Anna Congedo is a Ukrainian entrepreneur and artist. She reflects on her professional journey — from studying foreign languages in Kamianske (Dnipropetrovsk region) to managing an international company, building her own business, founding an independent art studio, and from dreaming of discovering emerging artists.
While adapting to life in a new country, Anna combines her role as an operations director in the cybersecurity education sector with an active creative practice. In Pristina, she has established her own art studio, where she promotes Petrykivka painting and helps others find emotional balance through art. She describes Kosovo as a welcoming country with a distinctive rhythm of life that offers a sense of safety, and shares her plans to create an art residency for emerging artists.
Could you tell us who you are, where you grew up, and how your story began?
I come from the Dnipropetrovsk region, from the industrial city of Kamianske. This is where my childhood and youth passed. I studied at the Faculty of Translation at the local technical university. Afterwards, I worked at the university as an English language lecturer in the Department of Economics. Later, I enrolled in postgraduate studies and began collaborating with a Swiss company.
I started working on multilingual projects because I spoke English, French and Italian. Gradually, my team grew, and I opened a software development company in Dnipro.
If I were to describe my professional path, it is a mix of technology, international communication and creativity.
In Dnipro, I managed the company, focusing on software development processes, consumer psychology, and product creation. We worked with countries in CIS, Europe, Latin America, and North America.
In the 2010s, the IT sector in Ukraine began to grow rapidly, and IT specialists were in high demand. We opened an IT incubator for young people who wanted to gain their first real experience in IT. It was a voluntary project that lasted around 10 years. When the full-scale war began, part of my team collapsed, and I truly understood the value of business automation.
I am not someone who overcomplicates things — I look for rational approaches: less effort, more results. Like Archimedes’ principle: “Give me a point of support, and I will move the world.” I believe that one key element always shifts a person’s world. I use this approach in life — breaking everything down into parts. I have an analytical mindset. Languages work the same way for me: I break them into components, build a logical structure, and then assemble everything to convey meaning.
What are you most proud of in your professional career?
I am proud of the quality of IT services we delivered over 16 years. Throughout that time, our company was the key Ukrainian partner of a Swiss telecoms company. Behind this lies immense work that results in stability and resilience. We were trusted and valued for consistency and service quality.
When the full-scale invasion began, you relocated to Kosovo with your family. Why Kosovo?
That period was filled with fear. No one knew what would happen in an hour, let alone a day or a week. My family and I lived near Pivdenmash in Dnipro — a major Ukrainian aerospace and defence enterprise, and I realised I could no longer cope with the fear physically. And there was my young daughter. The constant tension and waiting were unbearable.
We decided to leave. We compared economic conditions across European countries, including the availability of skilled IT specialists, costs, taxes, the cost of living, security, and ease of doing business. All these factors played an important role.
For me personally, Kosovo was a country about which there was no information in Ukrainian, except for propaganda. What we could find from open sources about Kosovo was only war, negativity, bombing of Belgrade. All that negative propaganda that Serbia and Russia spread.
To understand the country, we began asking firsthand about very practical matters: education, banking, food prices, travel opportunities, whether a car is needed, and nature. It turned out that life here is stable — very much like in any European country.
What were the first steps of migration like? What happened to you and your business?
What were the first steps of migration like? What happened to you and your business?The beginning was not easy. Obtaining a visa felt almost impossible. Kosovo has no Ukrainian embassy, so I had to travel to another country. No one speaks Ukrainian. Document processes are highly bureaucratic. However, opening a business here is fast and inexpensive. Problems arose with Ukrainian passports: banks were reluctant to work with them at the time. For powers of attorney or other legal matters, I had to travel abroad to an embassy, though the services there were efficient. We live in Pristina, and distances are short; Skopje is close.
Healthcare is more expensive than in Ukraine, so insurance is essential. Access to hospitals exists, but it helps to have a translator, as Albanian is the main language. The same applies to schools — language matters. Private schools are an option, but very expensive.
Although Kosovo is one of the cheapest countries in the Balkans and Europe, life feels different as an expat.
There are very few Ukrainians here — mostly women who married locally.
At the start of the full-scale invasion, the Kosovan government abolished visas for Ukrainians and announced its readiness to accept 5,000 refugees. This was the only news I saw in Ukrainian. They also opened a residency for Ukrainian journalists. That is how I later met Lyudmyla Makei, a Ukrainian journalist. I had already seen her on local television before we met.
You have lived in Kosovo since 2022. How do you see your future?
No one knows. It’s an uncertain question. For the first two years here, I bought almost nothing for the home. Kosovo Albanians are very hospitable; rental flats are usually fully equipped. I was afraid we might have to leave again.
I love flowers. Back home, I always had many plants, but for the first few years here, none. I didn’t want to leave things behind again. The same with clothes or household items — only the basics.
Eventually, I realised that life cannot be put on pause. Now I buy simple flowers, rugs, and bed sheets — small things that bring warmth and colour to daily life.
When the war ends, perhaps we will return to Ukraine. I don’t know. But probably not to Dnipro — maybe Lviv or Kyiv. Dnipro feels too industrial to me now; I want more colour and a closer connection to art.
Your background is in IT, cybersecurity, management and translation. How does creativity fit into your life?
My love for creativity and literature goes back to childhood. I read a lot, and my philological education reinforced this — literature and art history. It left a mark that cannot be erased. I visited many museums in Ukraine and abroad, saw original artworks, and attended theatre and ballet performances. I deeply love culture.
With the start of business, all my energy went into its growth. About six months before the full-scale invasion, I unexpectedly returned to painting. A friend invited me to an art studio in Dnipro. It became a place of pure anti-stress. Soon, I felt a strong need to show my work.
Even when I moved to Kosovo, I brought my paintings and expensive Japanese paints. Local journalists joke that I evacuated from the war and rescued my artworks.
There is even a featured TV interview about me with that title.
Art is part of who I am. Meeting Lyudmyla Makei in Kosovo and having a shared painting session filled me with creative energy again.
I was also deeply influenced by Sihana Badivuku — a respected cultural figure in Kosovo, a violinist, university lecturer in Pristina and Skopje, and founder of the ARS KOSOVA festival. This long-standing international festival has accepted Ukrainian children free of charge for a few years in a row. We connected quickly, collaborated on digitalisation of ARS KOSOVA Foundation archives and activities, and remain in touch, especially around music — I also play the piano. She brings Ukrainian musicians to Kosovo, where they are warmly welcomed.
In Pristina, most cultural events are funded by the state and are free to attend. Everyone has access to art year-round. This inspires me deeply.
From the need to paint and share this activity, I opened LULEDIELLI Art Atelier. It is now visited regularly by locals, the Ukrainian diaspora in Kosovo, and expats alike. I started with three easels; now I have twelve.
Is the art studio now your main activity?
No. My main occupation is work. I am a chief operating officer at Cyber Academy, training specialists in the field. On weekends, I run painting workshops.
What does art mean to you — as a woman, a expat, and a Ukrainian?
There are many layers.
At first, art helped me return to routine — regular painting, rooting myself in a new environment, finding like-minded people. It stabilises the nervous system. Regular shared activities are essential for mental health.
The second layer crystallised this year. In the studio, I work with watercolours, oil and acrylics, while Lyudmyla develops decorative art — Petrykivka paintings and the decoration of stones, wood, and other surfaces. Kosovar Albanians show great interest in Ukrainian culture, art, food, and traditions.
We see ourselves as guides of Ukrainian culture in Kosovo. We present our work at universities and communities, organise workshops, and focus particularly on the Petrykivka painting. This year, I have created the calendar 2026 “A Year of Ukrainian Culture in Kosovo”, which is a collection of artworks by visitors of my Art Atelier.
Through this work, I realised how deeply art is connected with symbols and mental states. Art reflects the artist’s psyche in a specific time and place.
I never planned this artistic activity. You can’t plan it — it comes from Self.
Over the past year, I have discovered my own symbols and archetypes. Artistic evolution mirrors personal transformation.
Culture is not created instantly; it is shaped over centuries.
What is Kosovo to you?
It is an extraordinary country with warm, open-hearted people. Ukrainians are treated with compassion and understanding. People here know what war is.
It is also a beautiful land, shaped by Illyrian, Roman and Ottoman history. Islamic traditions influence daily life. My home is surrounded by five mosques, and the call to prayer brings a sense of rhythm, stability and safety.
Even in its post-war state, this country offers a sense of safety through regularity and shared rhythms.
What have you learned from Kosovo — and what have you shared in return?
Family comes first here — and that is the most important lesson I’ve learned.
I have also shown that women can be visible, active, and lead. In my work at Cyber Academy, I introduced staff care strategies and the organisational structure, and refined the processes.
At the same time, I understand that I am a foreigner here — and always will be.
What is your mission today?
My mission is to create a space where people of any nationality can express themselves through art — a place to meet like-minded individuals and grow creatively.
Throughout my life, I have identified talents and helped people develop them. I want to continue doing this — not only in IT, but in art.
I also dream of establishing an art residency for young artists and helping them understand how to sustain themselves creatively.
And one personal dream remains: to see the Northern Lights. I’ve crossed the Arctic Circle, but never seen them. I don’t know why, but it’s been a long-held dream.
