Narrow escape

When Esther Joy Thomas took to the streets of Kingston with her mom and two younger sisters last Saturday, it was the first time she was venturing out of her home since escaping Ukraine and reuniting with her family on February 20, three days before a war broke out.

Esther was among more than 40 Jamaican students studying medicine in Ukraine, having started a six-year degree at a university there in November 2021.

But her deferred dream of becoming a paediatric surgeon is now a subplot of a wider geopolitical drama pitting the invading forces of Russia against Ukrainian fighters now emboldened by the groundswell of support from NATO and the United States.

Even though Esther is thousands of miles away from Kharkiv, Ukraine's second-largest city which has been transformed into a war zone, she still doesn't have the anticipated peace of mind.

Mother Keisha Ann Thomas said said she was only able to woo her daughter out of her cocoon with the promise of a relaxing drive with family and the pledge of curried goat patties from the public park at Devon House.

“That's how I got her out of the house ... because she hasn't been out, but has been on her phone talking to her friends, trying to make sure everybody got where they needed to go safely,” Thomas disclosed, adding that the 20-year-old has sought to avoid media attention.

Esther's anxiety is easing as 24 Jamaican students have made their way to the Polish city Krakow. One other has crossed into Romania while three remain in Ukraine.

“She is consumed because her friends are left behind in the turmoil that is going on. She has been on the phone every day monitoring their moves to bomb shelters and from bomb shelters to trying to get on the train,” Thomas said in a Gleaner interview on the weekend.

“She has been in the belly of it, even though she is not there. She is highly stressed because you can imagine that she feels very close to the situation, given that she literally just had a narrow escape.”

Thomas said that she, too, has been on tenterhooks, feeling, subliminally, the pain of Jamaican parents whose children were still in the war zone.

“Even though my daughter is here, I am carrying such a burden for the parents whose children are on the move, and the fact that my daughter is monitoring their every move in Ukraine, I feel very much a part of it.

“ ... My daughter will always one of them who just happened to leave early enough on my instructions because I decided I wasn't going to take a chance,” she added.

Thomas, who had taken active interest in Ukraine since her daughter went there to study, had been monitoring events and stayed in touch with the Jamaican Embassy in Berlin and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Foreign Trade.

But she wasn't willing to wait for any assistance from the Government, choosing instead to seize the moment.

The then distraught mother said she had to reel out “a bag o' money” - approximately US$2,900 (J$450,000) - in last-minute arrangements for airfare and accommodation in what turned out to be a seven-day journey.

“My family jumped in because we had to get her into hotels in different countries, including Panama and Turkey. ... It was a happy but subdued homecoming in light of unfolding events,” Thomas told The Gleaner.

It's the financial sacrifice that she and other parents have had to bear why the social-media firestorm erupted last week about travel costs for the stranded students in Ukraine.

She insists that many of the students opted to study in Eastern Europe because tuition fees for medicine in Kingston are eight times more expensive than the US$3,500 charged in Ukraine.

That fee shuts out dozens of otherwise qualifed students every year, a crisis that is set to escalate as government subventions to The University of the West Indies decline.

Esther graduated from Immaculate High, the prestigious all-girls' school in St Andrew, with 16 subjects across the Caribbean Secondary Education Certificate and Caribbean Advanced Proficiency Examination.

When Esther first broached the subject of studying in Ukraine, her mother's reaction was understandable.

“I said, 'Are you kidding me? Ukraine? No,” Thomas said.

That should have been the end of that argument. However, the harsh realities of their finances dictated otherwise. In the end, Thomas said she did not want to stand in her daughter's way.

“Our students mostly decided to move to Ukraine to study because it presented an affordable alternative to the ridiculously high fees for studying medicine here in Jamaica, the Caribbean, or even in the US,” said Thomas.

“Did we know the region was volatile? Yes. Were we prepared to deal with that? We thought so. Did we care about the safety of our children? Yes! But we were willing to take a chance to help them live their dream of becoming something, in this case a doctor,” she wrote in a letter to The Gleaner that preceded Saturday's interview.

And it was the risk of losing that chance at her degree why Esther and dozens of other Jamaican students were hesitant to head home, even as the war drums beat louder and louder.

Esther's visa had expired just a week before she left and her residency status was still not approved. She was fined by immigration on her way out of Ukraine.

Thomas disclosed that a number of options had been afforded her daughter, as well as half-scholarships from a number of universities in the United States of America, including Leo and Barry universities. However, even with partial financial assistance, that would not have been feasible.

Esther had also received an offer for acceptance from St George's University in Grenada.

“At the time I still would not have been able to afford to fund the other half. It is the reason we took the decision to send her to Ukraine because we needed to make sure that we not only got her started but could offer her the security of completing the programme,” said Thomas.

“I consider myself a fighter. I am not one to ask for alms but I want to see my daughter realise her dream and I believe in working for everything that you need.”

christopher.serju@gleanerjm.com