Ukraine’s children face enduring trauma from nearly a decade of war

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Russia’s war on Ukraine started in 2014, following Ukraine’s Revolution of Dignity.

Soon after, masked Russian soldiers in unmarked uniforms, known as “little green men“, invaded Ukraine’s Crimean Peninsula. In April 2014, a commando led by Russian nationalist Igor Girkin “seized” the city of Slovyansk in Ukraine’s eastern Donetsk Oblast.

After several months of fighting, Ukrainian forces launched a summer offensive, recapturing Slovyansk on 5 July 2014. Slovyansk remained under Ukrainian control, with the war shifting to other areas, primarily around Donetsk and Luhansk.

Back then, Olena Rozvadovska worked in the Ukrainian office of Commissioner of the President of Ukraine for Children’s Rights.

“We didn’t know how to work with children in a war zone, as Ukraine had never experienced something like this before in our lifetime,” she told Euronews. “We’ve only seen war on TV, and they all seemed so far away, but in 2014, war was just a five-hour train journey away.”

At the beginning of 2015, she left the office of the Commissioner of the President of Ukraine for Children’s Rights and moved to the Donbas as a volunteer to help children affected by the war. 

Back then, there were no drone strikes or large-scale missile attacks, but mostly artillery, snipers and land mines.

“When I came to Slovyansk in 2015, pro-Russian rebels were squeezed into Donetsk”, she said. “It was relatively safe there because the big missiles and ground rockets couldn’t reach that far. It was a different kind of war.”

A village cut in half

In 2015, life in Slovyansk andMariupol started to feel relatively normal again, as long as one steered clear of the front line. Rozvadovska worked in Zaitseve, a village closer to the front line, around 22 kilometres fromBakhmut. “It was full-on war”, she recalled. 

She remembers her stay starting in Slovyansk, where life felt normal. In the morning, she’d get a coffee and essentials at the supermarket and drive to Zaitseve, where it felt like stepping into a different world.

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

“There were no roads, phone connections were spotty, and the people lived in extreme poverty.”

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

“Of course, it wasn’t possible to cross the front line directly”, Rozvadovska explained. “By 2015, there were five checkpoints through which you could leave the occupied areas. So these two girls lived in the same village, but her friend would have had to take a long, risky, roundabout journey, far away, to visit her.”

Why not leave?

The first instinct when war comes to your doorstep is to leave everything behind and flee. Many, however, decided to stay. 

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

“Sometimes, you come across families where it seems they just don’t care about their children’s well-being. 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 own lives harder. Moving requires not just money, but motivation and physical strength.”

She told the story of one specific situation that’s stuck with her. 

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

“We stopped pushing after that, because in the beginning, you think, ‘OK, they’re poor, maybe if we give them $10,000, they can start a new life.’ But they didn’t. Some people don’t want to change, and you can’t save them. Unfortunately, the children are trapped in those situations.”

“He doesn’t recognise civilians, only soldiers”

Of course, some families deeply cared about their children but decided to stay. “I remember a woman, Tanya, from a frontline village inLuhansk Oblast, which is now occupied and destroyed. She was very pro-Ukrainian, living with her parents on a farm with cows and land.”

They supported Ukrainian soldiers and prepared meals for them daily. Tanya later married a local boy who became a soldier, and they had two babies. The only people their children saw were soldiers and her parents, she recalled.

When she visited them at their house near the front line, their youngest child would start crying and run away. According to Tanya, the child wasn’t used to seeing anyone not wearing a military uniform. “He doesn’t recognise civilians, only soldiers”, Tanya told Rozvadovska.

Rozvadovska asked why Tanya didn’t leave.

“Her motivation was deeply rooted in the fact that it was their land. They had lived there for generations, from grandmothers to great-grandmothers”, she explained. For people in villages, it’s about roots. Their ancestors worked on the land, and their relatives are buried in the local cemetery. For them, leaving feels like losing a part of themselves.”

“Peeling off their skin and trying to live without it”

“For them, leaving would feel like peeling off their skin and trying to live without it”, Rozvadovska continued. “Tanya and her family cared so much about their farm and animals. During the worst times, especially in 2015, when the fighting was intense in their village, everyone else left. But Tanya and her parents stayed.”

They fled into the forest, drank rainwater, and lived in hiding for two to three months with their cows, waiting for the situation to calm down. They stayed with relatives for a while, and once the fighting slowed and things became somewhat normal, they returned.

From 2016 to 2022, life in their village gradually reverted to normal, even though they remained on the front. Tanya had her children, and according to Rozvadovska, she worked hard to provide them with a better life.

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

But after the full-scale invasion in 2022, Tanya had to flee because of her pro-Ukrainian stance.

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

Tanya became a role model for Rozvadovska. She faced the most extreme effects of war, but her positive thinking and resilience kept her going. “From people like her, I’ve learned how important it is to prioritise your well-being. In the same circumstances, one person might break while another survives.”

Voices heard

Rozvadovska’s experience has shown her that it’s often women who are left behind to manage things.

“I’ve met so many brave, ordinary women who don’t even realise how strong they are. They’ve had a profound influence on me”, she revealed. Over several years, she witnessed the resilience of women supporting their communities amid chaos, often without recognition.

In 2019, Rozvadovska and Ukrainian journalist Azad Safarov founded the Voices of Children Charitable Foundation, an organisation set up to meet the long-term psychological needs of children affected by war.

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 observation, it takes time for children to process their experiences,” Rozvadovska said, “sometimes years.”

She explained how life in Ukraine since the start of Russia’s assault requires a constant process of adaptation, especially for those working in mental health.

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

In response to the escalating psychological toll on children, Voices of Children has expanded its reach across Ukraine, offering therapy, art programs, and emotional support in cities near the front. The foundation’s team of psychologists uses creative methods to help children manage anxiety, depression, and trauma.

Bracing for the aftermath

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 normalised.

This constant state of terror takes its toll,especially on children.

According to Oksana Pysarieva, a psychologist at Voices of Children, the trauma is pervasive, touching even those far from the front lines. Children across the country feel the war’s impact through separation from loved ones, fear of death, and loss of security.

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

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

Rozvadovska’s view is that Ukraine is not prepared to address the comingmental health crisis, especially given the psychological effects of trauma often surface long after the immediate crisis has passed.

“The scale is massive,” she warned.