When the first explosions rang out across Ukrainian cities in February 2022, millions of children lost not only their homes but their sense of safety. Today, over three years into Russia's full-scale invasion, Ukraine's children are growing up not with playgrounds and cartoons, but with air-raid sirens, concrete shelters, and the distant thuds of artillery.
According to UNICEF, more than 1.5 million Ukrainian children have been displaced since the beginning of the war. Thousands now live in front-line regions, where daily missile threats make conventional schooling impossible. But even in the darkest circumstances, Ukrainian society has found ways to adapt, protect, and educate its youngest citizens—sometimes from underground.
Underground Classrooms, Overground Dreams
In Kharkiv, a city just 40 kilometers from the Russian border, some of the most remarkable innovations in wartime education are happening beneath the surface. Literally.
"This is our second school year in the metro," he says Olena Turchyn, a 12-year-old student attending classes inside a repurposed subway station. Her makeshift classroom is lined with desks, whiteboards, and colorful posters—all underground. "We feel safer here, and we even have real teachers."
The Kharkiv Metro School Project, coordinated by local authorities and volunteers, offers formal education to hundreds of children who cannot attend above-ground schools due to persistent shelling. The program, supported by the Ministry of Education and UNICEF, includes a structured curriculum, psychosocial support, and even sports activities—adapted for tight quarters.
Art Therapy Amid the Air Raids
Children are not just learning math and grammar underground. They're painting, singing, and processing trauma through art.
In Dnipro and Zaporizhzhia, mobile teams of psychologists have been using art therapy to help children express what they cannot say aloud. Ten-year-old Marko, who spent three weeks trapped in a basement during an airstrike in Avdiivka, now draws his “house with no roof” and “a soldier who saved my mom.”
"We can't erase the war from their memories," he says Larysa Holub, a trauma psychologist from Lviv. "But we can give them tools to cope with it, to make sense of it."
These efforts are also digital. Ukraine has launched “School without Walls”, a national remote learning platform that now includes over 300,000 students. Lessons are recorded from real classrooms, broadcast on national television, and distributed via YouTube and Telegram. Even children in occupied territories access them secretly through VPNs.
Voices from the Shadows
In interviews collected by Reuters, the BBC, and independent Ukrainian journalists, children share glimpses of war that no child should ever know:
"I can tell by the sound if it's a drone or a missile now," says the 13-year-old Sofia from Mykolaiv.
"We made a game out of running to the shelter. I always try to be first," says the 9-year-old Danylo from Sumy.
"My little sister doesn't talk anymore. She just covers her ears every time the siren goes off," says Irina, 15.
Their testimonies paint a stark portrait: of resilience, but also of cost. The psychological scars may linger long after the war ends.
The World Must Not Look Away
Ukraine's children are not just victims of this war. They are survivors, students, poets, brothers, sisters, dreamers. They are also the next generation of Ukrainians who will rebuild a wounded nation.
International support is vital not only to win the war but to protect its youngest generation from a lifetime of trauma. Education, shelter, and psychological care are no longer luxuries—they are lifelines.
As the bombs fall, Ukraine continues to teach its children not just how to survive, but how to live.
If you want to help: Consider supporting verified initiatives like Voices of Children (voices.org.ua) or UNICEF Ukraine. Or visit Ukraine yourself to learn, witness, and share the truth.
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