Blackouts and Bombardment Reshape Life Across Ukraine
Ukraine’s Children Grow Up in Basements and Shelters
Survival, Not School, Defines Childhood in Ukraine
Kherson/Geneva: As Ukraine approaches the fourth anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion, the war has silently remade the rhythm of daily life. Across the country, families live under the constant threat of bombardment, struggling to keep warm during freezing winters and coping with repeated blackouts that disrupt everything from cooking to medical care. For children in frontline cities like Kherson, the ordinary routines of school, play, and sleep have largely vanished, replaced by the demands of survival in basements and improvised shelters.
Before February 2022, Kherson was home to roughly 60,000 children. Today, fewer than 5,000 remain. Homes, schools, hospitals, and energy networks have been repeatedly struck, leaving families with little refuge. Streets that were once busy with life now lie empty, punctuated only by the sounds of distant artillery and the occasional warning siren. “I have been constantly hearing artillery shelling,” said Munir Mammadzade, UNICEF’s representative in Ukraine, describing a recent night of massive, coordinated attacks on civilian and energy infrastructure. The city’s children’s hospital was hit eight times in a single morning, he added, underscoring the constant risk that even medical facilities face.
In this environment, basements have become classrooms, playgrounds, and bedrooms. Children shuffle between lessons and therapy sessions, often under the watch of psychologists and humanitarian workers. At one UNICEF-run child protection hub in Kherson, children play in a small room adjacent to a counselling space, a rare moment of normalcy amid chaos. “It is something precious to witness in places like Kherson because you hardly see people outside,” Mammadzade said, highlighting the unusual pockets of community life that persist beneath the surface. Families are living in a perpetual state of alert, their daily routines dominated by the need to survive, shield their children, and preserve the few safe spaces left.
The impact of war extends far beyond Kherson. Cities and towns across western Ukraine and the capital, Kyiv, also face attacks on civilian infrastructure, leaving communities exposed to blackouts and isolation. Children everywhere are growing up with sirens, repeated sheltering, and severely restricted social interaction. Mental and physical health consequences are becoming widespread, as even brief periods outside safety are fraught with danger.
Energy has emerged as a new frontline. Arthur Erken, Regional Director for Europe at the International Organization for Migration, said, “Power cuts now structure daily life when families cook, when children study, when hospitals schedule procedures.” With temperatures plummeting to minus 20 degrees Celsius, families struggle to keep homes heated, repair damaged living spaces, or maintain electricity-dependent devices for schooling and medical care. Displaced people and recent returnees bear the brunt of these shortages, forced to navigate fragile shelters, broken infrastructure, and relentless cold.
Ukraine now faces Europe’s largest displacement crisis in decades. Of the 9.6 million people who have fled their homes, 3.7 million remain internally displaced. In one out of every three displaced households, someone lives with a disability, while more than half include someone managing a chronic illness. Every decision—from accessing food and medical care to finding warmth—is shaped by these vulnerabilities. Over the past year alone, more than 450,000 people were displaced again, many for the second or third time.
Even those who have returned home face uncertainty. The UN warns that approximately 325,000 returnees could be displaced once more in the coming months, with more than a third considering leaving Ukraine altogether. “Intentions to leave reflect the cumulative strain of insecurity, damaged housing, and limited access to electricity and heating,” Erken said. “After four years of war, resilience alone cannot sustain families through yet another winter of blackouts and freezing temperatures.”
For the children who remain, daily life is measured in minutes and meters. Play is confined to narrow spaces in dimly lit basements. Lessons are interrupted by alarms. Meals are prepared under candlelight when electricity fails. Parents weigh every step against the risk of shelling, shelter collapse, or long-term health consequences. The war has not only destroyed buildings and infrastructure—it has quietly eroded the routines, rituals, and security that define childhood.
Four years into the conflict, childhood in many parts of Ukraine has been driven underground, and displacement has become a recurring reality for millions. Survival has replaced normalcy. Basements have become schools and playgrounds; neighbourhoods once bustling with life now lie empty, and even the act of leaving home carries profound risk. With winter temperatures biting and power supplies unreliable, the basic necessities of life—safe housing, heating, electricity, and access to essential services—have become matters of survival, dignity, and human decency.
The scale and persistence of the crisis make one thing clear: the war in Ukraine is no longer a temporary disruption but a long-term reshaping of society, childhood, and daily life, with the most vulnerable bearing the heaviest burden.
– global bihari bureau
