Ivan's story

Words from Ivan:

Ivan first started becoming aware of Ukraine back in 2019 through an online game.

“[In the game's chat] There was a joke about the Luhansk region and the president. At the time, Zelensky had just been elected. I got curious to know if these people were from Luhansk and whether we could become friends. I asked, messaged them, and found out they were actually from Dnipro. But we kept talking anyway, and we became friends.

Basically, you could say it was a new awareness. At that moment, it wasn’t about openly expressing my identity. We started talking about the war, the occupation, and so on. That’s when I realised I was living under occupation. 

I began watching different news programmes. I learned more about the events of 2014, and even earlier. That’s when my pro-Russian stance shifted to something more moderate about 50–50.

And if we’re talking about the moment when my position fully changed and my identity became clear that was in 2022, during the full-scale invasion."

"At that time [in 2022], I wasn’t in Luhansk—I was in Russia, in the Moscow region. At first it was just about wanting to meet up with friends [in Ukraine], but then it turned into wanting to leave completely and never return to Russia. That’s one of the main reasons. First, I don’t want to live among Russians. Second, I want to see my friends. And third—the army.

They were encouraging us to join the youth army. Also, when I was in school, we had this popular Cossack corps basically, just Cossacks. You could join, and a lot of parents sent their kids there.

No one knew I was planning anything or even that I had friends [in Ukraine]. Everyone, well, my parents, they’re pro-Russian and hate Ukraine, just saw that I was always talking to someone [online], texting them, but they didn’t know who it was and never found out.

I think of my first step as coming up with the idea and making a plan. But physically, I guess you could say it started when I went to work to save money so I could leave.

On the morning of January 11, one day before my 18th birthday, I went to Rostov. That same evening, I went to Moscow. As I turned 18, I entered Belarus and by January 13 I was in Minsk, where I got a white passport. That evening, I went to Brest, and by January 14 I was in Ukraine. Then I travelled to Dnipro, arriving in the morning on the 15th.

My very first passport was from the LNR [Luhansk People’s Republic]. When I was supposed to get a Ukrainian passport, my parents refused, so I only ended up with this one. This is my second passport, which I got in January—four months later, at age 14. It’s an internal Russian passport. And my third passport, a foreign one so I could go to Belarus.

For me, it’s just a keepsake. A lot of people used to ask how I could prove I came from an occupied area—well, this is my proof. This is my real passport [Ukrainian passport], the one I should have gotten back then but didn’t. Now I finally have it, and it feels amazing.

While I was traveling, it was the most fear and stress I’ve ever felt in my life. Because of that, I was even diagnosed with PTSD here."

Once children and young people return, Save Ukraine provide trauma-informed care, therapy, and programmes to help them heal, regain stability, and reintegrate into Ukrainian society.

“It’s really hard for me to know that so many kids are still living under occupation. And one topic that’s especially painful for me is the children from the older occupied territories—those who were born during the occupation, after 2014. They don’t actually know what Ukraine is, and they don’t know Ukrainian because they’ve never heard it.

They’ve been completely raised and educated in Russian. You could say they’re an entirely Russian generation. That’s probably the hardest thing for me personally when it comes to these kids. I think 95% of them will live in Russia or stay in Luhansk. Maybe 5% at most will understand, learn, and change."

Ivan now works for Save Ukraine.

“Save Ukraine is a charitable organisation that rescues children from occupied territories, providing them with rehabilitation, support, and protection. I’ve been working here for about four months maybe a little less. 

I’m doing the work I couldn’t find when I left the occupied territory. I’m doing the kind of work I would have needed myself back in Luhansk."

"Some children I’ve been in touch with for more than three months. Some I’ve talked to for about a week. It varies. Overall, I’ve worked with more than 25 maybe 30 children. Most are between 15 and 16.

Sometimes we connect with other children through those who have already returned.

We can reach out to them, ask if they want or need help or, if it’s safe, the person who has returned can ask them directly if they also need help.

I can tell you about one 17-year-old girl I spoke with this morning first thing today.

Her situation is a lot like mine. She’s been living under occupation in the Donetsk region since 2014. Her parents don’t want her to leave, but she does.

I know that life in Donetsk has gotten much worse than it was before that’s the first thing that has an impact. The girl who, like me once, became interested in Ukrainian culture something touched her, and she started learning more about Ukraine, its culture, and its history. Most likely, she’ll wait until she turns 18 but maybe she’ll leave sooner.

This is actually one of the most important tools or, you could say, advantages. The fact that I’ve had similar experiences means I can understand the child, and they can understand me, because we grew up in the same environment. It makes it easier to find common ground.”