Vatican News / Svitlana Duchowycz, Artur Hanula
Being a mother in times of war
Oksana is a teacher and lives in Kyiv with her eight-year-old daughter. “I have never lived through a war before, so I am still learning how to do it,” she tells Vatican News when asked about the experience of being mother in such a difficult reality.
The Ukrainian woman admits that the exhaustion is immense: “I have to control everything, organize everything, expect everything. And in Kyiv, especially since the end of August, it feels like there is a continuous alert: for a few hours, and sometimes just for a few minutes, the alert is cancelled, and then everything starts all over again.”
Education under the bombs
The challenges of running a school during wartime are particularly severe. In Oksana’s private school, the shelter is located in the ground-floor rooms of a residential complex, but the space is not large enough for each class to have its own room. During air raid alerts, children from different classes must therefore hold lessons in the same space. On top of that, there is the constant movement between classrooms and the shelter.
After a night of continuous bombardments, many children arrive at school tired and irritable, and some still struggle with fear and lack of sleep.
The situation is also difficult for parents. Not everyone can stay home with their children during alerts: some must continue working, and when conditions permit, they prefer to bring their children to school, where a teacher is almost always waiting for them.
Children and war
Every child reacts to war in their own way. Oksana shares an event that deeply moved her. During one of the alerts, while her daughter Nastia was playing with two friends, one of the girls started screaming in panic: “Mom, alert! Mom, let’s run!”
Her mother picked her up and they took shelter under the building’s entrance. Oksana later learned that this anxiety reaction had been recurring for some time. To try to calm her down, someone turned on music while explosions could still be heard all around.
“My daughter reacts to all this quite calmly,” Oksana adds, “perhaps she is just observing how I react and adopting my mood. I try not to panic. Of course, sometimes I am scared, but I try to tell her: ‘There now, calm down, everything will be fine.'” “The nervous system really can’t take it anymore,” Oksana admits.
“Why destroy an entire nation?”
The Ukrainian teacher hopes the war will end soon. She says she perceives deep exhaustion around her—both physical and mental. At the same time, she says she does not see anyone among the people she knows who is ready to give up what they consider most important. Daily news of casualties, including among children, intensifies anger and incomprehension toward the aggressor.
“Just yesterday I read a report about a child who was killed right here in the Kyiv region. It is hard to understand why all this has to happen. Why kill us here? Why destroy an entire nation?” Oksana says.
The teacher hears questions about whether she would like to leave. “Why should I leave? This is my city, the place where I was born, where I spent my childhood, and where I work. I have everything here: my parents’ house, my roots, everything that is close and familiar to me,” she emphasizes.
