Society

Ukraine's most vulnerable make a hard, costly escape from occupation

Stroke survivors, pregnant women and the paralyzed are now the ones fleeing Russian occupation, and the road out has never been harder.

People with disabilities and limited mobility flee the occupation and the war in Ukraine in search of medical care in the European Union. Warsaw, February 8, 2026. [Olha Hembik/Kontur]
People with disabilities and limited mobility flee the occupation and the war in Ukraine in search of medical care in the European Union. Warsaw, February 8, 2026. [Olha Hembik/Kontur]

by Olha Hembik |

A golf cart now carries people too frail to walk the final stretch out of Russian-occupied Ukraine. For elderly evacuees, stroke survivors, pregnant women and people with disabilities, that last leg -- under a mile on foot -- can be the hardest part of a journey that already spans two countries and up to a month on the road.

Many wait until the last possible moment to attempt it, enduring months without medical care under occupation before fleeing only when staying becomes life-threatening.

The only road out

The route runs through Russia and Belarus and can take anywhere from several days to a month. For the past two years, the Mokrany-Domanove checkpoint in Ukraine's Volyn region has been the sole entry point back into Ukraine from Belarus. In 2024, officials closed the Kolotilovka-Pokrovka humanitarian corridor in the Sumy region after intense shelling made it too dangerous for civilians to cross.

More than 4,000 Ukrainians, including about 200 children, have used the Mokrany-Domanove crossing since the start of 2026.

Leaving everything they own behind in the occupied territories, Ukrainians evacuate to safer regions of the country and then head to Europe. The trip can last from several days to a month. Warsaw, March 20, 2025. [Olha Hembik/Kontur]
Leaving everything they own behind in the occupied territories, Ukrainians evacuate to safer regions of the country and then head to Europe. The trip can last from several days to a month. Warsaw, March 20, 2025. [Olha Hembik/Kontur]

The checkpoint functions as a one-way corridor out of Belarus. Border officials accept any Ukrainian documents, including expired papers or photocopies. Those holding a Russian passport who lost their Ukrainian identity papers must first apply in Minsk for a "white passport" return certificate, a process that takes two weeks to a month. Some Ukrainians have died in Belarusian hospitals while waiting for the document to arrive.

Volunteers say Belarusian border screenings can last up to an hour per person. Once through, evacuees still face roughly 1.5 kilometers (0.9 miles) of paved road to reach the Ukrainian side -- a walk that can take another hour depending on a person's health, pace and luggage. Volunteers help the elderly and disabled make the crossing, and the newly introduced golf cart now moves those who cannot walk it at all, without drawing scrutiny from Belarusian authorities.

On the Ukrainian side, evacuees can rest, eat and shower right away. Volunteers then drive them to Kovel, a town 77 kilometers (48 miles) from the border, where they get help arranging new Ukrainian identification or European travel documents, along with housing and next steps. Local authorities plan to open a transit center there for people with nowhere else to go, with room for up to 200 residents.

Rising costs, shrinking aid

Rubikus, an international organization that has helped Ukrainians escape the war since it began, says the process grows harder and more expensive every year. The most vulnerable people are only now starting to leave, having held out until their lives were directly threatened. Many arrive with advanced chronic conditions after months without medical care under occupation. At the same time, several European countries are scaling back support programs for Ukrainian refugees or closing their doors to new arrivals.

Despite this, Rubikus says it helped 6,987 people escape the war in 2025, including 1,436 evacuated directly from occupied territory. The group ran 31 evacuation buses on the Lviv-Warsaw route, drawing on 180,000 euros in donations.

Local volunteers manage and fund the leg of the journey through Russia and Belarus themselves. For safety, their European counterparts know them only by their Telegram avatars.

"There are approximately 300 volunteers who rescue Ukrainians from occupied territories, house them, feed them, and help with accommodations and tickets," Agata Malec, a Russian-language teacher who coordinates Rubikus volunteers in Poland, told Kontur. Sanctions make it impossible for volunteers to pay for anything inside Russia itself, she added.

Working inside Russia carries real risk for local volunteers, according to Jan Bryszewski, another Rubikus volunteer. People who help evacuate Ukrainians risk state persecution and can lose their jobs, he told Kontur. Activists in Belarus face the same dangers.

Malec pointed to one of the earliest and most difficult evacuations Rubikus carried out: Oleksandr, a 60-year-old man from the Kharkiv region left paralyzed below the waist after a cluster bomb injured his spine. With no one left at home to care for him, evacuation was his only option. Russian volunteers raised money for a private ambulance and medical staff to drive him to Poland, while Rubikus arranged his entry into the European Union and found a medical facility willing to accept a Russian ambulance crew. After treatment at a hospital in Bielsk Podlaski, Poland, a German ambulance carried him onward to relatives in Germany.

That kind of operation is no longer possible. In late 2025, Russia's Ministry of Justice designated Rubikus an "undesirable organization," barring it from operating on Russian soil.

A bus built for stretchers

In February, Rubikus ran its first "medibus," a bus custom-fitted to carry people with disabilities and bedridden patients. The trip brought 38 people to Warsaw, including 12 with severe disabilities, three with visual impairments, cancer patients, a large family with an infant and a pregnant woman. Ten passengers were over 70, some traveling alone. From Poland, they continued to Finland, Denmark, Norway, Germany and Switzerland. Donations cover every seat, with costs running from 170 to 250 euros per passenger depending on distance.

The overall flow of people leaving Ukraine has dropped sharply since the first year of the full-scale invasion, said Kajetan Jan Wróblewski, who coordinates the Asymetryści Foundation. But the workload for volunteers hasn't eased, he said, because those still leaving are mostly vulnerable people in urgent need of medical care, even as financial support for refugees shrinks across the European Union, including in Poland.

"The war doesn't look at the calendar -- people leave on holidays and weekdays alike. This flow intensifies especially after another wave of heavy shelling. For instance, we observed a sharp spike in evacuation requests after the Russians blew up the Kakhovka HPP," Wróblewski told Kontur.

The Asymetryści Foundation partners with Helping to Leave, a Ukrainian charity that evacuates people from front-line areas and assists internally displaced people, including those fleeing occupied regions. Helping to Leave refers the most severe medical cases to Poland, where local volunteers handle the next legs of the journey.

Rubikus is now organizing a direct minibus route from Ukraine to Copenhagen. Fitted with specialized reclining seats, it will carry two paralyzed women and their companions away from the conflict zone.

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