‘We knew we could work in Ireland, and that was the priority’
Mykola Kuleshov & Viktoriia Horbonos, Lucy Cafe
Just inside the door of Lucy, a new cafe and bakery on Clanbrassil Street in Dublin, is a family photo wall. Among the images is one of the outlet’s namesake Lucy – co-owner Mykola Kuleshov’s grandmother – making Ukrainian dumplings, pyrizhky. The brioche-style buns are stuffed with savoury and sweet fillings, and Kuleshov, raised by his grandmother, learned to make them at her side. This cafe is his love letter to her and his homeland of Ukraine, which he and his wife Viktoriia Horbonos fled in 2023.
The couple were on a long saved-for holiday in Sri Lanka when Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022. “All my family was [in Ukraine],” says Horbonos, through tears, as she remembers the day. “I thought that I was speaking with them for the last time in my life, so I was recording the phone calls.”
She arranged for her mother to take her younger sisters to Romania. The couple changed their flights and flew to Romania, where they stayed for almost a month, before returning to Kyiv with a car packed with medical supplies for a maternity hospital in her hometown of Vinnytsia.
Horbonos has a PhD in law and was working for the state in Kyiv in criminal forensics. Kuleshov, a trained chef, was exempt from fighting as he was the primary carer for his uncle, who has mental health needs.
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They volunteered with charities as much as they could around their jobs and caring duties, living in a high-rise apartment with intermittent electricity, running to shelters when Russia attacked. But as the war continued, the cost of living spiralled above what their salaries could cover and they started to think about moving abroad to work, so they could afford to pay for the care of Kuleshov’s uncle. Because he was exempt from fighting, Kuleshov was allowed to leave Ukraine. But for other men his age, it is difficult to leave.
Among Ukrainian refugees in Ireland, men make up about a quarter, women are a little less than half and children account for the rest, according to the Central Statistics Office. The number has fallen from a peak of more than 120,000 to about 80,000 since the start of the conflict.
Kuleshov had lived for a while in the US before the couple met, working as an engineer on cell towers. When the war started, his former boss offered him a job but there was a delay with his travel authorisation, and while waiting, friends who were already living in Wexford with their young daughter advised them to come to Ireland.
“They told us it was possible to get documents quickly and start working while waiting for US approval,” says Horbonos. “And the people are amazing, county itself absolutely beautiful.
“We didn’t know much about Ireland, but we knew we could work here, and that was the priority.”
The couple arrived in Dublin in June 2023. Horbonos continued to work remotely as a university lecturer in Ukraine and as an HR manager for another organisation. Kuleshov found work in a bakery.
He had always dreamed of owning his own cafe or restaurant, and so they set about making that dream a reality: they sought out suppliers, including a small-scale honey producer in Dublin, for their signature 14-layer honey cake, and started to build a network in the capital’s food scene.
Within nine months of arriving, while they were both working full-time at Five Guys burger restaurant, they began selling Ukrainian baked goods to order, made in their own kitchen.
“We had just moved into a new-build apartment. It was fully compliant with health and safety requirements – washable surfaces, waste management in the building. we bought separate fridge and freezer, and dedicated storage shelves,” says Horbonos.
“We learned from Local Enterprise Office events that it was possible to register a home kitchen with the HSE. After thorough preparation, we passed the inspection and received HSE approval. That was one of the happiest moments of my life – knowing we could start safely and legally from day one.”
They started selling via Deliveroo and at Herbert Park market in Dublin – “we were proud to be the first Ukrainian cuisine operating on Deliveroo in full compliance with regulations” – and finally opened their cafe near Leonard’s Corner on Clanbrassil Street in Dublin 8 this July.
While building Lucy, Kuleshov and Horbonos were among around 65 Ukrainians to participate in an executive education bursary programme aimed at Ukrainians who want to set up businesses here, run by the business school at Trinity College Dublin.
There are no State supports specifically for Ukrainian people to set up businesses, and local Enterprise Offices and charities fill in the gaps. One such organisation is Inner City Enterprise (ICE), a nonprofit in Dublin’s north inner city set up by Evanne Kilmurray to help unemployed people, social enterprises and entrepreneurs get businesses off the ground.
ICE runs about 50 free workshops a year and a range of group and one-to-one support sessions and networking events. Its premises in a former Dublin City Council warehouse also houses a number of small businesses and hosts community events in a bright and colourful networking space, decorated with art by its service users. Currently just the top floor and part of downstairs are in use, but the aim is to fully renovate the large campus, including outbuildings. But at a cost of more than €1 million, it is being done in stages as funding allows.
“We try to go for as many marginalised individuals as we can,” says Kilmurray. This includes entrepreneurial Ukrainians who want to start businesses here. When Russia invaded Ukraine, ICE was one of the first nonprofit organisations to meet the Ukrainian ambassador and offer its services.
Building a network here is a key challenge for Ukrainians, says Kilmurray. “It’s a very different landscape,” she says. “Here it’s a lot smaller [than Ukraine] and it’s all about networking. So I try to get them to adjust to a totally different mindset, to get out there and meet people – it’s all about who you know and who can give you some bit of work and refer you on.”
‘We call it war-life balance. Emotionally, we are there. But physically, we’re here’
Anna Krys, Freedom Beauty
As well as running her own beauty business, Anna Krys, who is from Odesa, does some translation work for ICE to help Ukrainians access its services. When the full-scale invasion began in 2022, she and her husband were visiting the US. They had two options – to stay there or come to Ireland, where Krys had lived from 2015 to 2019 when she was transferred by her employer to work as a consultant in Dogpatch Labs in Dublin. For her, she says, there was no contest: they chose her “second home country”.
At first she wasn’t sure where to begin to look for work. In the midst of their move, she was overdue getting her nails done, and this sparked an idea to open a nail bar offering Ukrainian treatments, and employing other women who had fled to Ireland.
Within three months she had opened U Beauty (now called Freedom Beauty) in George’s Street Arcade in Dublin, where the landlord, Gwen Layden, was offering a rent-free unit for a Ukrainian entrepreneur.
“When people ask me, ‘How did you find this strength to start?’ I believe it’s all about the people who supported me,” says Krys. “And I’m so thankful for them, because they had these big hearts and they wanted to do something nice to support us, our new beginnings.”
Despite not having a background in beauty, Krys upskilled and built the business. The salon has since moved to a larger space on Earlsfort Terrace, and she has partnered on a second branch in Greystones, Co Wicklow. Both salons offer manicures and pedicures (with names such as Glory to Ukraine, Let Us Be and Small Victory), eyelash and eyebrow treatments, and make-up and hairstyling services.
She and her husband also run an NGO, United for Change, which helps other Ukrainians integrate in Ireland. They host workshops and a business bootcamp, with volunteers from multinationals giving presentations on different career paths. She is starting another new business matching pet owners with pet sitters.
[ Ukrainians in Ireland: ‘All of a sudden it’s like you’ve lost interest in us’Opens in new window ]
But it has all taken a toll on Krys. After three years in Ireland, establishing her businesses and watching the war in Ukraine unfold from afar, she began to experience burnout. Her mother and nephew have moved to Ireland, which has helped, but she still has friends and other family members in Ukraine.
“We call it war-life balance,” she says. “Emotionally, we are there. But physically, we’re here.”
A recent accident and subsequent surgery forced her to slow down. With three months of recovery behind her, she and her husband are prioritising time for themselves.
“We started mindful activities again, like planning a vacation, theatre, yoga classes, normal things. Because of the war we had just cut them from our lives because we were like: it’s a war in our country. We can’t rest. People don’t rest in Ukraine. We also will not rest. We will support them. We will support Ukrainians here. But now we understand that first of all, we have to support ourselves.”
‘My baby only needed a calm and happy, smiling mother, and I tried to be that for him’
Olha Zhuravlova, catering
In her home city of Mariupol in eastern Ukraine, Olha Zhuravlova and her husband had a thriving food business when Russia invaded. Originally founders of a small chain of speciality coffee shops and a restaurant, they shifted to catering after the pandemic, cooking for large events such as music and street food festivals, conferences and government events, including for Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelenskiy. It was a time of great excitement, she says, and she got huge enjoyment from her business.
But Mariupol was one of the worst-hit places in Ukraine and the couple, with their children – who were two months old and three years old at the time – fled within days of the first attack.
They lived in City West Hotel in Dublin for a number of months when they first arrived. Zhuravlova missed Ukrainian food, and took a chance that her fellow Ukrainians were missing it too, so she started cooking from the shared kitchens in the hotel. She took orders one day a week, but once word spread that there was a woman making traditional dishes such as borscht – a beetroot soup – and stuffed pancakes, they soon started coming in from another hotel hosting Ukrainians.
She now runs two businesses: one making pre-prepared frozen Ukrainian meals, which are popular with people from all over eastern Europe; and another catering family and business events with boxes of sandwiches, hors d’oeuvres, pastries and other finger food. She is working towards selling her frozen meals in supermarkets.
Mariupol remains under Russian occupation. Zhuravlova’s warehouse and kitchen have been destroyed and any surviving equipment looted. Her parents, brother and in-laws have since joined her in Ireland, after being stuck in Mariupol at first. She says this has helped with the post-traumatic stress of fleeing a war zone; her small children and business also help to keep her mind on the present.
“If you have kids, you just have to try to live for the time – not happy all the time, but as good as you can be, because they are growing,” she says. “They need to play with you, to smile with you. My baby only needed a calm and happy, smiling mother, and I tried to be that for him.”
While they were fleeing the war zone, her eldest child, who understood more of what was going on, had questions: “‘Why do we have to hide in the basement?’, ‘Why are we leaving?’, ‘When are we coming back to get my toys?’ She was already hearing about war from all around us, and I felt it was better that I explain with my words rather than to lie or to leave it to others.
“In those difficult circumstances, we did everything we could to help our children feel safe, protected and loved. We tried to keep their lives as normal as possible, even when everything around us was far from normal.”
She would love to think they might return to Ukraine some day, but it seems like a distant prospect, which becomes increasingly difficult as her children settle here and her business becomes more established.
“Of course we could start again. We have our skills, our experience, but it’s difficult to start from the beginning every time,” she says. “But I know that we could do it once more.”
‘I know we won’t go back. It’s not going to get better’
Anna Komar, interior architect
When she first arrived in Ireland from Kyiv in March 2022 with her husband and three-year-old son, interior architect Anna Komar lived in emergency accommodation. Before the war she had no interest in leaving Ukraine; she had a successful business in the capital working on home renovations, room makeovers and hotels. But when she encountered shooting on the streets in her home city, she decided it was time to go.
After a few months in Spain, the family moved to Ireland, as Komar speaks English and wanted to work as soon as possible. “I really like my business, my job. When people ask what my hobby is – this is my hobby,” she says.
But housing proved a challenge. At first they were placed in a series of hotel rooms around the country with a young Ukrainian woman and her baby. Komar, her husband and her son then secured a house in rural Co Wicklow. While this was a relief, she says, it was challenging to find a job she could reach by public transport. She decided to re-establish her design business, Interio Stylists, instead, but building a network here has been difficult.
Has she dreamt of going back to Kyiv? “I know we won’t go back because I’m a very realistic person ... It’s not going to get better,” she says. “I don’t want to go into those emotions very deeply – all that you miss about home and everything, you will just be stuck, you will freeze yourself.
“I have to push myself. I need to concentrate on the things which are happening now with me. I can’t be responsible for the situation in the world.
“I’m freezing my emotions a lot ... I didn’t cry for maybe a year and a half.”
But the longer she is here, and the more her business grows, the easier it becomes. After finding out about the Ideal Home Show in the RDS, she took a pitch and promoted her work to other designers, artists and potential clients. She has started working on residential projects with architects and construction firms, including a recent project in Dublin 4.
‘There was a lot of help for Ukrainians, which was really nice’
Iryna Bondarenko, dance teacher
Iryna Bondarenko was a 19-year-old student and part-time dance teacher in Dnipro city in central Ukraine when conflict broke out. She fled to Germany with her mother in 2022, but after a few weeks there she decided to strike out on her own and move to Ireland, as she wanted to live in an English-speaking country.
She had never been to Ireland, and arrived on St Patrick’s Day.
“I didn’t know it was a party day,” she says. “I just saw people wearing all green at the airport and I thought: All right, that’s an interesting country.
“But Ireland felt really safe. There was a lot of help for Ukrainians, which was really nice. I was alone and I needed to know that I was not going to be on the streets.”
She lived with a host in Dublin for the first six months, who helped her get settled, meet people and find a dance studio where she could teach: “She was like my second mom.”
She began to share her story and her dancing on social media, ahead of establishing her business, Girls Hub. Working out of a rented studio on Sherriff Street in Dublin, she primarily teaches heel dancing to women – a form that is about connection with the self, and “sensual, feminine energy”, she says.
“It’s for women who have kind of lost themselves in a sense, and they want to reconnect with their body. In a way it’s like yoga. I’m helping women to feel more confident in their bodies.”
She started teaching a few classes a week, while doing a university course in marketing. Within a year her business was thriving and dance was her full-time job.
“I locked myself in the house to do branding, create new social pages, make content. Because I’m Gen Z, it’s easier to do content and I understand that it’s a really good marketing strategy.”
Getting to grips with the Irish taxation system, insurance, fire regulations and renting a commercial space felt like “learning a new language”, says Bonderenko. But she now employs two people and wants to own her own studio.
Between running a business, moving to a new country and trying not to be overwhelmed by the war, she doesn’t get much time to just be a young person enjoying herself, but she wouldn’t change it.
“Honestly, I can’t work for other people. I’ve tried, but I can’t. If I have an idea, I need to make it come true,” she says. “I do travel a lot, so I would say I try to use travelling as a way to sit back and relax. I’m trying not to work all the time because there is always something you can do.”
There is a degree of uncertainty around the immigration status of Ukrainians in Ireland. Most arrivals since Russia’s invasion have been granted temporary protected status, according to a spokesperson for the Department of Justice. This is due to expire next March, but the State is in the process of adopting an EU agreement to extend it until 2027. This gives Ukrainians a residence permit for a year, which is extendable, says the spokesperson, along with access to the labour market.
But what happens after 2027 is unknown, and this creates uncertainty for the thousands of Ukrainian people in Ireland, and the businesses many of them have established. The Department of Justice has supported a harmonised EU-wide approach for Ukrainians exiting temporary protection. The current recommendation, which is still to be negotiated at EU level, is to shift people from temporary protection to another legal status, or support a “smooth and sustainable” return to Ukraine, the spokesperson says. However, the outcome of these negotiations will not be known for some time.
For now, the Ukrainian refugees who wish to build a life in Ireland continue to live with uncertainty.
“Ireland is a magic island. We came here for a few weeks, but fell in love with this island,” says Kuleshov, around the table at Lucy on Clanbrassil Street over honey cake and coffee. “We were happy from the first day we came here.”
“We didn’t feel like strangers,” says Horbonos. “As soon as we started the business, we dreamed of staying here.”
