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KYIV: When Bart Gruyaert agreed to help rebuild destroyed apartment blocks outside Kyiv, he hoped to be one cog in Ukraine’s vast reconstruction program, repairing just some of the damage wrought by Russia’s invasion.
But when the French company he works for, Neo-Eco, applied for building permits in the town of Gostomel, the local military administration asked the company to transfer the funds for the multimillion-dollar project to its bank account, under the pretense that it would run the project directly.
Officials told Gruyaert, “it’s better if you transfer the money you received to our account,” he recalled.
“But it doesn’t work like that,” he said.
The company refused, and progress on the initiative, which had secured €20 million in private funding, immediately slowed.
It marked the latest example of the endemic corruption that has plagued Ukraine since it became independent after the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991.
After Neo-Eco’s refusal on the bank transfer, the local administration started dragging things out, adding new requirements to the contract and trying to incentivize the company to “give envelopes” to the right people, Gruyaert alleged.
The company reluctantly decided to abandon the project in September 2023, saying it was “impossible” to work under such conditions.
Following the saga, Ukrainian investigators said they had uncovered a system of “embezzlement” in the Gostomel military administration and accused its head Sergiy Borysiuk of appropriating around 21 million hryvnia ($470,000) meant for the reconstruction of houses and apartments.
In June 2023, after the allegations surfaced, Borysiuk was dismissed by President Volodymyr Zelensky.
He had pre-empted his removal with a press conference several days earlier in which he said he had done “everything possible” to ensure reconstruction efforts.
“It seems to me that you are looking for the enemy in the wrong place,” he said.
The case is far from isolated.
Even though Ukraine has stepped up its anti-graft measures over the past decade to advance its ambition of joining the European Union, corruption scandals are still rife.
Transparency International ranked Ukraine 104 out of 180 countries in its “corruption perceptions index,” up from 144 in 2013.
For some officials, Russia’s invasion has provided new opportunities for personal enrichment.
Several high-profile cases of alleged embezzlement of reconstruction funds, as well as the arrest of officials for selling army exemption certificates, have emerged throughout the war.
While a potential embarrassment for Ukraine, which relies on billions of dollars in Western financial support, Transparency International Ukraine’s director Andriy Borovyk said attention to the cases showed the problem was not being “forgotten.”
And authorities also tout the uncovering of such schemes as a sign of “effective” enforcement.
Just 10 years ago, “who could have thought that senior officials could be accused of crimes?” said Viktor Pavlushchyk, head of the National Agency on Corruption Prevention.
“Now we have some very good examples,” he said.
Around 500 corruption cases have been opened this year and 60 convictions secured, according to the National Anti-Corruption Bureau.
But there are lingering fears the persistent problem will hamper Ukraine’s massive reconstruction agenda, deterring international partners from putting up funds.
The total cost of reconstructing Ukraine stands is estimated at $486 billion, according to a joint study by the World Bank, UN, EU and Ukrainian government.
Gruyaert has not been deterred by his experience in Gostomel, which was occupied by Russian forces in the first weeks of the February 2022 invasion.
Ukraine is “making a lot of progress” on corruption, Gruyaert said, adding that Neo-Eco has had to learn how to “zigzag between the various obstacles.”
The company is still working on several other projects and encourages other foreign investors to get involved.
But, bruised by the Gostomel experience, it now prioritizes working with cities where it has confidence it will not be asked for kickbacks.
Most concede that much remains to be done in Ukraine’s anti-corruption fight, especially when it comes to reconstruction.
It is still common for local officials to have stakes in construction companies through their relatives, several figures said.
Ukraine is trying to weed out such conflicts of interest and make the whole process more transparent.
Last year, the country launched a platform listing all open projects.
Called “DREAM,” the aim is to enable investors, journalists and Ukrainians to track the progress of construction projects, said its head Viktor Nestulia.
A commitment to such openness will be key to reassuring foreign investors, said Mustafa Nayyem, an activist and journalist who headed the reconstruction agency until earlier this year.
“The war is not an excuse not to fight corruption,” he said.
Corruption, “is not in Ukrainian DNA, it’s simply a question of will.”

NEW YORK: Maribel Hidalgo fled her native Venezuela a year ago with a 1-year-old son, trudging for days through Panama’s Darien Gap, then riding the rails across Mexico to the United States.
They were living in the US when the Biden administration announced Venezuelans would be offered Temporary Protected Status, which allows people already in the United States to stay and work legally if their homelands are deemed unsafe. People from 17 countries, including Haiti, Afghanistan, Sudan and recently Lebanon, are currently receiving such relief.
But President-elect Donald Trump and his running mate, JD Vance, have promised mass deportations and suggested they would scale back the use of TPS that covers more than 1 million immigrants. They have highlighted unfounded claims that Haitians who live and work legally in Springfield, Ohio, as TPS holders were eating their neighbors’ pets. Trump also amplified disputed claims made by the mayor of Aurora, Colorado, about Venezuelan gangs taking over an apartment complex.
“What Donald Trump has proposed doing is we’re going to stop doing mass parole,” Vance said at an Arizona rally in October, mentioning a separate immigration status called humanitarian parole that is also at risk. “We’re going to stop doing mass grants of Temporary Protected Status.”
Hidalgo wept as she discussed her plight with a reporter as her son, now 2, slept in a stroller outside the New York migrant hotel where they live. At least 7.7 million people have fled political violence and economic turmoil in Venezuela in one of the biggest displacements worldwide.
“My only hope was TPS,” Hidalgo said. “My worry, for example, is that after everything I suffered with my son so that I could make it to this country, that they send me back again.”
Venezuelans along with Haitians and Salvadorans are the largest group of TPS beneficiaries and have the most at stake.
Haiti’s international airport shut down this week after gangs opened fire at a commercial flight landing in Port-Au-Prince while a new interim prime minister was sworn in. The Federal Aviation Administration barred US airlines from landing there for 30 days.
“It’s creating a lot of anxiety,” said Vania André, editor-in-chief for The Haitian Times, an online newspaper covering the Haitian diaspora. “Sending thousands of people back to Haiti is not an option. The country is not equipped to handle the widespread gang violence already and cannot absorb all those people.”
Designations by the Homeland Security secretary offer relief for up to 18 months but are extended in many cases. The designation for El Salvador ends in March. Designations for Sudan, Ukraine, and Venezuela end in April. Others expire later.
Federal regulations say a designation can be terminated before it expires, but that has never happened, and it requires 60 days’ notice.
TPS is similar to the lesser-known Deferred Enforcement Departure Program that Trump used to reward Venezuelan exile supporters as his first presidency was ending, shielding 145,000 from deportation for 18 months.
Attorney Ahilan T. Arulanantham, who successfully challenged Trump’s earlier efforts to allow TPS designations for several countries to expire, doesn’t doubt the president-elect will try again.
“It’s possible that some people in his administration will recognize that stripping employment authorization for more than a million people, many of whom have lived in this country for decades, is not good policy” and economically disastrous, said Arulanantham, who teaches at the University of California, Los Angeles School of Law, and helps direct its Center for Immigration Law and Policy. “But nothing in Trump’s history suggests that they would care about such considerations.”
Courts blocked designations from expiring for Haiti, Sudan, Nicaragua and El Salvador until well into President Joe Biden’s term. Homeland Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas then renewed them.
Arulanantham said he “absolutely” could see another legal challenge, depending on what the Trump administration does.
Congress established TPS in 1990, when civil war was raging in El Salvador. Members were alarmed to learn some Salvadorans were tortured and executed after being deported from the US Other designations protected people during wars in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Kuwait, from genocidal violence in Rwanda, and after volcanic eruptions in Montserrat, a British territory in the Caribbean, in 1995 and 1997.
A designation is not a pathway to US permanent residence or citizenship, but applicants can try to change their status through other immigration processes.
Advocates are pressing the White House for a new TPS designation for Nicaraguans before Biden leaves office. Less than 3,000 are still covered by the temporary protections issued in 1998 after Hurricane Mitch battered the country. People who fled much later under oppression from President Daniel Ortega’s government don’t enjoy the same protection from deportation.
“It’s a moral obligation” for the Biden administration, said Maria Bilbao, of the American Friends Service Committee.
Elena, a 46-year-old Nicaraguan who has lived in the United States illegally for 25 years, hopes Biden moves quickly.
“He should do it now,” said Elena, who lives Florida and insisted only her first name be used because she fears deportation. “Not in January. Not in December. Now.”