By Katarina Mozetič and Larissa Kokonowskyj
When we talk about refugees, we often imagine a sharp break: one life left behind, another slowly built somewhere new. But for some refugees, that is not what displacement looks like. Life does not simply cease in the country of origin, while being slowly built anew in the place of residence. Instead, life stretches across borders.
This is what we found in our research with Ukrainian women who fled to Germany after Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022. Through repeated interviews between Autumn 2022 and Spring 2024, we saw that many women were not only trying to settle in Germany. At the same time, they were upholding important parts of their lives in Ukraine. They maintained their properties in Ukraine, enrolled children in parallel schooling in Germany and Ukraine and worked remotely for employers or clients in Ukraine. In other words, they were not just “connected” to Ukraine from afar. They were living in two countries at once.
Transnational living is usually associated with people such as highly mobile professionals, lifestyle migrants or cross-border workers – not refugees. Refugees are often assumed to have – or, indeed, have – fewer resources and less freedom of movement to sustain a life dispersed across borders. But our study suggests that this picture is too narrow. Under some conditions, refugees also lead lives that unfold in several countries. Our findings therefore invite a more nuanced understanding of refugee transnationalism. Rather than treating “refugees” as a homogeneous category, the experiences of the participants demonstrate how legal status intersects with education, professional backgrounds and digital competencies in shaping opportunities for transnational living even when corporeal mobility to the homeland is suspended.
Our study found that the driving force behind maintaining lives simultaneously in Germany and Ukraine was uncertainty. As the war dragged on, the women we interviewed were unsure whether returning to Ukraine would be safe or desirable. But they were equally unsure whether they could make a future for themselves and their families in Germany. Family members remained split across borders. Jobs in their line of work were hard to get by. Temporary protection made life in Germany possible but called long-term staying into question. Faced with this uncertainty, many tried to keep multiple options open by maintaining a life in Ukraine and Germany simultaneously.
One of the clearest ways they did this was through remote work. Several of the women continued working online for employers or clients in Ukraine after arriving in Germany. Though income mattered, this was not only about money. It was also about continuity, identity and status. These were women who had worked in fields such as finance, research and media before the war. Keeping a job in Ukraine allowed them to hold on to a familiar professional world at a time when so much else had lied in ruins. It offered a way to remain socially and emotionally anchored in Ukraine; to contribute to Ukraine, while physically living in Germany.
Remote work also helped them postpone difficult decisions. Starting over in Germany was not simple. It meant learning a new language, figuring out whether qualifications would be recognised, managing childcare and understanding a new labour market. For some, continuing a job in Ukraine bought time. It allowed them to ask: Can I rebuild a career here? Do I want to stay? At the same time, it was a means of dealing with temporary residency status: Will I even be allowed to stay here? In that sense, remote work became a way of managing an uncertain future.
This was only possible under a particular set of conditions. Ukraine’s digital infrastructure and internet connectivity remained largely functional despite the war. The women in our study were also highly educated and had worked in occupations where remote work was possible. This matters, because remote work is not equally available to everyone: It depends, among others, on skills, occupation and access to technology.
Remote work was not the only way through which the women in our study upheld their lives in Ukraine while settling in Germany. Some held on to homes or apartments in Ukraine not only because they were too meaningful to let go of, but as a backup plan in the case of possible return. Alongside enrolling their children in German schools, some kept them in Ukrainian ones to avoid closing off future options too quickly.
At the same time, this way of living was often fragile. Remote jobs could disappear. Salaries from Ukraine seldom sufficed to support life in Germany. Power cuts and internet instability created disruptions. Working across two countries raised tax questions. Dual schooling led to exhaustion. Retaining footholds in Ukraine had to be paralleled with starting over in Germany. Living in two countries at once was possible, but it was rarely easy.
Our interviews also show that transnational living is not necessarily permanent but transitional. Over time, the centre of gravity within the lives of the women we interviewed shifted towards Germany. Many found stable housing, some took up local jobs, many children settled into German schools and routines. As the war continued and return became harder to envision, some women let go of remote work, discontinued the Ukrainian education of their children and focused on building a future in Germany.
Recognising transnational living among refugees matters. It reminds us that refugees, too, may live simultaneously in various countries for months or years, especially when socio-economic resources and digital tools make that possible. It thus challenges the idea that displacement is a one-way journey from “there” to “here”. In that context, remote work can be one of the key means through which refugees maintain not just an income, but a life stretched between countries.
This blog post is based on the book chapter “Straddling lives: Protection holders living between Germany and Ukraine” recently published in Benjamin Etzold & Marie Godin (eds.) (2026) Translocal Lives in Times of Conflict: Understanding People’s (Im)Mobilities and (Dis)Connections under Conditions of Violence and War, pp. 179–193: Springer Cham.
Katarina Mozetič (katarina.mozetic@mau.se) is a postdoctoral researcher at Malmö University. Her current project examines remote work among Ukrainian protection holders in Sweden.
Larissa Kokonowskyj (l.kokonowskyj@fu-berlin.de) is a PhD Candidate in Sociology at Free University of Berlin. Her research is based on a longitudinal qualitative panel study with displaced Ukrainians in Berlin, Warsaw, and Budapest.