We are from the Kharkiv region, from the city of Vovchansk. When the war began on February 24, 2022, we found ourselves in occupied territory on the very first day. My husband was serving in the Armed Forces of Ukraine at the time, and my son was studying at the National Guard Academy. Both of them were on duty. My daughter and I spent a month and a half under occupation—no electricity, no communication. We lived in our house and cooked food over a fire. With great difficulty, we managed to leave.

​

We lived near Shebekino (city in the Belgorod region of Russia), just about five kilometers from the border. On the first day, troops entered, and tank columns passed by our home. The city was filled with Russian soldiers. They were searching for people with relatives in the military, interrogating them. Prisoners were taken to the Aggregate Plant, where they were tortured and mistreated. Thankfully, no one turned us in. We left on a road lined with destroyed civilian cars from those who had tried to escape. A week later, that route was completely closed—no one was allowed to leave.

​

My son graduated and became a lieutenant, but even in his third year, as soon as the war began, he was already stationed in Kharkiv and assigned to defense posts. They were defending the city back then. My husband was injured—he lost 10 centimeters of bone in his leg. Now, my son is also in critical condition.

​

I gave birth to him when I was 21, and tomorrow he’ll turn 22. We’re hopeful that he’ll pull through. He’s strong; he’ll make it. Right now, we’re here by his side in the hospital. Alla Dmytrivna provided us with a room. We likely won’t return home because everything there is destroyed—practically nothing is left. We had a private house. When we left, we only took a bag of clothes. The house, the car—everything is still there…

​

I worked as a cashier in a store, while my husband served in the Armed Forces of Ukraine and previously worked as a CNC lathe operator at a factory. At that time, Roma was still studying. He was injured near Sloviansk, suffering a head wound. Now he’s receiving massages and treatment for bedsores—they were severe while we were in another hospital. Currently, he’s gaining weight; when he was brought in, his condition was critical. He’s improved a bit now, but back then, he was on the brink. They are working to strengthen him and plan to fit him with a plate. If they manage to do so, his chances of recovery will improve.

​

How do we manage financially? I’m still officially employed, and my employer is supportive—they process sick leave or record my days. We also receive internally displaced persons (IDP) payments. (Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) are those who were forced to leave or abandon their place of residence as a result of or to avoid the negative consequences of armed conflict, temporary occupation, widespread violence, human rights violations, and natural or man-made emergencies.) When we left, we ended up in Pivdennoukrainsk in the Mykolaiv region, where we rented an apartment. I worked at a kindergarten—my daughter attended there, and I went to work with her. Since learning about my son’s injury, I’ve been by his side constantly. He was wounded on November 3, 2023. It’s now been seven months…

​

My daughter is five years old. There are other children here, and she plays with them. Our father is also with us now. He’s in the room at the moment, as they’ve fitted him with an Ilizarov apparatus again. After his treatment, his leg didn’t heal properly, so we’re starting over from the beginning…

​

Did we ever think such a war would begin? I couldn’t even imagine it… Before, even before 2014, people from Shebekino used to come to us all the time for groceries, clothing—they would freely visit and shop here. When the war started, Roma was studying, and their base was in a forest near Vovchansk. The shelling began, and they ran out of their huts, grabbing whatever they could.

 

They were loaded into vehicles and taken to Kharkiv… I believe everything will be alright. Roma is strong; he will recover. For some reason, I have no doubts. I am certain he’ll pull through. They’ll fit him with a plate in Kyiv, where there’s a doctor who gives us hope and believes in Roma. Yes, his head injuries are severe, and a fragment is still there. They said it’s better not to touch it for now, to wait…

​

When he was serving, he only came home once—for New Year’s. When we got the call about his injury, we immediately left to see him. He was initially sent to Dnipro, where we came to see him, but he was only there for a day. Then he was moved to Vinnytsia. We stayed in Vinnytsia, in Kyiv, and now we’re here… Thank God, at least there’s progress here.

​

We have a Russian surname—Sokolovy—from my husband. I suppose my husband’s roots are somewhere in Russia. But we don’t have any relatives there. In fact, no one even knows about us. Even my grandmother doesn’t know that Roma was injured. She lived in Vovchansk until the very last moment. When the fighting began, I told her she needed to leave because everything would be shelled and bombed. She left. Now she’s in the Kharkiv region. Grandmother knows Roma is serving—and that’s all. She loves him very much…

​

Many people are praying for him—strangers we met in Vinnytsia. They’ve helped us so much, just ordinary people who continue to support us, call us, and help us even now. Galya, a volunteer, deserves immense gratitude!

​

​