Tymofiy was in the 8th grade when the occupation began. He never concealed the fact that he was Ukrainian. And for that, his family paid a heavy price. 

Before the inspectors from the occupying “juvenile affairs service” even arrived, the principal of the school where Tymofiy studied had already informed on him for his pro-Ukrainian stance. 

“This inspector came to my school and started telling me I was a freeloader, that I was nobody here. And that the FSB would be talking to me later,” Tymofiy recalls. 

The boy’s parents were summoned to the school. They were told the same thing: they were nobody. And even their forced, partial loyalty to the authorities did not save the situation — it was enough that their son had not concealed his views. 

And so, following the visit to the school, the occupiers began coming to the family’s home, checking their phones. They always brought a collaborator interpreter with them — because the occupying authorities themselves did not understand Ukrainian, while Tymofiy and his family, even under pressure, refused to switch to Russian. 

The next step was forcing Tymofiy’s mother to apologize on camera. For communicating with her own son, who held “shameful views.” 

At Tymofiy’s school, every event was accompanied by songs about Russia. From the 9th grade, a “Yunarmiya” club appeared, to which Russian military personnel would come and teach children to assemble and disassemble assault rifles, preparing them for military service. That was when Tymofiy decided to leave for Ukraine — living like that had become impossible. 

“Everyone I know here has either switched sides or left,” says Tymofiy. The boy found Save Ukraine’s contact details online and reached out for help.