“Why are you hesitating? Look — your peers have already registered for military service…”
These are the words seventeen-year-old Hlib heard in his native Donetsk region from representatives of the occupation authorities. He understood that if he came of age there, russia would turn him into a soldier and send him to fight against his own country.

This realization became decisive in his desire to leave the occupied territories. Hlib admits that he can hardly even remember what life without occupation feels like. He was seven when russia annexed Donbas and when he started school. Instead of Ukrainian history, so-called “civic education” lessons were introduced, where he was told that the people of Donbas were a separate country, with their own “nation,” supposedly “saved” by russian “liberators” from the “Ukrainian junta.”

Even as a child, Hlib felt it was a lie. But speaking the truth was too dangerous.

“It felt like a noose of unfreedom, tightening around your neck with each passing year,” he recalls. “At first, in Donetsk, there were still traces of normal life: the Ukrainian language wasn’t banned immediately, but it was gradually reduced in schools, turned into something secondary and unnecessary. Eventually, it disappeared completely — along with the feeling that you even have the right to speak your mind.”

Hlib remembers how, when he was in second grade, they were taken to the school gym. russian soldiers were standing there, with weapons laid out — rifles, grenades. Children were encouraged to examine them and take photos. That was when many of his classmates began to see war as something triumphant, even glorious.

But Hlib clearly remembers the day when war first broke into his life — and there was nothing triumphant about it.

It happened near a pond not far from Shcherbakov Park. He was out for a walk when he heard a massive explosion — about 300 meters away. He jumped into a pit, and that saved his life. A russian shell landed right next to him.

That was the moment Hlib realized — this was the limit.

He began searching for a way out. Eventually, this search led him to Save Ukraine. Our volunteers quickly got in touch with him and helped Hlib and his grandmother escape from Donetsk.

Now Hlib is safe in our rehabilitation center. He is recovering from what he has been through and slowly starting to build a new life in Kyiv — finding new dreams. He wants to study and apply to university.

He says that for him, Ukraine means the freedom to speak without fear and to live without lies.

Meanwhile, Save Ukraine volunteers continue every day to help rescue other children who are still living under occupation.

Support Save Ukraine`s life-saving rescue missions – donate here!