Anastasiia (name changed for safety reasons) studied at a Ukrainian school while under occupation. Leaving her home and family was very difficult, but the young woman saw her future only in the free Ukraine. And she braved this journey, despite the hardships and her young age.

On the first day of the full-scale invasion, Anastasiia's family woke up to explosions.

"We turned on the news, and they showed putin's address, then Zelenskyy's. They said that martial law was being introduced."

At the time, Anastasiia's family had no plans to leave.

"We just hoped it would end quickly. We believed that there would be no occupation. But everything happened very quickly.

I remember my mom made a delicious soup. We were sitting in the kitchen eating, and my mom was tidying up the flower garden. And we heard something very loud. It was a russian military vehicle.

And do you know what kind of music was playing? It was a Ukrainian song: "This is my land, this is my country. My family is here; my whole family is here." And they drove down our street with this song. Perhaps they picked up some kind of Ukrainian radio wave, because it was very strange to hear."

At first, there were no soldiers in their village, but eventually the russians settled there. Anastasiia's family was very cautious because it was unclear what could provoke the occupiers.

"For example, they would often walk into a store and say, 'Glory to Ukraine!' And we all had a habit of responding with 'Glory to the Heroes'. And the people who answered them in this way would disappear for several days, and it would later turn out that they had been kidnapped and tortured."

The occupiers often came to her home and searched it. Each time it was a great stress — in particular, after the last such visit, one of the relatives developed cardiac problems.

Anastasiia did not attend a russian school, but studied remotely at a Ukrainian one. However, she notes that it was difficult and dangerous.

"The occupiers could come at any time when I was in class. Once they came in when I was attending a Ukrainian history lesson — we were just talking about the Holodomor. I remember being asked how many famines there were. And I said that there were three. And the russians looked at me strangely and said, “Actually, three is the wrong answer.” That is, we have three, and the russians have their own version.

I managed to turn off the lesson and said that they were just sending me assignments."

In addition to threats and coercion to attend a russian school, the russians offered parents monthly payouts if they sent their children to a russian school. And some parents who had financial difficulties agreed.

"I remember the first of September, when I celebrated the First Bell Day on Zoom for the first time. It's not the same feeling as when you come to school, where there are balloons hanging and songs playing.

And then I saw the school bus. I thought that I could be going to my last first-day-of-school celebration now in the 11th grade, and I'm just sitting there watching a russian bus pick up our children and take them to a russian school. It was frustrating and very upsetting."

Parents and their children in the TOT are under enormous pressure from the occupation authorities.

"Some children initially studied at a Ukrainian school, but the occupation authorities put tremendous pressure on them, and they started studying at both Ukrainian and russian schools in parallel. But it is very difficult to study in two schools. Moreover, the physical presence and pressure of the russian school take their toll.

Almost every day matters. Every day we are losing our children. They are already getting used to the fact that every morning they have to sing the russian anthem, that the russian soldiers come to the school and teach children to shoot as well as other military skills.

russian propaganda is extremely powerful, and I don't know how to bring these children back when Ukraine liberates our lands."

Since school, Anastasiia has had a special love for the Ukrainian language, so she decided to connect her life with it and study Ukrainian philology. Anastasiia also applied to the university remotely while under occupation.

"Right when I was supposed to have an interview, the russian soldiers entered our village. They could have walked into our house at any time.

I was very scared to go through with the interview, but I decided to do it anyway.

I successfully passed the entrance exams and was enrolled."

Anastasiia understood that she had to leave her occupied home and was preparing for it while still at school. But it was very difficult for her parents to let their daughter go, so this process was difficult and took months.

"If I stayed at home, I would have had no future there. I would not have pursued my chosen career there. I would have been a nobody. Here I have many more opportunities for development and for life in general. That's why I decided to leave."

Anastasiia's friends, who had previously left the occupation with the support of Helping to Leave, told her that she could make an application for free evacuation with the project. The journey was not easy, both physically and mentally.

"Those four days of my journey from my occupied home to the free Ukraine taught me a lot. I have matured so much."

When she arrived in the new city, Anastasiia quickly found a place to live, a job, and is studying at a university remotely. But the young woman admits that living on her own is very difficult.

"I remember that in the first month, my coordinator, who helped me leave, was very surprised that I had found both an apartment and a job. But I don't have time for anything. Work, classes, housework... And it can be hard financially. There is financial aid, but it does not always arrive on time.

I have already adapted, entered a new rhythm of life. But it will take me a while to get used to the fact that my life is like this. When I work, I often don't think about what happened to me, because work takes away my thoughts about home, about the occupation. But I come home, and it's quiet, not a sound. No one from my family is there. And at that moment all these thoughts fill my head...".

According to Anastasiia, people in TOT are most often prevented from leaving by the lack of funds and the fear that they are not wanted.

"People don't believe that it is possible to leave the occupation; they do not know how to do it. They simply don't have the money because the drivers charge very high fees for their services. And there have often been situations when these drivers simply abandoned people in the middle of nowhere, and they did not know what to do.

However, the most common misconception is that people have nowhere to go, no one is waiting for them, and no one wants them. That it is better to stay at home, to endure somehow, to wait.

But time is working against them, and the pressure of russian propaganda is already doing its job.

I remember children going to their kindergarten and singing the russian national anthem out loud in the street as if it were a normal song. They had forgotten the values that were instilled in them until the enemies came and started forcing these children to sing their anthem every day."

Now Anastasiia's biggest dream is to see her family. But they are currently unable to leave due to family circumstances.

"In our family, it was somehow not customary to say that we love each other. When I was leaving and we were saying goodbye, I vividly remember hugging my dad. In fact, hugging my family at that time is the most pleasant memory I have of all that time. And now I really miss it."

Many children and their parents remain under occupation and face tremendous pressure and the influence of russian propaganda every day. russia is doing everything it can to make children in the temporarily occupied territories forget Ukraine who they are.

Every day matters, because every day we are losing Ukrainian children that are in the hands of russia. And every action we take is crucial in making a difference together and bringing Ukrainian children back home — physically and mentally.