When Ngāti Tumatauenga Kane Te Tai got a call from his military mates inviting him to join them in war-torn Ukraine, the 37-year-old didn't think twice.
The former soldier sold up and packed his things and headed off to volunteer his services to the cause.
"It's not hard to survive in Ukraine with the amount of money... To be fair, if you've got $1000 you can make, this goes a long way in this country," Te Tai said.
From helping train Ukrainian soldiers on the frontline to teaching civilians how to safely evacuate their townships and training them to disarm weapons to make their neighbourhoods safer, Te Tai is risking his personal safety to help in any way he can.
Te Tai arrived in the country in April and worked with a task force helping young women and children as young as 12 years old that have been trafficked.
"They just get off the train and then they get ferried onto whatever bus they can get on, but unfortunately, there's a lot of people that sort of inject themselves there. Before they know they're inside some van heading off, you know, God knows where," he said.
"While the country is up in upheaval, while the authorities, while the military is too busy trying to fight a war, it is the perfect time for it to happen."
As a former soldier for the New Zealand Defence Force, Te Tai has served in numerous missions, including to Afghanistan and Africa, but has never worked in an environment like Ukraine before.
"The sole difference here is that you're not working a lot of time with like-minded professionals. A lot of these guys, they've been basically plucked out of their lives," Te Tai said.
You'll be operating with a guy who's a 59-year-old music teacher, it's a very dire situation.
"In a lot of the townships, there is sort of like a community that's been torn in half. You've got a lot of Ukrainians that really believe in Ukraine and they just want to see the war done, and then you've got all these other people that almost can almost be a part of the village or the town that is working to actually want Russia to win.
"Security is the biggest thing that they're lacking at the moment they think and the second thing is clean water, that was before the war as well. And shelter, in a couple of months it's winter in Ukraine and Ukrainian winters are terrible.
"There are big gaping holes in the roofs and stuff, it is going to be ridiculous."
He's had a few terrifying moments, with bombs waking him at 4:30am.
"I heard the shrapnel hitting the roof, that was really close. In the morning, when I woke up, I had a look out the window and it's literally just a crater outside by the park.
"Then you go to places in central Ukraine and there's nothing going on.
"I have my body armour and my helmet and I have a weapon by my bedside because I don't know whether some Russian collaborator has gone and told someone that I'm living here. You're always on edge, that all takes a toll," he said.
In the four months he has been in Ukraine, he's noticed some similarities between Ukrainians and Māori, including their warrior spirit.
"They're much like someone who grew up that didn't want to be Māori and are now trying to rediscover it, because they are part of the Soviet Union that ceased to be a thing in the '90s and they've just been trying to recapture what makes them Ukrainian," he said. "They're starting to look at a lot of things and a lot of old customs and a lot of old songs and they try to bring that back to identify themselves as being Ukrainian, and not being Russian.
"Ukraine is just trying to find that part of themselves. I like them and love him enough to still be here, despite a lot of stuff that's going on and Ukraine has captured my heart."
One of the ways Te Tai has connected with tangata whenua and bridged the cultural gap has been through learning and singing their waiata.
The invasion is now six months long and around 17 million people have been displaced.
"When I first got to the country, there were a lot of people that were trying to exit the country, like 12-kilometre-long lines. Now the lines are backwards, there's more people trying to get back in than they are trying to leave.
"There is a lot of hope there. I just feel there is a lot of hope here but there's a lot of tiredness as well."
In a short space of time, Te Tai has forged some lifelong friendships and memories, seeing the very best and worst of humanity. But the saddest things he's witnessed have all been involving children.
"Every time a child dies, every time it's like the first time."
Te Tai said he'll stay as long as his funds allow and until he continues to see a difference that his contribution is making.
"It's how long mentally I can sort of keep this up for. I just know that my heart will be very heavy when I come back from this place."
Made with support from Te Māngai Pāho and the Public Interest Journalism Fund.
