Ukrainian children are growing up in a world entirely reshaped by Russia’s war. Sirens, blackouts, and bomb shelters are nothing extraordinary - but a part of everyday childhood.This photo story follows five families as they raise their children in the shadow of the ongoing invasion. It’s not about the battlefield, but of bedrooms with windows shattered by blasts, morning routines interrupted by air raid alerts, and games played in underground shelters. The war seeps into the smallest moments.
Children, in their honesty and imagination, reflect truths that adults sometimes struggle to express.
Tina and Tymofii Tyshchenko
7 years old and 3 years old
The morning of Feb. 24, 2022, Tina and Tymofii’s mother Yuliia Tyshchenko woke up to feed then- 8-month-old Tymofii — when, for the first time, she heard the terrifying sound of the first explosions of the invasion. Within 10 minutes, Yuliia and her husband Bohdan Tyshchenko, had gathered their things, picked up their daughter Tina from her grandparents, and set off west, driving without a clear destination.
After the liberation of Kyiv Oblast, they returned home and now, they no longer want to leave. They are happy to be home.
They spent many nights hiding in the basement, but the children always got sick afterward. With no better option, they began taking shelter in their bathroom, even though they know it offers little real protection. 
Every day, the family says they thank God and Ukraine’s defenders for the morning, for waking up, and for being alive.
R: Tina and Tymofii Tyshchenko playing together on the sofa in the living room.
What superpower would you like to have and why?
Tina: The superpower of fire because it can destroy. I would first destroy (Russian President Vladimir) Putin, because he is very bad.
When I grow up, I’d buy, like, a gun or something, and I’d go and, um… pretend to be a Russian. And then I’d pick some poisonous berries — they don’t know what poisonous berries are. And then I’d give them some, and they’d all die and be dead.
I’d give Putin a worse death. And Russia too — a terrible one. Because Putin is very mean. And the president of Ukraine is much, much, much, much better.
Tina and Tymofii Tyshchenko pose for a photo, showing me how they hide in the bathroom during air-raid sirens.
Sofiia Ovsieienko
3 years old
Sofiia Ovsieienko was just five months old when Russia’s full-scale invasion began on Feb. 24, 2022. She and her mother, Kateryna Ovsieienko, fled Chernihiv under heavy shelling after spending three weeks in the city without electricity, water, or heating. They found temporary refuge in Germany, where they lived for six months before returning home.
Since returning, the war has shaped the rhythms of their daily life. After an explosion shattered their windows and a rocket fragment hit a neighboring apartment, going to the shelter during air raid alerts is a regular part of their routine. Sofiia knows what the sirens mean: time to run to the shelter. She does this at kindergarten, and she does it at home with her mom.
Sofiia doesn’t remember the beginning of the war. When she hears the air defense systems, she asks, “Who’s knocking?” The sound of knocking frightens her most.
She may not understand war, but she feels its presence every day.
Sofiia plays with toys in her bathroom. She and her mother hide there during drone attacks.
Sofiia Ovsieienko drinks water in the basement of a house that residents use as a shelter.
Matvii Yakymov
4 years old
When the war began, Matvii and his mother, Nina Logachova, left their home. His father stayed behind and joined the military. For six months, the mother and son lived with friends, first in Ukraine’s Carpathian Mountains, then in Portugal — before they returned.
Matvii is now in kindergarten. He loves robots and books. His favorite is “The Battle for the City,” a story that helps kids believe that light will overcome darkness and that evil will eventually be punished. He flips through the pages quickly, pausing to show the illustrations of war.
They still haven’t bought a mattress for the bathroom, where they hide during attacks. It’s hard to accept that this might be their reality for a long time. His mother’s calm helps, but she can’t silence the explosions that frighten Matvii so much.
When they travel abroad, Matvii remains tense, constantly asking his mother if the planes flying overhead are the “good ones.”
“Children are not made for war, fear, and despair in those little eyes. No children are,” Nina says.
Matvii lies on the bathroom floor after playing and reading books, just as he does during air-raid sirens.
Matvii Yakymov's favorite book, "Battle for the City".
Matvii plays a game where he protects those around from Russian missiles in the bathroom at home.
What superpower would you like to have and why?
Matvii: I want to have all the superpowers from the cartoon Dinoster to defeat bandits…and the biggest bandits are Russians.
Andrii Davydenko
10 years old
On the first day of the full-scale invasion, the Davydenko family woke up to the sound of a missile whistling over their home in Kyiv. They immediately fled to western Ukraine.
Now they’re back home. Andrii often sleeps in his parents’ closet, surrounded by his favorite panda and capybara stuffed animals. During missile attacks, the family shelters there or in their building’s parking garage. When sheltering, they play games or discuss their hopes for the future.
Every month, Andrii helps underprivileged children from the NGO Misto Dobra, buying them gifts with his pocket money and going through his own toys and clothes to donate to the children.
Andrii poses for a portrait in the pantry at the parking lot where his family hides during rocket attacks.
L: A shelf in Andrii Davydenko's room, filled with his toys and belongings. Among them, shell casings. R: Andrii Davydenko's ball and toy gun on his bedroom floor.
Andrii Davydenko sleeps in his parents’ dressing room, surrounded by his favorite panda and capybara toys.
Tymofii Moskalchuk
4 years old
At the beginning of the war, Timofii and his mother, Marharyta Valevach, left for Poland, while his father, Bohdan Moskalchuk, remained in Ukraine. Six months later, the family reunited and returned to Kyiv — because home is home, and everywhere else you’re a stranger.
War inevitably steals parts of childhood, and his parents are doing their best to lessen its impact. He won’t get another childhood. These are the years that will shape his memories, and his parents want him to remember trips to theme parks and visits to the village, not bomb shelters and the sound of Shahed drones.
Timofii is fascinated by building things out of whatever he can find. He also loves hiding in boxes or creating his own little shelters, though he can’t quite explain why he enjoys them so much.
Sometimes he likes to draw, and lately, he often draws explosions. Whether they come from missiles or from his imagination in a fictional game, it’s hard to say.
L: Tymofii hides in a “cage” he built himself from a chair and a toy bag in the kitchen. R: Tymofii Moskalchuk's painting of explosions.
for The Kyiv Independent