For 27-year-old Ruslana, the moment of decision came suddenly. When a drone hit the apartment two floors below, she realized: staying in Kramatorsk with her two-year-old son, Alexey, was no longer possible. Sitting in an evacuation bus and wiping away tears, the single mother realizes the weight of her choice — to leave her hometown and head into the unknown. But she is sure that this is the only right decision for the sake of her child's safety.
Life in a besieged city
This summer, Kramatorsk increasingly resembles the set of a post-apocalyptic film. Along the central streets, utility workers are installing concrete triangles — so-called "dragon's teeth" wrapped in coils of barbed wire. Passages in these barriers are left only for pedestrians heading to bus stops. Nets are stretched over the roads, intended to protect people and vehicles from drone attacks.
The front line is gradually approaching, and large cities in the Donetsk region are increasingly coming under attack. Shooting has intensified: now shelling occurs both day and night. Residents live in constant tension: a trip to the store turns into a lottery where one cannot be sure of their own safety.
Despite the threats, the city remains populated. According to local authorities, more than 50,000 people currently live in Kramatorsk, including almost four thousand children. However, these figures are decreasing daily. Evacuation buses are taking hundreds of people who have decided not to wait until the war comes directly to their doorstep.
"I am an orphan myself"
Ruslana did not wait for the announcement of mandatory evacuation in her area. "Back in spring, I felt how the situation was getting worse," she says. For the last two months, the woman has been sleeping only four to five hours a day, exhausted by night shelling and fear for her son's life.
"You go to the store and you don't know if it's safe. I am an orphan myself; I know what it's like to grow up without a mother. And I simply don't want my son to experience that, such horror," says Ruslana, hugging her two-year-old Alexey.
The blue-eyed toddler plays with his favorite teddy bear and smiles. For now, he does not realize that a long road and parting with his familiar world await him. For Ruslana, selling her old broken car for parts was the final step before departure. She packed her things, took her son in her arms, and went to the evacuation point.
A journey into the unknown
From Kramatorsk, humanitarian organizations and volunteers are evacuating people for free to safer regions. Also, an evacuation train departs daily from Lozova to Lviv. Ruslana registers for a flight with the "Proliska" humanitarian mission.
"I don't know where we are going. We have no relatives or friends who could take us in. I hope the volunteers will help us find a place where it will be quiet and safe," the woman admits.
The bus fills with families with children, pensioners, and carriers with cats. A few minutes after Ruslana and Alexey leave their hometown, Kramatorsk comes under shelling again by guided aerial bombs and artillery. Black smoke rises over the city.
The evacuation transport leaves the frontline region through long tunnels of anti-drone nets, bypassing the skeletons of cars on the roadside. Little Alexey dozes in his mother's arms, while the woman dreams of a better future.
Hope for tomorrow
At the transit center in Lozova, they are temporarily accommodated in a common room for families with children. Here, Ruslana receives humanitarian kits and processes financial assistance from UNICEF. In 2026, the organization continues to provide multi-purpose financial support to families evacuated from frontline areas.
This assistance helps cover the most urgent needs after relocation: housing rent, food, medicine, and other basic expenses while families settle in a safer place.
"I am currently on maternity leave, and I am a single mother. I have no savings or stable income, so this assistance is very important for me. It will allow me to rent housing for my son and me for the first while, until I find a job and can enroll Alexey in kindergarten," says Ruslana.
While the woman processes documents, Alexey jumps excitedly on the bed. His mother, who worked as a cook-confectioner before her son's birth, dreams of a simple and happy future: "I would very much like to rent a house in a village so I could plant vegetables and greens. And so that Alexey could play outside, find friends, and grow up in safety".
