Ukrainian Children and the Lasting Trauma of Ten Years of War

It is sometimes easy to forget that Russia’s war against Ukraine began in 2014, following the Revolution of dignity from Ukraine.

Shortly after, masked Russian soldiers in unmarked uniforms, known as “little green men” (or “polite men”, or “ikhtamnety”, Russian for “theyarenotthere”), invaded Crimea. The so-called “referendum” ratified the annexation of the Ukrainian peninsula. In April 2014, a commando unit led by the Russian nationalist Igor Girkine (later to become a Kremlin critic) “seized” the city of Sloviansk in Donetsk Oblast, eastern Ukraine.

After several months of fighting, Ukrainian forces launched a summer offensive, retaking Sloviansk on July 5, 2014. The city remained under Ukrainian control as the war shifted to other regions, primarily around Donetsk and Luhansk.

At that time, Olena Rozvadovska worked in the Ukrainian office of the Presidential Commissioner for Children’s Rights.

“We didn’t know how to work with children in a war zone, because Ukraine had never had such an experience in its lifetime,” she told Euronews. “We had only seen the war on television, and they all seemed so far away, but in 2014, the war was only a five-hour train ride away.”

In early 2015, she left the office of the Presidential Commissioner of Ukraine for Children’s Rights and went to Donbas as a volunteer to help children affected by the war.

At that time there were no strikes drones or large-scale missile attacks, but mostly artillery, snipers and land mines.

“When I arrived in Sloviansk in 2015, the pro-Russian rebels had retreated to Donetsk,” she explains. “Security there was relatively good, because big missiles and ground rockets couldn’t reach that far. It was a different kind of war.”

A village cut in two

In 2015, life in Slovyansk andMariupol began to seem relatively normal again, as long as one stayed away from the front line. Ms. Rozvadovska worked in Zaitseve, a village closer to the front line, about 22 kilometers fromBakhmout“It was total war,” she recalls.

She remembers the beginning of her stay in Sloviansk, when life seemed normal. In the morning, she would grab a coffee and some basic necessities from the supermarket and go to Zaitseve, where she felt like she had entered a different world.

Many people left and only a few families remained in the village, living in ruins. Ms Rozvadovska remembers about five children left behind, living in constant danger, without electricity or access to shops. “It was desolate. The only people there were soldiers,” she said.

“There were no roads, telephone connections were sporadic and people lived in extreme poverty.

In 2015, Zaitseve was divided by the front line. One part of the village was under Ukrainian control, the other was occupied. Ms. Rozvadovska met a young girl called Diana, whose family home was on the Ukrainian-controlled side, while her friend lived under occupation a few meters away, on the same street.

“Of course, it was not possible to cross the front line directly,” Rozvadovska says. “In 2015, there were five checkpoints to leave the occupied areas. So these two girls lived in the same village, but her friend would have had to make a long, risky and circuitous journey, very far away, to visit her.”

Why not leave?

The first instinct when war is upon us is to leave everything behind and flee. Yet many have decided to stay.

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Ms. Rozvadovska met many families who stayed, despite living near a combat zone. “For those who stayed, there are often different individual reasons,” she explains.

“Sometimes you come across families who seem to be uninterested in the well-being of their children. It’s as if the children’s feelings don’t matter. They don’t want to leave because they don’t want to make their lives more difficult. To move, you need not only money, but also motivation and physical strength.”

She recounted a particular situation that had an impact on her.

“We gave everything to a family. We helped them move, we paid for everything and we bought another house. After a year, they came back,” she sighs.

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“We stopped pushing after that, because at first you think, ‘Okay, they’re poor, maybe if you give them $10,000 they can start a new life.’ But that’s not the case. Some people don’t want to change and you can’t save them. Unfortunately, children get trapped in these situations.”

“He doesn’t recognize civilians, only soldiers”

Of course, some families care deeply about their children, but they decide to stay. “I remember one woman, Tanya, from a frontline village in the‘Luhansk Oblastnow occupied and destroyed. She was very pro-Ukrainian and lived with her parents on a farm with cows and land.

They supported the Ukrainian soldiers and cooked meals for them every day. Later, Tanya married a local boy who became a soldier, and they had two children. The only people their children saw were the soldiers and her parents, she recalls.

When she visited them in their house near the front line, their youngest child would start crying and running away. According to Tanya, the child was not used to seeing someone who was not wearing a military uniform. “He doesn’t recognize civilians, only soldiers,” Tanya told Rozvadovska.

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Mrs. Rozvadovska asked why Tanya had not left.

“His motivation was deeply rooted in the fact that this was their land. They had lived here for generations, from grandmother to great-grandmother,” she explained. “For the people in the villages, it’s about roots. Their ancestors worked the land and their loved ones are buried in the local cemetery. For them, leaving is like losing a part of themselves.”

“To shed your skin and try to live without it.

“For them to leave would be like tearing their skin off and trying to live without it,” Rozvadovska continues. “Tanya and her family cared so much about their farm and their animals. In the worst times, especially in 2015, when there was intense fighting in their village, everyone left. But Tanya and her parents stayed.”

They took refuge in the forest, drank rainwater and hid for two or three months with their cows, waiting for the situation to calm down. They stayed with relatives for a while and when the fighting calmed down and things became a little more normal, they returned.

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From 2016 to 2022, life in their village gradually returned to normal, even though they remained on the front lines. Tanya had children and, according to Ms. Rozvadovska, she worked hard to give them a better life.

“She even bought an old car to take her children to kindergarten in a nearby town. She was happy and full of life despite everything.”

But after the full-scale invasion in February 2022, Tanya had to flee due to her pro-Ukrainian positions.

“I kept in touch with her, asking if she needed anything. She always replied: ‘I have everything.’ Even though she lost a lot, she managed to repair and renovate an old house in Zhytomyr Oblast and get on with her life.”

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Tanya has become a role model for Ms Rozvadovska. She faced the most extreme effects of the war, but her positive thinking and resilience kept her going. “From people like her, I learned how important it is to put your well-being first. In the same circumstances, one person can collapse while another survives.”

Voices heard

Rozvadovska’s experience has shown her that it is often women who are left to deal with things on their own.

“I have met so many brave, ordinary women who don’t even realize how strong they are. They have had a profound influence on me,” she revealed. For years, she has witnessed the resilience of women who support their communities in the midst of chaos, often unrecognized.

In 2019, Ms Rozvadovska and Ukrainian journalist Azad Safarov founded Voices of Children, an organisation created to address the long-term psychological needs of children affected by war.

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Voices of Children’s mission focuses on empowering children, ensuring their experiences and voices are heard as they navigate the post-war landscape.

“From my observations, it takes time for children to assimilate their experiences,” Rozvadovska said, “sometimes years.”

She explains that life in Ukraine since the start of the massive Russian invasion requires a constant process of adaptation, especially for those working in the mental health field.

“The cases we deal with have changed since the start of the war of aggression in 2022. Initially, we dealt with immediate crisis support. Today, we deal with deeper issues such as grief and trauma. We now work with children who suffer from depression and self-harm, moving from shock to deeper emotional struggles.”

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Faced with the escalating psychological burden on children, Voices of Children has expanded its reach across Ukraine, providing therapy, art programs, and emotional support in cities near the front lines. The foundation’s team of psychologists uses creative methods to help children cope with anxiety, depression, and trauma.

Prepare for the consequences

Ukrainians, young and old, live in an atmosphere of constant threat. Russia frequently attacks all regions of the country with drones and missiles, and the sound of air raid sirens has become almost normal.

This state of permanent terror is wreaking havoc,especially in children.

According to Oksana Pysarieva, a psychologist at Voices of Children, Trauma is pervasive, affecting even those far from the front lines. Across the country, children are feeling the impact of war through separation from loved ones, fear of death and loss of security.

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While young children struggle with immediate reactions and memories, adolescents show signs of anxiety, depression and disorientation, Pysarieva explained.

The long-term effects remain uncertain, but children of war will carry the harsh realities of war throughout their lives, shaping their choices, values ​​and perceptions of security.

According to Ms. Rozvadovska, Ukraine is not ready to face themental health crisis which is looming, especially since the psychological effects of trauma often manifest long after the immediate crisis has ended.

“The scale of the crisis is considerable,” she warns.

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