Why Ukrainian kids are leaving the safety of Europe to return home

Some families are giving up new lives in the EU in favor of returning their children to Ukraine, where they have found that home is much better, even though it’s on fire.

“When I told him we were going back to Ukraine, he started jumping around, gathering his things,” says Inna Filatova, the mother of 7-year-old Lev.

Lev and his mother were forced to leave Ukraine soon after the full-scale invasion began, leaving his father and the rest of the family behind. They lived in Europe for two years, hoping the war would end soon so they could return home.

And they did return. But the war is still not over.

Inna Filatova and her son Lev in Austria, spring 2022. Photo provided by Inna.

As the war in Ukraine enters its fifth year, some Ukrainian families who initially fled the country are bringing their children back from Europe despite ongoing Russian attacks, even on cities far from the front line. They are returning despite the fact that the EU continues to provide temporary protection for millions of Ukrainians.

The children were forced to endure the stress of relocation, separation from loved ones, learning new languages, and integrating into an entirely new society — all against their will or desire. This might shape a whole new culturally divided generation in a country, split between those growing up in safety and a warzone.

Lev started preschool in Kharkiv at age two, and it seemed that, like many moms of kids around that age, Inna was on her way to restarting her career. She planned to stop living her own life according to her child’s sleep schedule and tantrums, and was already completing an internship for her first job after maternity leave.

“At that time [the beginning of the war], it was my internship. However, everyone had left, and I didn’t even get a chance to savor that peaceful, free, quiet life right after my child started daycare,” Inna said.

That’s because February 2022 arrived.

For Inna, the decision to leave the country was extremely difficult, even though Lev didn’t fully understand what was happening.

“I was really scared to go [abroad], especially with a child — he was 3 then. I heard a lot of stories about people being kidnapped when they just went off to who-knows-where, looking for a place to stay with some ‘volunteers’ — or rather, people who pretended to be volunteers but weren’t.”

Even before the full-scale invasion, Ukrainians were among the most vulnerable to human trafficking in Europe. Just a few hours after the invasion began, organizations sounded the alarm about the risks to refugees at overcrowded border crossings.

Traffickers could infiltrate genuine volunteer groups and chat rooms, and even create their own communities on social media under the guise of offering assistance. Human traffickers posed as volunteers, approaching refugees at train stations, on the streets, or near volunteer information points.

But it wasn’t just the threat of scammers that worried Inna Filatova. She said she left with a heavy heart because her husband and parents were staying behind in Ukraine. Her grandmother, who has diabetes and had lost a leg, couldn’t evacuate either — Inna’s sister remained to care for her. At the time, Inna wasn’t sure she would ever see them again.

They walked to the train station instead of driving because, at that time, it was impossible to call a taxi or wait for public transportation.

“I was carrying Lev because the weather was rainy, and I was worried his feet would get wet. That’s how we walked: I carried the baby, my husband carried the bags, and then we switched,” Inna said.

The journey from Kharkiv to Lviv on the evacuation train took about 20 hours.

Evacuation train, March 2022. Photo from BBC News Ukraine.

“When we were on the train, it was completely full, so people were even standing for the entire 20-hour ride. We were lucky to have one seat at a table in the carriage. Lev even managed to get some sleep there during the night,” Inna said.

In the past, when Inna and Lev traveled to Europe, they would get on a plane and land at a European airport within an hour or two. In 2022, the same trip took them more than two days.

“I arrived, not knowing anything, not knowing how things worked there. For the first few months, we had no money at all. I’d never experienced anything like that before; I even started losing hair on the top of my head from the stress,” Inna recalled.

Migration grief differs from natural loss, as one’s home country, family, or community never disappears entirely. The uncontrolled separation gives this grief a sense of incompleteness and a permanent feeling of new losses: loss of family structure, language, culture, social status, and group identity. Precisely because these losses become so numerous, refugees face an increased risk of complicated grief and multiple stressors.

Inna and Lev went to Austria because they had acquaintances there who could help them find a place to live and sort out the necessary paperwork. By mid-April 2022, more than 56,000 people fleeing the war in Ukraine were registered in Austria. By early May, that number had risen to over 64,000.

Lev sleeps on the train station floor on his way to Austria, March 2022. Photo provided by Inna.

But after arriving, Inna was concerned not only about her own mental state. She realized her responsibility for her son as he was having a very difficult time coping with all the sudden changes. “Everyone speaks German. And he is very shy, so I was really worried about him,” Inna said.

Children and adolescents who have experienced military violence, lost their homes, and been separated from their families have a PTSD prevalence rate of approximately 23 percent, a depression rate of 14 percent, and an anxiety disorder rate of 16 percent. School-age refugee children are often bullied because of differences in language, culture, and background, which exacerbates their isolation and anxiety and leads to lower academic performance.

Inna said Lev faced an uphill battle, as he wasn’t very outgoing, had a hard time building relationships in groups, and had faced bullying at his new preschool. Another boy was very rude to him and pushed him around, she said, and even though the teachers responded to this behavior, the situation was only fully resolved by switching kindergartens.

“He didn’t want to go; it scared him. And at the kindergarten, he waited for me to pick him up, watching me through the fence,” Inna said.

Inna didn’t know how long they would be in Austria. They had to move from one village to another several times and switch kindergartens due to housing difficulties.

This put a huge strain on Inna: “Everything good that happens in your life is connected to your child, and your child is connected to you. Everything bad that happens to you is also connected. I’m so fed up with it all that I can’t go anywhere on my own. It’s not just a week, or even a month.”

Lev in an Austrian kindergarten, 2022. Photo provided by Inna.

A year after the invasion began, more than a million people who had fled the war returned to Ukraine despite ongoing hostilities, uncertainty, and widespread destruction of infrastructure. The war has been going on for five years now, and what once seemed like a temporary solution — going to Europe for a short while until it was safe to return home — is now turning into a choice they must make. Either they accept that Europe is now their home and won’t see their loved ones in Ukraine much, or they return, despite the danger.

Inna and Lev stayed in Austria for almost two years before deciding to return. During those two years, they traveled to and from Ukraine several times to visit their family.

Lev missed his dad and his dog. He was always excited to hear news about his upcoming trip home, but every time he had to go back to Austria, he was disappointed.

“Traveling back and forth all the time to see my family and my husband is physically exhausting. Train tickets are very hard to get, and it takes forever by car or bus,” Inna said.

The decision to return had been brewing for quite some time, fueled by constant relocations and the stress of being so isolated.

The final straw was their last trip to Ukraine for Christmas. Inna and Lev had a wonderful time with their family and didn’t want to go back to Austria. On top of that, Lev became ill once they were on the train back — perhaps a sign of his reluctance to leave his dad and Ukraine, beginning to take a physical toll.

Celebration of Orthodox Christmas in Lviv. Photo from Getty Images.

“I was really exhausted taking care of Lev all by myself. I realized I had to either build a new life for myself or go back and live with my family — I couldn’t keep living alone, because it’s just too hard. There were times when I was emotionally exhausted, yelling at the child, screaming; the child would cry, I would cry, and everything around me was so depressing that I realized I couldn’t do this anymore. So I decided to go back,” Inna explained.

Inna and Lev returned to Kharkiv in 2024, two years after the full-scale invasion began. Kharkiv is located 18-25 miles from the Russian border and still suffers from regular attacks. Since then, they have heard explosions near their home numerous times, but it’s still been much easier for them there.

When children return to a conflict zone, the most important thing is to help them find a sense of security — both external and internal. In an environment where fear, mistrust, and violence become the norm, it is difficult for a child to form secure attachments or envision a positive future.

The more stressors a child has experienced, the more severe the disruptions to their mental and physical health, education, and social relationships. In other words, a child who has already gone through displacement and adaptation experiences an additional layer of trauma upon returning to a dangerous environment, which is added to the trauma already present.

“He really wanted to go back because he missed his dad so much, and he missed his dog. And in Kharkiv, he fit in at kindergarten perfectly. He still says, ‘My kindergarten in Kharkiv is the best,’” Inna said.

Those who have returned to Ukraine, like Inna and Lev, risk being forced to leave the country again in the blink of an eye. This was particularly evident this winter, when Russian attacks on the energy sector and the destruction of infrastructure triggered a cycle of emergency measures and plunged Ukrainian families into brutal sub-zero temperatures in their own homes.

This winter was difficult for their family, but Lev never once wanted to go back to live in Austria. He fondly recalls various little details from there and asks his mom to go there for vacation, but he wants to live in Ukraine with his dad.

In Kharkiv, even with the explosions, Inna said she finally has something she didn’t have in Austria — people around her, support, and the feeling that she’s not alone.

“I couldn’t bring myself to adapt; I just couldn’t do it. I thought I was going to lose my mind,” Inna said. “And I decided it was better for Lev to hear the explosions than for him to have a traumatic childhood because of me.”

NEWS OF THE DAY:

By Anastasiia Lutsenko

Good morning to readers; Kyiv remains in Ukrainian hands.

MOLDOVA FACES POWER CUTS AFTER RUSSIA STRIKES UKRAINE: A massive Russian attack on Ukraine knocked out Moldova’s cross-border “Isaccea‑Vulcănești” power line, cutting electricity from Romania. Prime Minister Alexandru Muntianu is calling a government meeting to propose a 60‑day energy emergency, according to Suspilne.media.

Authorities say repair crews will work after clearing debris from drones found near the damaged infrastructure, while alternative routes keep some power flowing. President Maia Sandu called Russia fully responsible and described the strike as a war crime against Moldova’s energy system.

US PRESSURES UKRAINE ON DONBAS, MAY SHIFT FOCUS TO IRAN: The U.S. is reportedly pushing Ukraine, alongside Russia, to withdraw troops from Donetsk. Sources say if talks stall, Washington could exit negotiations and focus on military operations in Iran, according to UP.

A Ukrainian official familiar with March 21–22 talks said, “Americans don’t see room to agree on the main issue. They might leave the process entirely and turn to Iran or their elections. They’re even ready to offer real security guarantees if we leave Donbas, but how to implement this in Ukraine is unclear.”

Negotiations trace back to the Trump-Putin Anchorage summit, which Russia keeps referencing, complicating real progress. Ukraine struggles to delay U.S. pressure on troop withdrawals while remaining dependent on Western financial support.

UKRAINIAN DRONE CRASHED IN LITHUANIA: A drone that crashed in Lithuania’s border area may have been Ukrainian, Defense Minister Robertas Kaunas said, according to Hromadske.

“It is very likely a Ukrainian drone, disrupted by electronic interference, that lost its way and fell here,” he said. The drone was reportedly targeting Primorsk port in Russia. Flying below 300 meters, it went undetected by Belarusian and Lithuanian radar.

Kaunas added that Lithuania has ordered additional low-altitude radar systems, expected to arrive in 2026–2028. The crash occurred the night of March 23, the same night Ukrainian drones struck Primorsk port in Russia’s Leningrad region, damaging a fuel storage tank.

IRISH REFINERY LINKED TO RUSSIAN ARMS SUPPLY: Leaked records show Aughinish Alumina in Ireland is part of a supply chain sending alumina to Russian smelters, including Krasnoyarsk, feeding companies producing weapons used in Ukraine. Exports rose sharply after Russia’s 2022 invasion, with almost 500,000 tonnes shipped in 2024, worth ~$200m, supporting about 25% of the smelter’s output, according to The Guardian.

While the trade is legal under EU law, the links to sanctioned arms producers raise questions about tracking raw materials to military end‑users. Aughinish and Irish authorities say all EU laws and sanctions are followed.

DOG OF WAR:

This is Yar, a battle dog born in Chasiv Yar who now lives in Lviv.

Stay safe out there.

Best,
Oleksandra