According to the NGO Centre of Civil Education “Almenda”, there are currently more than 615,000 school-age children in the temporarily occupied territories. They live in difficult and dangerous conditions. The occupying authorities draft Ukrainian boys to the Russian army, send teenagers to “military-patriotic camps” for “re-education”, and send children for adoption to Russian families.
Human rights activists report that teenagers and children are captured, intimidated, tortured, and killed in the occupied territories.
“It took time to get used to freedom and to the fact that I was already in safety”
Evelin Biankpin Akassi, 18 years old, Donetsk – Kyiv
Evelin is 18 years old. She was born and grew up in Donetsk. She was eight when the city was occupied. A year ago, Evelin left Donetsk. She now studies at the Tavriiskyi National University named after Vernadsky, which moved from the occupied Crimea to Kyiv in 2015. “As an internally relocated person, I was looking for an internally relocated university,” the girl smiles. She agreed to tell her story because she believes that it will help other teenagers in the occupation to dare to go to the Ukraine-controlled territories. “When I was leaving Donetsk, I did not know anything: how to get a Ukrainian passport, how to enter the university, where I will live, what awaits me in general. Now I can tell others: everything will be fine here.”
Evelin speaks good Ukrainian, although her native languages are Russian and French (the girl’s father is from the Republic of Côte d’Ivoire). She says she has already adapted in Kyiv and explains that the most difficult thing was to get used to freedom, to the fact that you can write, say, and read what you want. She adds that now she is where she should be.
Evelin’s story:
— In 2014, when it all started, I was a child. I understood little then and remember little about that time. I remember how my favorite “Bee” jelly candies disappeared from sale, and cartoons in Ukrainian disappeared from TV. It upset me. My father did not live with us then, and my mother tried to protect me from the war, so she did not tell me anything. She only said that it would not last long. However, the understanding quickly came that life would no longer be the same as it had been.
Our family always paid attention to education. We had a big library at home. During the occupation, I wanted to learn more about the history of Ukraine and learn the Ukrainian language. However, in 2016, I could no longer find the needed books in Donetsk. Mostly, it is about classic literature books. They could not be borrowed in libraries and were not sold in bookstores. I was looking for [such books] among the acquaintances. That was how I found “Kobzar” by Shevchenko, books by Ivan Franko, Lesya Ukrainka.
When it all started, I was in the third grade. Many children left then. I have not seen many of my classmates since then, I think something happened to them — our area was under heavy fire at that time. Some of those who had left later returned. People did not understand what to do. We, children, did not understand even more. There was a lot of aggression at school. A boy from the Kyiv district of Donetsk was transferred to our class because it was safer there. My classmates beat him, and he ended up in the intensive care unit. Why? Because the children heard from Russian propagandists that there was the Maidan in Kyiv, that there were Nazis, that Kyiv was something bad. Although the boy came from a neighboring district [of Donetsk], it was called the Kyiv district! This was absurd! However, it was so.
The school immediately switched to the Russian language, although until 2020 we still had a Ukrainian language lesson once a fortnight; the teacher conducted it in Russian. The children treated her [the teacher] very badly. I remember in the 9th grade, it was the year 2020, a classmate said that he would not need Ukrainian in his life, started turning over desks, shouting, others joined him. The teacher had a nervous breakdown. Before 2014, it was a Ukrainian-language school and everything was fine. Maybe it was the propaganda that had such an effect on us.
When I was preparing for exams in the history of Russia, I realized that some facts there contradicted each other. I looked for more information on the Internet and found something completely different from what we were told at school. It gradually became clear that the reality was different from what we were told.
“During the occupation, I wanted to learn more about the history of Ukraine and learn the Ukrainian language. However, in 2016, I could no longer find the needed books in Donetsk”. Illustration by Inga Levi
I did not want to stay in Donetsk; I thought I might go to Canada. However, when the full-scale invasion began, I realized that I wanted to live and study in Ukraine. It was not an easy choice. I graduated from school with honors, and I was promised a free-of-charge place at the Moscow State University. I knew that it would be easier for me. However, I refused because I did not really want it.
I came to my mother and said that I had pro-Ukrainian views and wanted to leave. My mother replied that she supported me. She said that if I could collect money for living and studying in Kyiv, she would let me go. I got a job in a beauty salon.
With the beginning of the full-scale invasion, Donetsk began to be cleared of locals, for example, there were programs to exchange an apartment in Donetsk for an apartment somewhere in Russia. Instead, many Russian officers and their families arrived. They had money; they spent money like water. Prices rose sharply, the locals began to live noticeably worse. There was a feeling that you were simply not needed in your native land.
I left via Russia, Belarus, Poland. All by myself. It was exhausting. I was afraid of the road. I was afraid that I would not succeed, that I would not realize my dream, that I would not find my place. That the goal I set for myself would be so unattainable that the risks I took would turn out to be unjustified.
When I came to Kyiv, I consciously switched to Ukrainian. It took time to get used to freedom and to the fact that I was already in safety. On the second day, I bought “Tale of Bygone Years” by Nestor the Chronicler. It was the first book in my library here.
I miss my mother and Donetsk. The thought that I may never return there hurts. Sometimes people from the occupation write to me and ask how I entered the Ukrainian university. Maybe someone will read about my experience and will go to Ukraine instead of Russia. It is very important for me to surround myself with conscious people who are not afraid to work for change.
According to human rights activists, starting from 2014, in the universities in the occupied territories of Donetsk and Luhansk regions, the Russian special services practiced summoning students to the rector for a “conversation” and checking social networks. Armed people were present in the office and there were threats. Illustration by Inga Levi
Original Source: https://suspilne.media/837509-security-guards-check-children-classes-stories-education-occupied-territories/
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