Olena’s story: how football is helping refugees build new lives
mardi 14 octobre 2025
Résumé de l'article
Ahead of the 2025 Unity EURO Cup in the Netherlands, Ukrainian Olena Chesanovska explains how the Spanish national refugee team represents an 'island of hope' both for herself and other teammates settling into new communities in Spain.
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Corps de l'article
When Olena Chesanovska, her husband and two small children were leaving Kyiv in February 2022 – the air trembling with the sounds of sirens and explosions – she could not have imagined that football, a sport she only took up in her thirties, would offer a bridge to her new life in Spain.
Three years later, Olena views her decision to train with Spain’s national refugee team, set up by the Royal Spanish Football Federation (RFEF), as a turning point in finally feeling part of a community again. "I met people who were different from me, yet so similar. We were all a bit lost, homesick, carrying heavy memories. That's why we understood each other so well," says Olena, now aged 44. "This team became my island of hope. It didn't matter where you came from – what mattered was chasing the ball together."
"This team became my island of hope. It didn't matter where you came from – what mattered was chasing the ball together."
"Football is such a big part of Spanish culture. Through it, I felt I belonged. Even when our team was mostly boys from Africa and Asia, we shared the same passion – with them and with the Spanish part of our club."
By bringing together players from more than 10 countries, the Spanish refugee team is more than just a group of footballers – it's a language of connection and hope, on and off the pitch. Olena fondly remembers visiting the Spanish Football Museum and watching the national team's open training sessions, both thanks to RFEF support. "But the most unforgettable moment was when we were invited to Spain's friendly with Brazil at the Santiago Bernabéu last year. Just wow – indescribable emotions."
Olena was deeply impressed by the support from RFEF. This included access to training facilities and highly experienced coaches Jesús Paredes, who once worked alongside Luis Aragonés, and his son, Rodrigo. "Here, I found kindred spirits among refugees and Spaniards alike."
Natural destination
Once they had decided to leave Ukraine, Spain was always the natural destination for her family. Her husband is Cuban so she and the children already spoke some Spanish. They crossed the Ukrainian border into Romania on foot, then travelled by buses and trains through Bucharest and Budapest. Flights were sold out, but fortune smiled when a man driving to Barcelona offered them a ride.
The following months were some of the hardest: Barcelona, Madrid then Cuenca – Red Cross shelters, refugee hotels, uncertainty, and despair. Eventually, the family moved into an apartment at Alcalá de Henares, 35 km from Madrid, enrolled the children in school, and Olena – a research associate in clinical studies – was able to resume her work at her old company’s Spanish office. But the emotional toll of displacement continued to weigh heavily, making it difficult to truly feel at home in their new community.
Shared pain
"Spaniards were kind and welcoming, but they couldn't fully understand our pain. That's why we stayed more connected with other Ukrainians," she admits.
Awaking in the middle of the night to the sound of distant explosions three and a half years ago, Olena and her husband initially thought it was fireworks. "We quickly realised it was something else entirely," she says, recalling the life-changing moments that face many refugees, but few could ever expect – let alone prepare for. "There was shock and disbelief. We hadn't stocked up on anything. It was terrifying. We couldn't leave right away – we had no car, and the roads were chaos."
"There was shock and disbelief. We hadn't stocked up on anything. It was terrifying. We couldn't leave right away – we had no car, and the roads were chaos."
Together with their two small children, the couple managed to escape Kyiv via one of the last few open roads, carrying only documents and small backpacks. After sheltering with Olena’s parents in the small western town of Kamianets-Podilsky, they decided to leave Ukraine to rebuild their lives in Spain.
Revelation
Olena tried different ways to integrate – flamenco classes, then padel, a sport barely known in Ukraine but very popular in Spain. One day, she saw a short ad in the refugee centre’s online chat group: football training for girls aged 15 and up. She hesitated. "I was 41, and I had never trained in football professionally. I only started playing at 33 with colleagues from my old job in Kyiv. Later, we even organised a women's team," she smiles. Still, she decided to give it a try.
Training with Spain’s refugee team for the first time was a revelation. Soon, she was a regular Saturday morning commuter, making the two-hour journey to 8am sessions at the national team base in Las Rozas. "Now we train in Madrid, but it's still over an hour by public transport on Sunday mornings. But I'm not alone," she says: "Some teammates come from Toledo, 70 km away, or straight after a night shift. For all of us, every training session is pure joy."
At first, her new passion surprised even her husband. "'You're going to play with men?' he asked. Now he's one of my biggest supporters," she laughs. "Playing mostly with young men is tough – sometimes I'm the only woman at training. But I know it can inspire others. Recently, a girl from Afghanistan joined us. Her husband was sceptical – even restrictive – at first, but when he saw how normal and empowering it was, his attitude changed."
Olena’s example has inspired her daughter to take up the game. "One day, Anhelina said, 'Mom, you play - why can't I?' Of course she could!" Aged 10, Anhelina was goalkeeper for her local children's team before taking a break because matches clashed with Ukrainian Saturday school. Also encouraged by his mum’s enthusiasm, Olena’s 14-year-old son, Roman, who had tried football in Kyiv and quickly quit, has started playing again with his Spanish friends
Third Unity EURO Cup
Now, Olena is preparing for her third Unity Cup – an event that, she says, feels like a EURO for refugees and brought some of her best memories since leaving home in Ukraine.
"Meeting Ukrainians from other teams was so emotional. I always had blue-and-yellow braids in my hair so everyone knew where I was from."
"The first, in Frankfurt, was incredible – such a privilege. Meeting Ukrainians from other teams was so emotional. I always had blue-and-yellow braids in my hair so everyone knew where I was from. The second, in Nyon, felt absolutely surreal; like stepping into a dream. I remember thinking, 'Wow, is this real UEFA? The legendary trophies are here, the stars come here - and now we're here too.' Unbelievable!"
Now, she and her teammates are counting down the days to the next edition in the Netherlands. Win or lose, when the final whistle blows, Olena will return to Madrid - to her family, her work, and her teammates. Together, they'll continue to build bridges through football.
The Unity EURO Cup
The Unity EURO Cup is more than just a football tournament – it's a celebration of our sport's power to unite communities, regardless of background.
Organised by UEFA in collaboration with our partners UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees), teams made up of refugees and players from their host communities compete in a mixed-gender event that puts the floodlights on sport’s vital role in facilitating social inclusion.
Find out more HERE.