was up and running. 

At first, donations came from friends and other Ukrainian students, but soon word spread, and young people from across BU, as well as from MIT, Harvard, Tufts, Northeastern, Northwestern, and the University of Chicago, were sending in donations. Students held bake sales and donated the proceeds to Mriya. A Ukrainian grandmother living in the United States knitted balaclavas and donated them to Mriya to send to soldiers in her home country. 

“Ukrainians always pitch in to help,” Bogatov says, crediting their fierce pride and nationalism. “At this point, there is no Ukrainian who’s not helping. But the people here—Americans and other international students—also just wanted to help. They were looking for places to volunteer or donate, and we simply aggregated all these efforts.” 

To date, their nonprofit has raised nearly $50,000 in donations. They’ve sent hundreds of tourniquets and metal chest plates to soldiers fighting in the field and generators and other supplies to various hospital and medical groups. Bogatov and Bogatova rely on friends and contacts in Ukraine who work with military operations or aid organizations on the ground to find out what they need. 

More than once, one or both of them have had to track down a parcel stuck in customs and negotiate with Polish authorities to get it across the border. “You call up all the Polish you have, and try your best,” Bogatova says. 

It’s a full-time job, piled on top of a demanding PhD course load in Bogatova’s case, and a busy IT job at Amazon in Bogatov’s case. But the work fuels them. 

“It’s hard. It’s been hard. I don’t have anything more eloquent to say in that regard,” Bogatova says. “But for me, volunteering is something that’s vital to keep me going. Because otherwise, I’m just reading the news and doing nothing but worrying. It’s a privilege to be here, to study at one of the best universities, to live under a peaceful sky. But my family, my friends, my country need help. And that’s what I can do.” 

As far as the future? 

“I just hope the war ends,” Bogatova says. “I hope we don’t need to do this anymore.”

To learn more about Mriya, the non-profit they started, or to donate, you can click here.