Volodymyr and his wife fled their home in Mariupol less than a month after Russian forces invaded Ukraine. For weeks, the couple endured relentless shelling. Eventually, they lost power and access to water, forcing them to wait in hours-long lines at the town’s well to fill a mere couple of canisters. Food became scarce as they relied on reserves and a makeshift outdoor stove for daily meals.

Volodymyr recalls the many nights he, his wife, and other neighbors spent in a basement-turned-bomb shelter with no electricity, waiting anxiously for a moment of reprieve.

“All of us in the dark settled [in] our dwelling the best we could, made improvised beds where it was possible. … For a long time, these 20 days, every time a plane flew by, we shuddered not knowing whether bomb would hit us or not.”

Despite the persistent danger and uncertainty, the couple, like many other Ukrainians, struggled to part ways with the place they had called home for decades. “You know your native land always calls to you,” Volodymyr reflected. “Because Mariupol is our youth. Our children, our grandchildren grew up over there.”

The decision to leave became clear after a bomb exploded nearby, damaging Volodymyr’s car and leaving him with a concussion and partial hearing loss in one ear. They packed their belongings into the car and joined a long queue of people desperate to escape the danger as military tanks drove opposite them into the city. The couple drove for days, stopping for just one night at a population center in Zaporizhzhia.