In a City Under Fire, One Woman Stays to Give Children Hope
For Lesia*, a resident of Sumy in northwest Ukraine, life under war has become a relentless exercise in navigating danger, uncertainty, and impossible choices. Her city now sits just 20 kilometers from the frontline, and with each passing week, the line creeps closer. Reports of nearby villages being occupied come every few days. Cluster munitions have already struck the city center.
Despite the constant threat, Lesia finds what little comfort she can in the ability to make decisions—decisions that feel meaningful when everything else is out of her control.
Air raid sirens wail endlessly—sometimes for days at a time. But like many in Sumy, she and her neighbors have adapted to the noise. Life must continue, even in its most fragile form. “We stay outside and continue to live,” she says. “Knowing we are risking our lives, knowing this coffee might be the last one.”
For families like Lesia’s, the question of whether to flee or stay weighs heavily. Home is not just a location; it’s family, memories, and the life one has built. With her loved ones unwilling or unable to leave, she and her daughter have chosen to stay. Her daughter has been sleeping in the hallway for months now, finding more safety there than beside her bedroom window.
With the school year over, some families are taking the opportunity to relocate—whether to a summer camp, a grandparent’s house, or a safer city. Others are leaving for good. Lesia sees their absence most clearly in the children who no longer show up to the classes she facilitates through the League of Modern Women, a local organization supported by Save the Children.
“One day, a child is laughing and enjoying the lesson,” she notes. “The next day, they’re gone.”
Despite everything, Lesia’s classes have become a vital refuge for children living under siege. They offer more than just distraction—they offer a fleeting sense of normalcy and the rare chance to experience childhood. For many students, who’ve been stuck in online learning for months or even years, the classes are the only place they can interact with their peers face-to-face. Through games, art, and community-building activities, the children begin to regain what war has taken.
Young children are encouraged to express their emotions through drawing, painting, and play. They learn mindfulness and breathing techniques to help them stay calm during attacks. Teenagers, on the other hand, are challenged to develop community projects—like one girl who wants to start a drama club, or a boy dreaming of a manga comic library. They learn how to write proposals, plan budgets, and are mentored along the way. These exercises are not just educational—they are acts of resistance, allowing children to dream beyond war.
"The constant sirens have turned a decent nights’ sleep – critical for children’s health and development – into a distant memory."
- Lesia, an aid worker at a partner organization in Sumy, Ukraine
But the war’s toll on childhood is unmistakable. Sirens have made restful sleep a rarity. Some children are separated from their fathers, now serving in the military. One girl stayed withdrawn for weeks before finally saying, “I want to see dad.”
Social isolation has also taken its toll. Lesia remembers one boy who had only interacted with others online for over a year. He struggled to speak or engage at first, but over time, he began to open up.
In moments both heartbreaking and heartwarming, the resilience of these children shines through. Lesia recalls a day when two fourth-grade boys brought a ukulele to class. They asked to perform a song. As they played, their classmates turned off the lights and lit up their phone flashlights, transforming the shelter-turned-classroom into a concert hall. “For five minutes,” she says, “they just enjoyed life.”
It’s moments like these that reaffirm Lesia’s decision to stay. She knows the risks. But she also knows that if everyone left, there would be no Sumy—no community left to support, no one left to protect.
“In Ukraine, moving is like playing the lottery,” she says. “Safety is not guaranteed anywhere.”
And so, she stays. For the children. For their hope. For the belief that even in the darkest times, joy and imagination are still worth fighting for.
*Name changed for protection.
Partner Spotlight: The League of Modern Women
Since the start of the war in Ukraine three years ago, Save the Children has worked closely with local communities and partners to deliver urgent relief and support long-term recovery.
Together, we’ve reached 3.8 million people across Ukraine — including more than 1.5 million children. Our dedicated team of 350 staff, in partnership with 25 local organizations, continues to respond with care and urgency. In 2024, we expanded our efforts by opening a new office in the Sumy region, near the northeastern border, to reach even more families in need.
Local partnerships are at the heart of Save the Children’s humanitarian work. Many of our partners are from the communities most affected by the conflict, offering critical insights and a deep connection to the people we serve.
One such partner, The League of Modern Women, is a women’s rights organization based in Sumy. In 2024, they created safe spaces for children, offered emotional support, and delivered life skills training to help young people heal and thrive. Through this partnership, we’re able to extend our reach and deepen our impact in Ukraine’s frontline communities.