To be an IDP (internally displaced person) is to lose a part of yourself along with your home, leaving it in the past, which is heartbreaking to recall. It is about carrying an emptiness in your heart that no new place can fulfil, because your only real home is where you will never set foot again.

War, fears, trials, illness and death - all these describe today's realities. Zaporizhzhia is one of the nearest cities to the frontline, and every evening our children listen to the echoes from the battlefield and rocket fire. They know how the Shaheds fly, moreover, they understand when a missile is flying and when it is shot down. One can't predict how this damn war will turn out for everyone in the future. But despite everything, we live, we work, we rejoice! We are strong!