Olga Betko from the BBC World Service writes about travelling to Nigeria with Ukraine's famous television presenter Myroslav Kuvaldin in search of his long-lost father and to find out more about his African heritage.
Myroslav last saw his father when he was four
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With his dark skin and his huge mane of dreadlocks, Myroslav Kuvaldin is often seen as a foreigner in his motherland, Ukraine.
"I've been asked many times where I learnt Ukrainian. My favourite answer is: 'Do you know how harshly I was beaten to learn it?'"
But jokes apart, I asked him what was the hardest aspect of being a "foreigner"? Was he really beaten, bullied or hated?
"Absolutely not! I feel very comfortable in this country, and in my body... Of course, I heard people calling me: 'Black bottom' - but so what? That's true after all."
"Being different, you can perceive it as your disadvantage and suffer all your life, or you can take it as a God's gift, and turn yourself into a hero. I have chosen this second way - to embrace the duality in my life, and became a poet, a musician and a TV personality."
'Closed city'
But he has not seen his father since he was four years old and says: "Something is missing. I know only half of myself".
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Dear Dad, if you read this letter, and if you would be willing to meet me, please, reply to my e-mail address.
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Myroslav's father, a Nigerian student, came to study in the Soviet Union in the mid-1970s.
During the Cold War, the Soviet Union was anxious to promote its friendly "internationalist" image, and free higher education was offered to students from developing countries.
Myroslav's father was one of those who benefited and he met Myroslav's mother when they studied medicine together.
Myroslav was born in one of the so-called "closed cities", Dnieprodzershynsk in eastern Ukraine, a centre for the military industry.
Foreigners were not allowed anywhere near the city, and even Myroslav's father could not go there to visit him.
Father's name
In 1980, Myroslav's father graduated from a Soviet medical institute and flew back to his homeland.
Twenty four years later, Myroslav wanted to meet his father and discover Nigeria for himself.
Myroslav lived with his grandparents until he was three
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But he had almost no clues where to find him and could not even be sure that he was still alive.
Myroslav cheered up when he received an archive document from the medical institute where his father graduated.
It was an autobiography in his father's own handwriting, and for the first time in his life Myroslav found out how to correctly spell his father's name.
When he arrived in Lagos, he was amused to find out that he looked different there, too.
"For the first time in my life I was called a 'white guy'."
But he met many people in Lagos who were touched by the story of this "white guy" who came all the way to trace his roots in Africa.
A whole army of enthusiastic helpers joined the search for his father.
Time difference
After dozens of phone calls and introductions, Myroslav met a woman by the name of Jolomi, and when she started to read the autobiography... she suddenly recognised the name of his grandmother.
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I belong to neither the world of the whites, nor the blacks, but I can understand both of these worlds
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"Wowonu Dorti... yes yes yes - that's my auntie," she said.
In no time at all, Myroslav found himself immersed into the names and faces of his newly-found cousins, aunts and uncles, along with their spouses and off-spring, who rushed to "welcome home the white boy from Ukraine".
Just one person was still missing... but where was he?
Myroslav was stunned to find out that some three years ago his father went to work in Fiji - on the other side of the world from both Nigeria and Ukraine.
He realised that he would not be able to see him this time, and the next best thing he could hope for was to talk to him over the phone.
The time difference between Nigeria and Fiji is 12 hours but at this point neither Myroslav, nor the family could wait any longer.
'World citizen'
"Hello, Dad," Myroslav said on his mobile phone.
"I search you and I find you," he continued, struggling with his English. "But you are in a different place."
Myroslav finally met his Nigerian family but not his dad
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"It was a very messy conversation," Myroslav later wrote in his diary. "I tried to explain myself in my poor English, and he in his forgotten Russian.
"At first he sounded confused, and it was obvious that he didn't quite understand what was going on.
"I understood that he remembered and loved me when he called me by my childhood name Myra. That was the main thing I wanted to know.
"But still, so many questions remain. I am sure he'll have a lot to tell me when I finally see him face-to-face. Just when and where?... That is the question."
Our stay in Nigeria was coming to an end, and I asked him whether he felt at home in Africa.
"People see me as a foreigner here as well... And, like in Ukraine, I have two choices here: on one hand, I can feel 'Everywhere a stranger', but on the other hand I can feel 'Everywhere at home' - a citizen of the world.
"I belong to neither the world of the whites, nor the blacks, but I can understand both of these worlds... I think I am privileged in this respect because this duality brings me more choice in life."