“We warn you twice, and the third time, we’ll take the children from the family,” was the demand Tamila Yaroshenko heard from the occupying authorities when she appeared at the police station upon a summons. The occupiers accused the parents of depriving their children of their right to education and financial support, referring to the “maternity capital” that the aggressor country pays for each child.

However, Tamila and Andriy did not want those rubles, nor did they want their children subjected to hostile ideology and taught a distorted version of history. So, for the two years they lived under occupation, they refused to issue russian documents for their children or send them to russian schools.

From the first day of the full-scale invasion, the family lived in constant fear in their home. Every night, tank patrols rolled through the streets of their village, and drones flew overhead. Armed russians could burst into their home at any moment, conduct a search, and—worst of all—take the children.

The Yaroshenko children each endured this horror in their way. Sixteen-year-old Taras often faced humiliating “encounters” with russian soldiers. He remembers with dread an instance when he refused to shake a russian soldier’s outstretched hand. He will never forget the look of hatred in the soldier’s eyes. Fourteen-year-old Yurko despised the russians for taking away his ability to play soccer with friends and speak Ukrainian freely. Instead, he had to stay home, watching through the window as enemy tanks rolled by. Sixteen-year-old Alisa feared that her father and brother would be taken to the front, as she had often heard of russians handing out draft notices to 16-year-old boys.

Tamila was terrified that they might all be evicted from their home. After being called in for a “talk” in August and then summoned to the police station, she finally decided to rescue her children. In the occupation, people fear reading Ukrainian news, as their phones are constantly checked. As a result, few believe it is even possible to leave safely. However, the family managed to reach out to Save Ukraine and request help.

The path to freedom was risky. At the border they were asked countless questions based on inexplicable suspicions, making Tamila fear she would lose control. Fortunately, it is all behind them now. The family successfully crossed the border and is now completely safe. All the children were thrilled to see the Ukrainian flag. Tamila cannot describe that incredible feeling of freedom you have after captivity.

But occupation leaves invisible wounds. Share this video to help more people learn about what Ukrainians endure in occupied territories.