Childhood Amidst Conflict

“We never thought something truly terrible would happen. We heard the sounds of bombing occasionally, but it never felt so close,” recalls 17-year-old Oleh, reflecting on his upbringing in Hnutove, a quaint village located about 20 kilometers east of Mariupol, which borders the self-proclaimed Donetsk People’s Republic. Many people overlook the fact that Russia’s war on Ukraine began back in 2014, soon after the Revolution of Dignity in Ukraine, which was followed by Russia’s occupation and annexation of Crimea, as well as its support for pro-Russian separatists fighting against the Ukrainian military in the Donbas region.

The award-winning documentary The Distant Barking of Dogs, released in 2017, poignantly captured the war’s impact on Ukraine through the eyes of a young Oleh, who was just 10 years old at the time. His childhood was forever marred by the conflict. Oleh was merely seven when the war erupted, and he remembers the frightening moments of seeking refuge in the basement to escape the deafening sounds of explosions and gunfire. “I was too young to grasp the gravity of the situation,” he reflects. Despite the ongoing war, Oleh managed to experience a semblance of normalcy in Hnutove, engaging in activities like volleyball and football, spending time with his two cousins, and attending school like any other child.

Seeking Shelter in Mariupol

When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022, Oleh could never have imagined the dire events that would unfold. Initially, he believed it was just another day, but as the sound of shelling intensified nearby, fear set in. In an attempt to reassure his younger cousins, he said, “They understood even less.” As the reality of the situation began to sink in, they quickly realized that the shelling was alarmingly close and more relentless than before. “We started to comprehend the seriousness of our predicament, that our lives could be in danger at any moment,” he added, emphasizing the importance of family unity during these trying times. “We couldn’t imagine life without each other and began to appreciate one another more,” he noted.

After the attack on Hnutove, Oleh’s family—which included his aunt, grandmother, father, and two cousins—made the decision to flee to Mariupol, believing it would offer a safer refuge. However, Mariupol was among the initial targets of the Russian military. This port city, located by the Sea of Azov, was historically significant for grain trade, metallurgy, and heavy engineering, including iconic establishments like the Illich Steel and Iron Works and Azovstal. The city was also viewed as a vital connection to Crimea.

In the days following the invasion, Russia unleashed a wave of carpet bombing on Mariupol. By March, residents found themselves deprived of power, running water, and gas supplies. Shortly thereafter, Russia initiated a brutal blockade, effectively cutting off the city, which had a population of around 400,000, from essential supplies. The situation became so dire that residents resorted to melting snow for drinking water, risking their lives by venturing out to cook on open flames.

Trapped for Two Months

Upon their arrival in the besieged city, Oleh and his family quickly realized they were ensnared in a precarious situation. Leaving Mariupol was no longer an option; trains had ceased operations, and the roads were fraught with peril—one could be killed by shelling or shot by Russian forces. They found themselves confined to a basement for two grueling months, isolated from the outside world. “Sometimes we would sit outside the basement to breathe in some fresh air when the explosions subsided,” Oleh reminisced. Alongside the constant barrage of shelling, they were oblivious to the fate of Mariupol and the rest of Ukraine.

“We dreaded the sound of planes overhead, especially when they flew at night, dropping bombs,” he added, recalling the fear that permeated their nights. Each excursion outside for basic necessities felt like a potential last goodbye. An explosion could be heard in an apartment building after a Russian tank fired in Mariupol on March 11, 2022.

“We were fortunate that the owner of a nearby second-hand shop opened his doors to us, allowing us to take clothes to stay warm. That became our refuge for blankets, jumpers, hats, and mittens,” Oleh explained. When it came to water and food, they resorted to drinking from the heating system once they ran out of supplies. “We attempted to reach a nearby well, but it was often under fire, and we encountered dead bodies on the ground,” he recounted.

Throughout this ordeal, Oleh and his family clung to the hope of returning home: “We longed for it deeply. Every night, we fell asleep with the hope that we could go back the next day.” After two months of enduring the harrowing conditions in Mariupol, they decided to return to Hnutove.

A Home Transformed

Upon returning home, Oleh discovered a landscape forever altered. The village, once a source of comfort, now felt alien and unsettling. His home, which he had envisioned as a sanctuary, had become a site of devastation, occupied by Russian soldiers who left it in disarray. “When we returned, we felt a strange presence in our own home. Sleep came difficult in our own beds,” the 17-year-old articulated.

According to Oleh, the village appeared frozen in time due to Russia’s full-scale invasion, with infrastructure in ruins, no access to water, disrupted transportation, and a lack of connection to nearby towns. Prices for basic goods had skyrocketed. As of February 2022, Hnutove remains under temporary Russian occupation. Unwilling to live under these circumstances and feeling unsafe in their own home, Oleh’s family opted to leave the temporarily occupied territories.

The Filtration Camp Experience

In order to escape, they had to pass through a Russian filtration camp. These camps are notorious for their brutal “security” checks. Ukrainians attempting to leave occupied territories face a perilous journey filled with checkpoints and filtration camps. Often, they are forced to traverse through Russia and third countries like Georgia or Belarus to reach Ukrainian-controlled territory. Direct routes from occupied areas are dangerous due to heavy military presence and ongoing combat.

A neighbor drove the family to a filtration camp located in a nearby village. Although Oleh doesn’t recall the exact location, he remembers a field filled with tents where people were subjected to interrogations. Research by the Media Initiative for Human Rights indicates that there were two filtration camps near Oleh’s hometown: Novoazovsk and Bezimenne. Both align with Oleh’s description of tents set up in a field-like area, but Bezimenne appeared to be closer, just a 45-minute drive from Hnutove.

Aksana Filipishyna, an analyst at the Ukrainian Helsinki Human Rights Union (UHHRU), noted that the Bezimenne filtration camp held around 5,000 Ukrainian refugees. “Refugees were crammed into overcrowded school buildings or tents, facing severe inspections,” she explained. Reports of poor nutrition and a lack of medical care were rampant. “Some individuals who underwent filtration mentioned that there were fatalities due to inadequate medical attention,” she continued, adding that detainees were often unable to leave freely until they successfully “passed filtration.”

Human rights abuses, including torture and extrajudicial killings, were frequently reported. After the filtration process, many Ukrainians found themselves forcibly deported to Russia, despite the Russian government framing these relocations as “evacuations.”

Understanding the Purpose of Filtration Camps

Filipishyna outlined two primary objectives of these camps. “The first was to identify and neutralize individuals viewed as disloyal to the Putin regime,” she explained. This included pro-Ukrainian individuals, current or former military personnel, activists, government officials, and others perceived as threats to Russian occupation. “Once such individuals were identified, they were often separated from their families and subjected to physical and psychological abuse,” she noted.

“Many of these individuals ended up in Russian prisons or camps, with their whereabouts remaining unknown for extended periods,” Filipishyna added, highlighting that those who failed the filtration process were often sent to notorious facilities like Olenivka.

The second objective was to manage the movement of Ukrainian refugees within Russian territory. Following the siege of Mariupol, Russia faced challenges in distributing refugees, prompting the establishment of these camps to “control their relocation.” Refugees underwent fingerprinting, body searches, and interviews before being dispatched to various Russian cities for temporary accommodation.

“We first became aware of these concentration areas for civilians undergoing inspection and interrogation procedures following the siege of Mariupol,” explained the UHHRU analyst. In a desperate bid for survival, people sought to escape amid relentless bombardment from Russian armed forces. The constant rocket attacks and destruction of civilian infrastructure left many with nowhere to find refuge. While some managed to reach territory under Ukrainian control, others were compelled to cross into Russia. Filipishyna noted that filtration measures were first encountered by Ukrainians attempting to cross the Ukrainian-Russian border in February and March 2022.

Research from Yale University has identified at least 21 Russian filtration camps in Donetsk Oblast.

Experiencing Fear and Uncertainty

In the camp, Oleh was acutely aware that he and his family were at the mercy of Russian soldiers. “I knew they could do anything to us,” he said. “They told me not to be scared. If they wanted to kill me, they would have already done so,” the 17-year-old recalled.

While awaiting his father, who was still undergoing interrogation, Oleh witnessed a young woman being forcibly dragged from a tent by soldiers. “They covered her head and shoved her into a car,” he remembered. He never discovered her fate, nor whether she remained alive or what transpired. “It was horrifying to watch. They reveled in humiliating the detainees,” he added, describing the brutality he witnessed.

While waiting for his father, he heard the chilling sounds of people being beaten, tortured, and verbally abused. His father, unaware of what was happening to his son, believed that Oleh was among those screaming. The soldiers interrogating his father maliciously informed him that his son had been captured and would never be seen again. “My father screamed in desperation: ‘No, no, no! Take me instead! Don’t take my son!’” Oleh recounted, expressing the cruelty of the soldiers, who laughed at his father’s anguish. Fortunately, they eventually released his father.

On March 22, 2024, children deported from settlements adjacent to Ukraine boarded a train to relocate to Penza, in Belgorod, Russia. Ukrainian children were frequently sent to camps across temporarily occupied Crimea and various Russian regions, including Moscow and Rostov, Filipishyna explained. “Over 40 locations have been identified where Ukrainian children were taken,” she stated. Ukrainian authorities estimate that around 19,500 children have been deported, though the true number could be significantly higher.

The United Nations has classified the deportations of Ukrainian children as a war crime, with the International Criminal Court (ICC) issuing arrest warrants for Russian President Vladimir Putin and Maria Lvova-Belova, the Presidential Commissioner for Children’s Rights. According to international law, including the 1948 Genocide Convention, these deportations may constitute acts of genocide.

A Journey to Safety

After enduring the filtration camp experience for several hours, Oleh and his family embarked on a journey through Russia to reach the safety of the Baltic states. He recalls the stressful crossing at the Ludonka checkpoint, one of the last remaining open land border crossings between Russia and the European Union.

After successfully passing the border, they continued their journey without pause until they reached Warsaw, where they stayed for three days. Oleh fondly remembers how well they were treated by volunteers: “They even provided us with fruit and drinking water.” Following their brief stay in Warsaw, they made their way to Kyiv, where they currently reside.

Longing for Home

The ongoing war in Ukraine has left profound psychological scars on children, affecting not only those who have lived through the conflict since 2014 but also those impacted by the full-scale invasion. Oksana Pysarieva, a psychologist at the Voices of Children charity foundation, explains that the trauma is widespread, affecting even those far from the front lines. Children throughout the country are grappling with separation from loved ones, a pervasive fear of death, and a sense of lost security.

While younger children may exhibit immediate reactions and vivid memories, teenagers are often showing signs of anxiety, depression, and disorientation, Pysarieva explains. The long-term psychological effects, however, remain uncertain. The harsh realities of war will undoubtedly shape the lives of these children, influencing their choices, values, and perceptions of safety.

Oleh, along with his cousin and grandmother, continues to hold onto the memories of his hometown. “I often think about home and the river where I spent every summer as a child,” he shares wistfully. “My greatest wish is to one day return to say a proper goodbye, as we left so abruptly. We didn’t even have the chance to take all our family photos,” he explains, adding that he longs to retrieve his grandmother’s sewing machine, an item she cherishes deeply.