The Three After Midnight Museum in the Dark: how visually impaired guides lead tours, make coffee, and break down stereotypes

When a person finds themselves in total darkness, the first thing they feel is stupor and confusion. Then, following prompts, they begin to master the situation, orienting themselves by touch, hearing, and smell. Everything here is unfamiliar. Ordinary places — a ‘street,’ an ‘apartment,’ a ‘park’ — become foreign and full of challenges. To navigate the route, one needs the advice of someone accustomed to living in the dark: a guide with vision impairments.

This is how tours unfold at the Three After Midnight Museum in the Dark, which not only offers visitors new impressions but also challenges stereotypes about people with visual impairments. Its name signifies three o'clock in the morning — the darkest time of day. Over eight years of operation, more than 85,000 people have attended tours at the Kyiv and Lviv branches. Meanwhile, the 03:00 Foundation, which emerged from the museum, works to expand inclusion in Ukrainian society and create new opportunities for people with vision impairments.

One of them was launched with the support of the House of Europe. Guides working at the museum were offered the opportunity to learn how to make coffee using professional equipment to master the profession of barista. In the future, the training and internship program will be available to other people with visual impairments.

Alina Marnenko, founder of the Museum in the Dark, told Hromadske how the project turned from a hobby into her life's work, why it took so long to launch the Lviv branch, how the idea of making coffee in the dark came about, and why the social mission of this project is so important.

‘In the dark, everyone comes to their own conclusions.’

It all started when Alina Marnenko, working in IT, was looking for a ‘project for the soul.’ She wanted to create an escape room that would let people truly immerse themselves in another world. Alina and her friends came up with a script and concept and began investing the money they had earned in IT.

But then Alina's partners went abroad, went on a tour in the dark, and came back with impressions that changed their plans. They realised that quests, however interesting they may be, lack depth and long-term meaning. A museum in the dark combines two things: entertainment and a strong social impact.

‘I'm not a fan of lectures or sermons,’ Alina explains. ‘Coming to people and preaching to them how to live is an ineffective approach. But in a museum in the dark, everything happens organically, naturally, and everyone comes to their own conclusions.’

Before opening the museum, Alina Marnenko quit her day job, planning to return once everything was organised. The museum's co-founders saw it as a hobby that would only require temporary involvement. It turned out differently: the project has been her main occupation for eight years now.

It was obvious to Alina that people with visual impairments should be the guides at the museum. She had no personal experience working with people with visual impairments, so she turned to an organisation that helps people with these issues.

‘I went to the Ukrainian Association of the Blind. I arrived at the meeting and realised the director was also blind, which made sense but surprised me. He said that I was not the first person to come up with this idea, but no one had ever launched such a museum. He added that the idea was great, but in his opinion, only people with visual impairments would have enough motivation to implement something like this,’ she recalls.

However, the association’s head shared the contact details of people with visual impairments. They were invited to focus groups and brainstorming sessions. There, they expressed witty and even harsh ideas, such as leaving manholes open on the museum floor. Alina realised that behind these jokes were real problems that people with visual impairments face every day.

Several focus group participants volunteered to be museum guides. Alina recruited others through advertisements and personal contacts. The selection process was difficult: not every person with a visual impairment was ready to work as a guide. This job is stressful, emotional, and requires responsibility for the group. For the founder, it was important that each guide shared the project's values. After all, the guides, together with management, participate in creating new formats, testing them, and setting the tone for the entire project.

‘I Can't Explain What It Was Like, Just Come’

The first paradox the team encountered was that the museum was supposed to break down stereotypes about people with visual impairments, yet it was precisely those stereotypes that kept people away. Alina Marnenko says many people were afraid to interact. They imagined that the tour would turn into a story of the guide's suffering. When they came, they were surprised: the guides joked, laughed, and told entertaining stories.

The museum has several locations from everyday life. ‘It was important to recreate each one very realistically,’ explains Alina. ‘People need to feel the sounds, temperature, and smells. That's why, for example, we have real cobblestones on the street and traffic lights. The guide gives certain tasks, but they are organic: first, they cross the road, then they find something, then they go somewhere. These tasks are designed to draw people's attention to important things — for example, they bump into something parked on the sidewalk and understand what a problem this is for people with visual impairments.’

She says that the first minute when a person is plunged into darkness is a shock to their brain. It takes time to start perceiving information through other senses and to try to do familiar things without visual guidance. By getting rid of stereotypes about blind people and putting themselves in their shoes, people feel a strong emotional connection with the guides. ‘The roles are reversed: while we usually perceive people who cannot see as people who need help, in the dark, visitors rely on the guide, and they are the ones who need help and have to learn to entrust themselves. Many people end up hugging after spending an hour and a half together in the dark,’ says Alina.

Promoting Ukraine's first museum in the dark was not easy: people did not understand what it was, mistook it for an escape room, and thought it would be boring. Word of mouth worked best: those who had already been on the tour advised others, ‘I can't explain what it was like, just come.’

From museum to foundation

Over the years, the museum began offering more than just tours. Street walks, dates in the dark, quests, and master classes were introduced. At the same time, the social aspect evolved: the museum focused on accessibility, training rehabilitation specialists, and expanding opportunities for people with visual impairments.

When the full-scale war began, Alina Marnenko initially thought that the museum would have to close: leisure activities seemed inappropriate. But people wanted meaningful experiences and opportunities to take their minds off the situation. In addition, more and more people were losing their sight due to the fighting, and Ukraine lacked quality rehabilitation. Therefore, in 2022, Alina officially registered the 03:00 Foundation.

The foundation focused on creating opportunities for people with visual impairments and improving accessibility. Alina's fundamental approach is not just to engage in charity, but to create opportunities. ‘All people with visual impairments are offered to become massage therapists or assemble clothespins in basements,’ she explains. ‘This is the wrong approach, because people with visual impairments, just like sighted people, are all different. They want to do different things. That is why we are creating different opportunities: sports, education, culture, and services. Everyone should be able to choose what they like.’

The museum has remained a social enterprise and a tool for changing attitudes because people leave the tours with a desire to change the world around them.

‘Every time, some kind of apocalypse happens’

In 2019, when the museum in Kyiv had already been operating for several years, the idea of a branch in Lviv emerged. The team announced the opening and began searching for premises. The plan was disrupted by the COVID-19 pandemic, which forced the temporary closure of the Kyiv space. Unlike other cultural institutions, the museum in the dark could not simply move online. However, they found a way out. ‘We launched online interactive activities with our guides for children. Then we organised a street walk. And in August, we reopened the space,’ Alina recalls.

In 2021, the team was preparing to launch again, only to be interrupted by the beginning of the full-scale invasion. ‘We joked that every time we announce an opening in Lviv, some kind of apocalypse happens,’ laughs the museum director. Now the team had a plan to move the Kyiv museum to Lviv.

In June 2022, Alina found premises at 8 Lychakivska Street in Lviv and began renovations, with the opening planned for the fall. But in the fall, Russia began attacking power plants. ‘Opening a museum in the dark during blackouts was a bad idea,’ says Alina Marnenko. ‘People didn't like the darkness. Guided tours in Kyiv were also suspended. It was a very difficult situation: I had two rented premises, a large team to support, and none of the museums were open.’

To survive, the guides began making and selling beeswax candles. This helped them get through the difficult times and keep the team together, and artisanal wax products remained a hallmark of Three After Midnight. When the situation stabilised, the Lviv branch was opened, and the Kyiv branch resumed operations.

A Lviv café in the dark

In Lviv, the team began to work more with new formats: dates in the dark, street walks, and events. ‘There is this location called “cafe”,’ Alina says. ‘I really wanted to recreate a real Lviv coffee shop. We tried different options, considered capsule coffee machines, but that's not the right level.’ During another brainstorming session, someone asked if the guides could make coffee right on the tour using professional equipment. The team found partners — Campus Coffee School — to test the accessibility of all stages of coffee making for the blind.

‘And here we discovered that it is not just accessible, but that blind people are often more attentive to sensory details. Baristas often rely on the visual component, but in reality, for example, when you whip milk, it is important to control the temperature with your hand, not just look at the foam. A lot has to be analysed by sound. Our guides were enthusiastic about the idea and began to encourage us to implement it,’ says Alina.

Thanks to a grant from the House of Europe, the Three After Midnight museum in the dark in Kyiv set up a professional coffee corner. The barista school held training right in the museum, and each participant had to prepare many drinks to build their skills. At the same time, they gathered a community of baristas who came to train the participants and share their experience.

Six of the seven Kyiv guides wanted to learn. Now, each of them is interning at a separate coffee shop. And if they wish, they can continue their cooperation in the future. Alina says that the first group was a pilot group, whose task was to test the training program, its duration, and the internship process. Based on the results, a final programme will be developed and a group recruited for employment. ‘Next, we plan to expand this project to other cities, including Lviv,’ says the museum director. ‘I have already spoken with coffee shop chains, and they are interested. There is also demand from people with visual impairments who would like to learn a new trade.’

One hundred cups of cappuccino

Viktoriia Shevchuk has been working as a guide at the Museum in the Dark for over eight years. For her, this job is a way to show people her own life. Many visitors come to the museum ‘just to have fun,’ says Viktoriia, but they still leave with a new experience: ‘they start asking questions, realising things they hadn't thought about before.’

Once, a girl approached Viktoriia in the subway, offered her help in the right way, and said that she had learned this during a visit to the Museum in the Dark. ‘It was clear that she was doing this for the first time, but she knew how to ask the right questions and how to help. I was very touched,’ recalls the guide.

When the opportunity to train as a barista came up, Viktoriia Shevchuk jumped at it. ‘I love learning and discovering new things,’ she says. ‘Besides, it was interesting: why is coffee different in different cafes, and what should it be like? I had no idea what a professional coffee machine was. I thought it was something simple: just press a button and that's it. But it turned out to be quite complicated.’

While the guides were practising, Viktoriia went to a rehabilitation centre where she works with soldiers who have lost their sight. When she returned, each student had already prepared 20 cups of cappuccino. In total, they had to prepare 100 cups. She had to catch up.

The biggest challenge was learning how to froth milk. ‘People who can see can look at it, but I have to understand it by the sound and feel in my hands,’ explains Viktoriia. ‘I thought I would never learn how to froth milk properly. When I pour it, I can feel by the weight that it’s enough.’

Once she had finished her training, Viktoriia began an internship at the Campus Coffee café on Poshtova Square in Kyiv. ‘I really enjoy making coffee, especially cappuccino. It's incredible when you serve people, and they enjoy it. I stood behind the bar and realised: I really like this,’ she says. Viktoriia has not yet decided whether she will pursue both her work as a guide and as a barista, but she considers this experience to be important.

Alina says that making coffee can be not only an additional job and a way for people with visual impairments to socialise, but also a powerful public example. After all, when visitors see a barista with visual impairments in a coffee shop, it breaks down stereotypes.

Support that enables change in society

The project to train guides with visual impairments to become baristas was one of the winners of the Creative Business Boost open call, held by House of Europe for the second year in a row. Its goal is to support creative businesses that need to change, strengthen, or develop new areas, and to create conditions for their growth.

Grant manager Oleksandr Drachuk says that the second wave of the program was launched in the spring of 2025 and received 249 applications. ‘The Museum in the Dark passed all stages of selection, which was carried out by an independent jury of 12 experts — representatives of various creative industries with experience in evaluating grant applications,’ says the manager. ‘Their task was to assess the maturity of the business, its growth potential, and the feasibility of its planned activities. The 15 businesses that scored the highest became participants.’

The support included not only funding but also consultations with Ukrainian experts and participation in an international webinar featuring experts from Denmark, Germany, Italy, and Sweden. The project results showed that working with mentors helps entrepreneurs review their business plans and strategies, understand how to move forward, and survive in the market during difficult times.

According to Oleksandr Drachuk, the grant yielded several tangible results for the Museum in the Dark. ‘First, they purchased coffee-making equipment that people with visual impairments can use to train and work. It will continue to be used. Second, they set up internships for baristas with visual impairments at coffee shops in Kyiv. Third, they created an inclusive space for baristas to learn and work,’ the manager lists. ‘The House of Europe team is pleased that the Museum in the Dark has been able to use the grant money effectively and get the most out of participating in the project. Most importantly, this is not a one-off project: the museum will continue this idea as a permanent part of its business.’

House of Europe's priorities include equal opportunities, inclusion, working with ethnic minorities, and more. According to Oleksandr, promoting inclusion in the creative sector has great potential, though the challenges are many as well. ‘I want to believe that people are becoming more attentive to each other, more tolerant,’ says the House of Europe representative. ‘It is good that there are programmes that support not abstract ideas, but real projects that are already working and can serve as examples of how to develop honest and responsible business.’

This material was created as part of the Goals That Hold Up special project, which tells the story of the House of Europe's achievements over the past year through personal stories.

Two weeks of construction, followed by concerts, performances, and parties, and then back to erecting walls. This is how the Some People Centre for New Culture is being built under Russian shelling in Kharkiv, the largest cultural centre closest to the front line. The Some People community in Kharkiv is a circle of like-minded people who work with Ukrainian subcultures, street fashion, music, and media. At various times, they launched and developed the Sneaker Mate sneaker dry cleaning network, the Ssweep streetwear brand alliance, the Rap.ua portal, and the Tysk electronic formation.

After the full-scale invasion began, they had to start from scratch. One of the community's key locations in central Kharkiv, which housed a dry cleaner, workshops, and media offices, was destroyed during a Russian missile strike. In 2023, the city's cultural life almost came to a standstill, says Some People co-founder Anton Nazarko. Together with a group of like-minded people, he is now rebuilding a large multifunctional cultural centre at his own expense. Nazarko told Hromadske how he manages to nurture culture in a frontline city.

Concerts amidst construction

In the second year of full-scale war, hundreds of thousands of people remained in Kharkiv, but there were hardly any concerts, club events, or performances.

‘If culture completely disappears in a city as large as Kharkiv, stagnation begins. And once stagnation takes root, it may remain for decades,’ says Anton Nazarko. It was then that the team decided to create a Centre for New Culture in a city living under shelling.

They found an abandoned space in an industrial area that used to be a machine-building factory. ‘We didn't have two or three years to build it, like in European capitals. We needed to restart cultural life right now,’ says Nazarko.

So, in 2023, the Some People Centre for New Culture began to take shape on the site of the former factory. They decided to continue building it while holding

events. Two weeks of construction: concrete, bags of cement, new walls. Then, a pause — everything gets cleaned up, and an underground concert, electronic party, or performance by the Nafta independent theatre is held. Then they continue building, all under Russian airstrikes.

‘We have been working like this for two and a half years. We are still building, but we are also holding events,’ explains Nazarko.

They started construction with virtually no resources. ‘We didn't even have money for the first and last month's rent. We sold our cars, took out loans, and started building using our personal money,’ explains the co-founder.

The team took this risk knowingly.

They decided to look for support later. ‘Those who are already doing something on their own, not just talking about plans, get assistance,’ says the centre's co-founder.

Why Kharkiv needed this

Nazarko and his teammates saw that Kharkiv was changing and being rebuilt.

‘A city is not just bricks and mortar. It's how people interact with each other. The old social contract was destroyed by the war. Social ties were either severed or changed. And now a new Kharkiv is taking shape,’ he says.

The team decided to influence what the city would be like after the war.

In 2023, there were several active cultural centres in Kharkiv, says Nazarko. In addition to Some People, these included the Nafta Theatre, the Lyuk media outlet, the Trypichchia restaurant, the Arriba creative agency, the Literary Museum, the Yermilov Center contemporary art centre, and other independent initiatives related to music and media. According to Nazarko, it was these grassroots communities that revived the city's cultural life.

According to the co-founder of Some People, since the start of the full-scale war, Kharkiv residents have been much more active in defending their rights, opposing illegal construction, and protecting green areas.

‘The public wants to influence the new master plan for the city, the reconstruction of public spaces, and so on. Many communities are active now, and they are starting to have an impact,’ Nazarko comments.

War and culture

The team understood the risks of working in a frontline city: airstrikes, air-raid alerts, and blackouts. However, they were confident that demand for culture remained.

‘Soldiers often visit us because we are the closest cultural centre to the front line. They get in for free. When the guys hold their positions and know that life goes on behind them, they understand what they are fighting for. The enemy wants there to be no life in the city. That's why we have to do everything we can to ensure that there is,’ says Nazarko.

He adds that there is always an element of risk because during war, you never know what tomorrow will bring. That's why the team decided there was no time to waste. In the first stage, they are building a large multifunctional venue with an area of 1,400 square metres. It will combine an electronic music club, a multi-genre music venue, a modern theatre, a school of creative industries, a contemporary art gallery, and a cinema for audiovisual performances, documentaries, and independent films. The main stage has already been erected. It is located in a shelter with fire doors and emergency exits. Concerts, performances by the Nafta theatre, electronic and club events, and exhibitions are held here. The gallery and studio will be located on the second floor. The space also houses a school of creative industries.

Construction continues even in winter. ‘Right now, our co-founder Mykyta is on holiday for the first time in two years, and our other co-founders are working on the construction site as we speak,’ smiles Anton Nazarko.

The team is also working on the idea of nurturing a new generation of artists in the city: ‘Many artists have left Kharkiv. Our task is to grow new ones.’

During the school's first year, some graduates became residents of the space and are already creating their own projects. During its first two years, Some People created a community and held showcases from clubs ∄ (K41), Cxema, and ABO, performances by Ernestas Sadau (Digital Tsunami), PRZ, Tresor club residents Toxido Mask and Chloe Lula, and many other artists.

Building walls and connections

Some People is not only a multifunctional cultural space in an abandoned factory but also a community of like-minded people. Nazarko says that, in addition to the four co-founders, the core team consists of about 15 people.

Some of the young people in Kharkiv have never been to clubs or danced at night because they weren't old enough before the full-scale war. For many, Some People was their first experience of this kind. It's also an opportunity to network.

‘Our dance floor is a place where people communicate with each other. It's where a new community is taking shape in the city.’

The centre's co-founder says that foreign journalists visiting the city are amazed by the number of people there.

‘I tell them: it's not just 250 people on the dance floor, it's 250 choices to stay in Kharkiv. These are young people; they can pack their bags and be in Kyiv, Lviv, or Europe by tomorrow. But for some reason, they're staying in Kharkiv. And that choice must be respected.’

Nazarko recalls a young man who approached him on the street and said, ‘When the war started, I didn't leave the house for a year. I lost my job and had serious mental health problems. Someone advised me to come to you. I'd never been to a club before and didn't know how to dance. But it turned out that no one cared how I danced. I started moving. And after that, my life changed: I found a job, made friends, and started living.’

Such stories are not uncommon, says the co-founder. Some people returned to Kharkiv for the venue. Some moved here from Ivano-Frankivsk to teach at the Sound Production school. Some brought friends, a team, and new ideas.

‘Donors are afraid of investing in frontline regions’

The team built everything at its own expense during the first year. Then there was a short period of cooperation with USAID. After it ended, some of the construction work was put on hold due to a lack of funding, Nazarko recalls. The team also continuously submitted grant applications.

‘Sometimes we succeed. In particular, with the House of Europe. But our project is so large that one or two successful grant applications are not enough,’ explains Nazarko.

Thanks to a grant from House of Europe, a cinema for audiovisual performances, auteur and documentary films is now being created on the first floor of the centre.

‘People seldom fund construction work, especially in Kharkiv. Many donors are afraid to invest in frontline regions. That’s why House of Europe is awesome,’ says Anton.

Some People plan to complete the construction of the multifunctional space and then promote culture.

‘The main task is to transform the energy that exists in the city into tangible and intangible cultural products. To show the world what Kharkiv is. And we truly believe that the city will become an important destination on the cultural map of the world.’

‘Projects like this are worth all the effort’

Olena Onohda, manager of Large Infrastructure Grants at House of Europe, says that demand for this grant is very high, as House of Europe is one of the few donors that supports the physical restoration and development of cultural spaces in Ukraine. ‘Last year, we were able to support six projects out of 314 applications. Independent experts evaluate applications based on several criteria. These include the importance of the space for the community, the feasibility of the planning and budget, and the appropriateness of the costs given the martial law and location. The application from the Some People New Culture Centre received a very high score, and the organisation passed an additional financial capacity check,’ she recalls.

House of Europe's large infrastructure grants provide up to EUR 100,000. Therefore, a strong team that can implement the project, understands all the risks, and the level of responsibility is important. ‘For our part, we carefully check the feasibility of such projects. If there is an active community in frontline cities, an influx of internally displaced persons, and an organisation that plans realistic, pragmatic repairs of safe spaces, it is important for us to support such an initiative,’ notes the manager.

For House of Europe, the Some People project is, among other things, about preserving culture. However, the programme recognises the challenges. ‘The main risk is the threat to human life as a result of full-scale aggression. This then breaks down into a multitude of other problems — from a lack of professional contractors for construction work to difficulties in preparing documents due to constant power cuts. Despite this, infrastructure projects help to develop spaces for people and preserve cultural activity during the war. Since our identity is constantly under attack by the aggressor, we believe that investing in projects that preserve it is extremely important,' says Olena Onohda.

The manager notes that a completed project is a marker of success. ‘Did the organisation manage to achieve what it set out to do? How does it communicate in case of emergencies? Does the renovated centre support the needs of cultural communities? We monitor whether events are taking place in the renovated spaces and whether the community responds. At Some People, despite the risks, we see concrete results. This convinces us that projects like this are worth all the effort,’ concludes Olena Onohda.

This material was created as part of the Goals That Hold Up special project, which tells the story of the EU-funded House of Europe programme’s achievements over the past year through personal stories.

‘Ukraїner. The Country from Within’ in Crimean Tatar: a book that helps prepare for the liberation of Crimea

When the media and publishing project Ukraїner was looking for a translator for its book Kraina zseredyny (The Country from Within), fellow publishers said, ‘Yes, of course, we can recommend someone who translates beautifully from Crimean Tatar into Ukrainian.’ But the team needed the opposite — from Ukrainian into Crimean Tatar. This turned out to be a difficult but achievable undertaking.

In eight years, ‘The Country from Within’ has sold over 56,000 copies, and translations have been published in the UK, Germany, and Japan. The Crimean Tatar version hit the shelves in autumn 2025.

Yevheniia Sapozhnykova, editor-in-chief of the Ukraïner publishing house, told Hromadske why the team decided to undertake this publishing experiment, how they searched for a translator and editor, why this book is a step towards the liberation of Crimea, and what role the House of Europe played in this story.

Expeditions that became a book

‘The Country from Within’ was born as a summary of expeditions across Ukraine. Over several years, the Ukraїner team travelled across the country, collecting stories of people who develop local culture, practise crafts, and restore traditions or monuments. Videos and articles about the expeditions were published on Ukraїner. These pieces were enhanced by drone footage, which was much easier to obtain before the full-scale war began.’We saw that there weren’t any publications about the whole country — either for foreigners or Ukrainians — to share non-trivial knowledge and plan trips. At that time, we were already aware of how fragile this opportunity to travel could be: we had already lost access to Crimea and parts of the Donetsk and Luhansk regions,‘ says Yevheniia Sapozhnykova, editor-in-chief of the publishing house. ’We felt a public demand. It was a time when people wanted to learn and affirm their own identity, to find out more about Ukraine in a way that would inspire them. We didn’t do any marketing analysis — it was obvious.’

That is why they decided to publish the book. The first part was released in 2019 in collaboration with Vydavnytstvo Staroho Leva. The book included QR codes for video stories so that readers could discover and see more. The book came to be seen as a collector’s item, a visiting card for Ukraine. Even at the pre-sale stage, when the book had not yet been published in print, more than half of the English and Ukrainian editions had already been sold.

The English-language version of ‘The Country from Within’ had an unexpected fate. A Ukrainian woman from the Kyiv region, who left for the UK at the start of the war, brought the book as a gift to the family that took her in. The hostess turned out to be a British publisher. After skimming through the book, she wrote to Vydavnytstvo Staroho Leva with a proposal to publish it in the United Kingdom. ‘It got out very quickly because there was a very good English translation ready,’ says Yevheniia Sapozhnykova.

The book was later published in Germany and Japan. It was adapted for each country. For example, the Japanese preferred to focus on nature, while the Germans found it difficult to comprehend the number of Ukrainian regions, so they additionally divided the book into ‘east,’ ‘west,’ ‘north,’ and ‘south.’

A language we must fight to preserve

The idea to translate the book into Crimean Tatar had been in the works for a long time. Ukraїner had already been working on a Crimean Tatar version of its website and translating media materials. It was a gesture of support and solidarity with the Crimean Tatars.

‘This language is under threat, and a large, but still not large enough, number of people are fighting for its preservation,’ comments Yevheniia. ‘Few people in Ukraine know Crimean Tatar, and not all Crimean Tatars know it well enough to read and speak it fluently.’

The team decided that a book about all the historical regions of Ukraine should be published in Crimean Tatar and that it should include stories of people who preserve the traditions and memory of Crimea, which will be especially important when the peninsula is liberated. Therefore, several Crimean stories with archival photos from Bakhchisaray and a story about Hıdırlez, the Crimean Tatars' spring holiday, were added to the Crimean Tatar edition. These stories could not be researched on-site because the peninsula is occupied.

Finding a translator was the most difficult part. Usually, when preparing to translate a book, the publisher chooses someone from a large database of experienced and professional translators, but in this case, that was impossible. There are only a few people who work professionally with Crimean Tatar texts.

‘I asked my colleagues in the market if anyone could recommend any good specialists. They said, “Yes, of course, we can recommend someone who translates really well from Crimean Tatar into Ukrainian.” I replied, “No, you don’t understand, I need the opposite”,’ says the publishing house’s editor-in-chief. Finally, Yevheniia's colleagues referred her to an experienced translator, Mamure Chabanova, who agreed to undertake the project.

According to the translator, some of the words that needed translation from Ukrainian had no direct counterparts in Crimean Tatar, so they had to be invented. ‘At one time, part of the Ukrainian language corpus appeared in the same way, when, for example, Lesya Ukrainka or Ivan Franko came up with words that we now take for granted,’ says Yevheniia Sapozhnykova.

They found the editor, Zuleikha Kadri-Zade, through personal connections, too. She doesn't live in Ukraine, but she's a native speaker of Crimean Tatar and has worked a lot with academic literature. The translation and editing took about four months.

Since the Ukrainian layout was ready, they didn't rework the book conceptually, but just added a few stories. However, a painted version of the cover was created for the Crimean Tatar edition. While the covers of the Ukrainian and English editions feature photographs, artist Victoriia Malik painted Ayu-Dag, or Bear Mountain, for this edition.

‘We made this cover as close to a photograph as possible, but with a touch of fantasy. We hope that someday, it will be possible to take an actual expedition photograph of the Crimean mountain,’ says Yevheniia Sapozhnykova.

A learning tool for students

Work on the book lasted more than half a year. It was published in autumn 2025 with a print run of 1,000 copies.

The Crimean Tatar community responded to it with approval, warmth, and interest, somewhat surprised that the project had been carried out on such a large scale. The team presented the publication in Kyiv and Lviv — both in a more intimate setting for the Crimean Tatar community and in an open format for a wider audience. ‘The head of the Mejlis of the Crimean Tatar people, Refat Chubarov, took part in several presentations,’ says Yevheniia. ‘We held a big event at the Crimean House: a presentation, a photo exhibition, and a discussion.’ The subjects of the Crimean stories in the publication were invited to the presentations and given books to enable them to serve as ambassadors for the publication. The team is preparing new presentations for the Crimean Tatar publication and plans to travel to Odesa in the spring.

According to Yevheniia, the discussions proved to be a more interesting format than the usual presentations. Participants in the publication's preparation and representatives of the Crimean Tatar community were invited to a discussion at the Sens bookstore in Kyiv. They discussed how to help the Crimean Tatar language survive and thrive. ‘Such conversations bring about constructive dialogue, new collaborations, personal contacts, and new ideas,’ says the publisher.

For students at the Ukrainian Catholic University, where Mamure Chabanova teaches Crimean Tatar, ‘The Country from Within’ has become an educational tool. This book can also help establish dialogue with Crimean Tatar communities in Turkey, Romania, and other countries.

‘Our publishing success was that we sparked a wave of interest and showed that the topic, language, and people are important and relevant. This interest must continue to grow,’ comments Yevheniia. It is important for Ukraїner that the project encourages other publishers to print books in Crimean Tatar. After the release of 'The Country from Within,' several authors approached the team with proposals for publications about the Crimean Tatars in Ukrainian, English, and Crimean Tatar.

According to Yevheniia, it is worth printing books in Crimean Tatar now, in preparation for the liberation of Crimea. After all, most Crimean Tatars live on the occupied peninsula rather than on the government-controlled territory of Ukraine. The language lives and develops there, albeit in isolation. "In order for us to find a common language, take steps towards the reintegration of Crimea into the Ukrainian space, and introduce the Crimean Tatar language into education, culture, and literature, these books must appear now. The more publications written or translated into Crimean Tatar there are, the more actively the language will live and be renewed," says the head of the publishing house. Ukraїner consistently contributes to this process by supporting and updating the Crimean Tatar version of its website.

‘The Ukraїner team managed to maintain high standards.’

Ukraїner had been thinking about publishing a book in Crimean Tatar for quite some time. While getting ready to make it happen, the team kept an eye out for grant opportunities and eventually received support from the House of Europe. Translation Grants are among the main areas of focus for the House of Europe programme, launched in 2019. It funds the translation and publication of books from European Union languages into Ukrainian and vice versa — translations from Ukrainian into EU languages, says Tetiana Manziuk, Translation Grants manager. Publishers can receive up to EUR 5,000 for translation, copyright acquisition, editing, proofreading, layout, cover design, printing, and promotional activities.

‘Usually, at least 30% co-financing from the publisher is required, but we have removed this clause from the call for proposals focusing on endangered languages, as we understand that publishing books in endangered languages is a major challenge for publishers, especially amid martial law,’ says Tetiana.

House of Europe announced its first open call for translations from and into endangered languages in the summer of 2024. Sixteen applications were submitted, of which seven received funding. One of them was the translation of 'Ukraїner. The Country from Within' into Crimean Tatar.

‘We evaluate the application and decide whether to fund it. Experts focus on a set of criteria, including the professionalism and reputation of the team, a well-developed plan and marketing strategy, the relevance of the publication, and so on,’ says Tetiana Manziuk. ‘Although the publishing house Ukraїner had no previous experience in publishing books in Crimean Tatar, it prepared a very high-quality application, which received a high score from the jury. Now that the project has been implemented, I can say that the Ukraїner team has managed to maintain high standards at all stages, from the selection of specialists to a well-thought-out promotional campaign.’

House of Europe has already supported 11 translation projects from and into endangered languages. Most of the books can already be found on the shelves of Ukrainian bookstores. ‘This is a great achievement, but also only the first step on the way to preserving and supporting endangered languages. We see how the release of these translations fuels the public’s and relevant organisations' interest in supporting such initiatives. We hope that other publishers, donor programmes, and institutions will also take up this initiative and that more literature in endangered languages will become available to Ukrainian readers,’ concludes Tetiana Manziuk.

This material was created as part of the Goals That Hold Up special project, which tells the story of the EU-funded House of Europe programme’s achievements over the past year through personal stories.