How Did the 2026 Retreat for Blind Veterans and Their Families Go?

What happens when people who lost their sight because of Russia’s war come together not only to talk about loss, but to talk about life? This was the question participants explored over four days at the Retreat for Blind Veterans and Their Families, held on 6–9 August in the Kyiv region.
Bohdan Ferens
Founder of NGO Progressive&Strong and NGO SD Platform, Retreat Coordinator
Oksana Chub
Senior lecturer Department of Business Economics and Entrepreneurship Kyiv National Economic University named after Vadym Hetman
Blind and low-vision veterans, their family members and accompanying persons, representatives of veterans’ and rehabilitation centres, psychologists, and rehabilitation specialists came together to seek answers to what happens after returning from war: how to go through rehabilitation and regain independence, navigate bureaucracy and access state support, engage in sports and return to work, build relationships and families, make public spaces accessible, and, most importantly, rebuild one’s life.

The event was made possible through cooperation between the NGOs Progressive&Strong and SD Platform and their Swedish partner, the Olof Palme International Center. Thanks to this support, large-scale gatherings for blind and low-vision veterans and their families have now been organised for the second year in a row.

This year, the number of Retreat participants almost doubled compared with last year. For us, this is more than just a number. It is an important sign of the trust that the veteran community and their families place in what we are doing. It also confirms the growing need for spaces where people can feel among peers, support one another, and look for solutions together.
Knowing Who Is Beside You

The Retreat began with introductions. For the blind veteran community, it is particularly important to know who is around you, establish connections, and create an atmosphere of trust. Instead of conventional self-introductions, participants were invited to meet in pairs and then introduce the other person to the group rather than themselves. The format took veterans and their accompanying persons somewhat outside their usual comfort zones, but at the same time helped break the ice quickly and created the conditions for further interactive communication.
The organisers also outlined the purpose of the Retreat: not only to gain new knowledge and practical skills related to rehabilitation, recovery, and returning to independent living, but also to exchange experiences and develop positive practices that could benefit other veterans and their families who have also faced sight loss and the need to rebuild their everyday lives.
Is the State Doing Enough to Support Veterans?

The following day, participants moved on to one of the Retreat’s key topics — state support for veterans with visual impairments. The discussion, “Does the State Prioritise Support for Veterans with Visual Impairments?”, aimed to assess how well state guarantees and services correspond to the actual needs of veterans and their families.
Participants were invited to rate the level of state support based on their own experiences. Most ratings were at the lower end of the scale. One central problem emerged across almost all responses: the gap between rights and guarantees provided by law and people’s actual ability to access them.

This gap affects many areas — from rehabilitation and social support to housing, payments and benefits, public transport, and interactions with state institutions. Participants highlighted complicated procedures, the need to collect numerous documents, insufficient awareness among some public officials of the needs of people with visual impairments, and the lack of adequate support for veterans after they leave hospital.

One illustrative example came from Iryna, the wife of a veteran, who explained that she had spent almost a year trying to get her husband placed on the housing waiting list. Her words, “It exists on paper, but without a legal education…”, captured one of the core problems: even a right guaranteed by the state may remain difficult to access when a person has to navigate complicated procedures and overcome bureaucratic barriers on their own.
Participants also stressed that veterans themselves are not the only ones facing these difficulties. A significant share of the burden — preparing documents, communicating with institutions, finding necessary information, and organising everyday life — effectively falls on family members and accompanying persons. One of the key conclusions of the discussion was therefore that state guarantees alone are not enough. What is also needed is a clear and accessible support system that helps veterans and their families actually exercise their rights and access the services available to them.

The housing issue emerged as a particularly pressing concern. According to participants, the problem is not only the availability of housing itself, but also the complexity of the mechanisms through which veterans can exercise their right to housing.

Participants discussed practical difficulties with the use of housing certificates, including limited timeframes for finding and purchasing suitable accommodation, the reluctance of some sellers to accept certificates, differing interpretations of what qualifies as eligible housing, and insufficient consideration of the actual composition and needs of a veteran’s family, including the presence of minor children.

Participants emphasised that for veterans who have lost their sight as a result of the war, housing is not simply about receiving a certain number of square metres. It must be accessible, safe, and suitable for living as independently as possible. Housing programmes and the procedures for accessing them should therefore better reflect the needs of veterans with war-related disabilities and their families, while being clear, predictable, and workable in practice.
When You Have to Find Help on Your Own

Participants identified access to information and the lack of a clear pathway for veterans after injury as another major challenge. This is particularly acute in smaller towns and communities, where people often simply do not know where to turn, what services and opportunities are available to them, or where to begin the process of rehabilitation and returning to active life.
Today, essential information is scattered across state institutions, local communities, medical and rehabilitation facilities, civil society organisations, and individual initiatives. At the same time, proper coordination and information exchange are often lacking even among those who work directly with veterans. As a result, veterans and their families are effectively forced to find their own way and search independently for solutions to problems that other veterans have already faced.

That is why one of the practical ideas repeatedly raised during the Retreat was the creation of a single accessible information resource for blind and low-vision veterans and their families. It could provide a clear step-by-step pathway: what to do after an injury, where to seek assistance, where to undergo rehabilitation, how to access state guarantees, obtain legal and social support, and find opportunities for education, employment, sports, and active life.
One Step. Then Another

One of the most important parts of the Retreat was the exchange of personal rehabilitation experiences. Veterans’ stories helped demonstrate which approaches already work, what is still missing from the system, and which solutions could benefit others.

Artem BONDAREV shared how, just one week after his injury, a blind woman approached him in hospital and began teaching him how to move around independently. It started with a few steps, then leaving the room, and later progressed to travelling independently on public transport, going to the shop, and navigating everyday environments.

These practical skills gradually help a person regain independence while reducing their constant reliance on family members. Participants therefore stressed that rehabilitation and basic skills training should begin while a veteran is still receiving medical treatment, rather than only after discharge, when they are left to search for the necessary information and specialists on their own.
Another important example was the story of Pavlo, a veteran who lost his sight as a result of the war and has upper-limb amputations. During the early stages of rehabilitation, he was not offered a practical solution that would allow him to use both a prosthesis and a white cane. Together with his friend Ivan, he therefore developed a way to do it themselves.
“There is a solution!” became one of the key messages of the discussion. Veterans are already developing practical solutions to the challenges they encounter after injury. The task now is to ensure that this experience does not remain confined to individual stories but is shared with other veterans and rehabilitation professionals and gradually becomes part of systemic rehabilitation practice.
“We Can Do More Than We Imagine”

Another story came from Maksym BONDARENKO from the Cherkasy region. After being injured in 2022, his life was divided into a “before” and an “after”. It took him a year and a half to start using a white cane, largely thanks to the support of his wife. Then a new chapter began: joining a team where most members were blind, playing guitar, studying psychology, ice skating, indoor skydiving, new interests, and new challenges. “We can do more than we imagine”, he said. This simple idea became one of the leitmotifs of all four days of the Retreat.
A separate focus of the Retreat was sport and its role in rehabilitation and returning to active life. Ruslan AFANASIEV shared how, after a long recovery, he began trying different activities — kayaking, archery, swimming, yoga, and stretching.
Artur MARTOSICH from Fastiv found his passion in powerlifting. Other participants shared their experiences of running with a guide, swimming, dancing, and tandem cycling. For some, regular physical activity also became an incentive to change other habits — one veteran said that running had helped him quit smoking.
During the Retreat, participants had an opportunity not only to discuss the role of sport in recovery but also to try different forms of physical activity themselves. For some, it was their first such experience since being injured; for others, it was a chance to try something new and see for themselves that sight loss does not mean giving up an active life.

That is why adaptive sport should be seen not simply as a leisure activity, but as an important part of rehabilitation for blind and low-vision veterans — a way to restore physical fitness, independence, and self-confidence, overcome internal barriers, and return to active life.

Denys shared that for almost a year he struggled to accept the need to use a white cane. The turning point came when he walked about two kilometres independently — and realised that he could keep moving forward. “The cane is your eyes”, he said. Behind this simple phrase lies an important experience: accepting the white cane not as a symbol of limitation, but as a tool for independence.
Oleksandr, who has both visual and hearing impairments, also shared his story. He recalled his first attempts to walk independently along a corridor, the severe fatigue, and using two walking sticks instead of a properly selected white cane. Today, his experience includes swimming in the sea and in a pool, making new friends, and achieving a much greater degree of independence. Stories like these once again demonstrate how important it is for orientation and mobility training to become available to veterans as early as possible and to be provided with the support of trained professionals.
Participants were particularly moved by the story of Veronika — the youngest participant in the Retreat and the only woman among the veterans. She went to the frontline while in her final year of medical school.

Her mother, Nataliia, shared the family’s experience following Veronika’s injury. In particular, she highlighted how difficult it can be to find information independently about rehabilitation, specialists, and available support. The family, for example, learned about Trinity Hub through Facebook. Their experience once again illustrated a problem raised by other participants: the support that veterans and their families need should not depend on a chance social media post, a recommendation from an acquaintance, or personal persistence.
That is why participants repeatedly proposed creating a unified registry of veterans with visual impairments, together with a clear system for providing information about available services, rehabilitation opportunities, and support programmes.

Veronika’s story also highlighted how important it is to focus not only on veterans themselves, but also on their families. After an injury, family members often go through the difficult journey of treatment, rehabilitation, searching for information, and returning to everyday life alongside the veteran.

Nataliia captured this experience in one of the most powerful statements of the Retreat: “They came back, and that is when our war began. They stood up for us, and now we stand up for them”.

These words explain why support for families must be an integral part of veterans’ policy and rehabilitation. It is not only about providing assistance to the veteran, but about creating conditions in which veterans and their loved ones can rebuild lives that are as independent and active as possible.
“Living Library”: Accessibility and Guide Dogs

A special format of the Retreat was the “Living Library”. Instead of traditional lectures, participants worked in small groups with “living books” — people with practical, first-hand experience whom they could ask questions directly, discuss specific situations with, and move from one thematic “book” to another.

One of these “books” was Anna BOIKOVA, who has been blind for 14 years and leads a civil society organisation. She spoke about guide dogs: how dogs are selected and trained, how a person and a dog are introduced and adapt to one another, and the role a guide dog can play in the everyday life of a blind person. She emphasised an important point: a guide dog is not a robot, but first and foremost a living being with whom a person builds trust and cooperation. For a blind veteran, a guide dog can be not only an aid to mobility but also an important part of a more independent life. At the same time, participants noted that opportunities to train and obtain guide dogs in Ukraine remain limited.
Another “living book” was Yaroslav, who has been blind for more than 30 years and works on orientation, mobility, and accessibility issues. One of his main messages was that accessibility should not be viewed as infrastructure designed exclusively for people with disabilities. An accessible and safe environment makes everyday life easier for everyone — people with visual impairments, parents with pushchairs, older people, and anyone moving around a city. Accessibility is therefore not about creating special conditions for one particular group, but about the quality of the environment shared by society as a whole.
Relationships and Family Are Also Part of Recovery

Another discussion, led by Tetiana from the Trinity Hub rehabilitation centre, focused on an aspect that often remains outside the traditional understanding of veterans’ rehabilitation — love, relationships, and changes within the family after an injury.

Participants discussed the importance of support from loved ones, but also the risks of overprotection. After an injury, established family roles, everyday routines, and levels of dependence on one another may change. It is therefore important to learn how to support a veteran without taking away their ability to make decisions independently, try new things, make mistakes, and regain control over their own life.
The experiences of Retreat participants themselves gave particular meaning to this discussion. Among them were couples who met and started families after injury, during the difficult period of treatment and recovery. Their stories demonstrate another important dimension of rehabilitation: returning to active life is not only about medical treatment, independent living skills, or employment. It is also about the opportunity to build close relationships, fall in love, start a family, and plan for the future.

An equally important part of the Retreat was what happened outside the formal discussions: the swimming pool, sauna, the sea, tandem cycling, partner dancing, evening conversations, songs, and laughter. For some, it was their first bicycle ride or first swim after being injured; one participant danced a waltz with her husband for the first time. For veterans and their loved ones, it was also an opportunity to take a few days away from hospitals, paperwork, and everyday responsibilities.

The team gained new experiences as well: its members tried navigating with a white cane and running blindfolded with a guide.

On the final day, participants most often spoke about support, new connections, new experiences, and a sense of community. One participant summed it up: “I think we made it work. We should not stop here. We need to stay together and keep sharing our experiences”.
What Comes Next?

The end of the Retreat became an opportunity to discuss the next steps. Participants stressed that the experience gained should not remain limited to these four days. Proposals included creating a permanent platform for communication and exchange of experience, an accessible information base on rehabilitation and support, regular meetings, the development of leadership and political participation among blind and low-vision veterans, and the establishment of an organisation that could unite the community and represent its interests.
Participants also discussed the need to make the Blind Community March on White Cane Day an annual, nationwide initiative, bringing together veterans and civil society organisations from cities across Ukraine. Strengthening the community’s voice in dialogue with the state, European partners, and policymakers was also identified as an important priority.

Another practical direction could be the development of a specialised educational course for educators and veterans. It could help universities and other educational institutions better understand the needs of blind and low-vision veterans, as well as veterans with other disabilities, and create more accessible learning environments. At the same time, veterans themselves need greater opportunities to pursue further education, develop professional skills, and gain new qualifications — enabling them to return to professional and public life.
Blind and low-vision veterans are not asking others to live their lives for them. What they need are the conditions for independence: quality rehabilitation, accessible services and education, opportunities to work, engage in sport, travel, start families, and influence decisions that directly affect their lives.

“When one person speaks about a problem, they may not be heard. When a community speaks, its voice becomes much harder to ignore”.

These words by Maksym LIOZOV, a blind veteran and Hero of Ukraine, resonated deeply with us and became one of the motivations to continue along this path. Today, a community is forming around this idea — one that is ready not only to speak about problems, but to find solutions together, support one another, and advocate for the changes that are needed.
When Light Becomes a Shared Strength

The four days of the Retreat demonstrated one essential point: sight loss does not mean losing the possibility of living independently, studying, working, engaging in sport, travelling, building relationships, and actively participating in society.

At the same time, participants’ personal stories showed how much depends not only on a veteran’s own determination, but also on how accessible and responsive the system around them is. Timely and high-quality rehabilitation, clear information about services and state guarantees, accessible education and employment, adaptive sport, barrier-free environments, and support for families are all essential.
It is equally important to strengthen the community of blind and low-vision veterans itself. The experience of those who have already travelled part of this path can help those who are only beginning their recovery after injury. This is why “Light Within” is becoming more than the name of a Retreat — it is a space for exchanging experience, mutual support, and building a collective voice.
Life does not end with sight loss. Our shared responsibility is to create the conditions in which no one has to navigate this new path alone.
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20.08.2026
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