(Image: Amber Schultz/Private Media)

City councils and charities across Poland were some of the fastest to react to the invasion of Ukraine, organising accommodation with host families and establishing hubs for refugees and providing them with healthcare, veterinary care and supplies.

But already the system is showing signs of strain — especially in towns close to the border where many refugees choose to stay so they can return home the second the war is over. 

Crikey has spoken to one NGO disaster coordinator who had to check in to a psychiatric facility because of burnout and stress, and others are fretting about how long volunteer goodwill will last without sustainable government investment.

Precise numbers of how many Ukrainians stay in Poland versus how many travel to other countries are impossible to get — the only indicator for how many plans on staying long-term is the number who have applied for local electronic ID numbers, called PESEL, to access employment, housing and education, receiving a one-off payment of $95 in addition to $160 a child each month.

At least half a million people have registered for it in the three weeks since it was made available to Ukrainian refugees.

It’s a generous offer and has boosted Poland’s reputation across the EU — so much so that Polish Prime Minister Mateusz Morawiecki said Poland “never had such an excellent brand all over the world”. 

But as peace talks between Russia and Ukraine drag on, cities and towns close to the border are feeling the pressure. NGOs say they’re left to fill the gaps in the government’s response, and city councillors are calling for greater EU intervention, arguing the uncertainty makes long-term planning impossible. 

A change of heart

Poland has had a harsh stance on migration for years — its conservative government which was elected in 2015 ran a campaign promoting “Poland First”, with scores chanting of “Poland for Poles” at its rallies.

As recently as 2016, anti-Ukrainian slogans were chanted at an annual march of Polish nationalists in Przemyśl, with then-mayor barred from Ukraine for five years for undermining Ukraine’s national safety — a city just 14km from the border which has since welcomed refugees. 

Przemyśl city councillor Dariusz Lasek says that in the face of the crisis, the community was quick to act. He’s also a schoolteacher, the head of the religious charity foundation Free Hearts, and is responsible for the city’s social services.

Planning is tough, he says. While the national government focuses on large-scale transportation, building accommodation, setting up social services access, and providing funding to regions, the community is responsible for meeting refugees’ immediate needs.

“In the short term this weight is taken care of by individuals, but in the long term there needs to be a central solution,” he said. He added that the EU should help with extra funding to Poland. Along with Germany, Poland has proposed that host nations receive €1000 for each refugee.

But Poland faces a significant labour shortage, and the influx of Ukrainians could help fill some gaps — provided those who arrive, stay.

Guests, not refugees

There’s no Ukrainian anti-immigration sentiment in Mińsk Mazowiecki, a small city just 40km from the capita, Warsaw, where volunteering has been at the heart of its refugee response. There Ukrainians have been welcomed not as refugees but as guests, receiving guest passes to access free services.

Deputy mayor Eliza Bujalska says this was driven out of respect for the Ukrainians: “[The Ukrainians’ approach] is that they’re here with the intention to go home — it’s just temporary.” This means the city is sure about how many Ukrainians have arrived.

But Bujalska says Poland wasn’t used to hosting refugees — before this year, refugees made up just 0.01% of its population.

“There are systems in place [to accept refugees] in the EU, but we’re not. We’re not exactly reaching out for them yet on the national level,” Bujalska said.

Mińsk Mazowiecki is not a big city; it has just 41,000 inhabitants and is hosting nearly 1000. About 200 of those are children who are attending school locally. Many have arrived thanks to a longstanding cultural exchange program with a sister city in Ukraine — meaning when the war broke out, there was a clear line of communication between refugees and city council members.

“The first thing we did was call our contacts and ask if they’re OK,” Bujalska said. The council helped coordinate transport directly to the city where they’ve been welcomed by host families, with Scouts sorting through piles of donations for Ukrainian families. 

But uncertainty has made things difficult. “One school has 55 new Ukrainian students — that’s a lot,” she said. The city has yet to add any extra teachers or infrastructure to classrooms. “It’s all very unclear. It’s better if the kids continue their Ukrainian education so they can take exams when they go back, but if they stay here, they’re going to have to do the Polish system.”

She says an additional hurdle was finding jobs for Ukrainians — whether they should look for long- or short-term employment: “It’s all very uncertain. We need to prepare all these different elements.”

Systemic approach needed

Accommodation costs have skyrocketed in Poland as refugees, journalists and humanitarian workers pour int. Warsaw’s population has swelled by about 20% since the invasion began and petrol costs and inflation are at record highs. It means there are significant costs for those hosting refugees, driving them across cities and donating supplies — especially in border cities.

At Lublin, a large city 250km from the border, Karolina Wierzbińska, the international organisation manager for the Polish human rights agency Homo Faber, says the Polish government needs to stop patting itself on the back and put forward concrete long-term plans for refugees. 

“Many women don’t want to be separated from their husbands [who are forced to stay in Ukraine] and want to stay close to the border,” she said. She estimates 90% of the refugees are women and children, creating problems around schooling and childcare. 

“Right now, all the help in Lubin is voluntary and the work of NGOs. We totally suffer from a lack of information from the Polish government. What’s the plan? Not the plan for today, but for tomorrow and the general plan for Polish immigration policy?” 

She doesn’t believe many Ukrainians will be able to go home after the large-scale destruction of cities and infrastructure: “If the Polish government doesn’t put forward a systematic solution, we’ll have a huge problem.”