A Father's Fear: Will My Son Inherit This War? (Ukraine)

Admin

3 min read

Post on Feb 25, 2025

4.4

Share

A Father's Fear: Will My Son Inherit This War? (Ukraine)

KYIV, Ukraine – The rhythmic thud of artillery fire is a lullaby to 40-year-old Oleksiy. It’s the soundtrack to his son, 10-year-old Taras’s, life. The constant threat of war isn't an abstract concept in their Kyiv apartment; it’s the reality shaping every aspect of their existence. Oleksiy, a software engineer before the 2022 Russian invasion, now spends his days working remotely, his nights glued to news reports, his heart perpetually clenched with a fear that gnaws at his soul: will his son inherit this conflict?

This fear is shared by millions of Ukrainian fathers. The war, now well into its second year, has profoundly impacted the nation's psyche, leaving a legacy of trauma that extends beyond the physical battlefield. While the front lines have shifted, the psychological scars inflicted upon a generation are becoming increasingly apparent. Children witness firsthand the brutality of conflict, whether through direct exposure to shelling, the constant anxiety of air raid sirens, or the omnipresent fear of losing loved ones serving at the front. The Ukrainian government estimates that over [5 million] children have been directly affected by the war, many suffering from PTSD, anxiety, and depression. The long-term effects on their mental health remain largely unknown, but early indicators are deeply troubling.

Taras, like many Ukrainian children, is exhibiting signs of trauma. He often wakes up screaming from nightmares, his small body trembling. He clutches his father tightly, whispering about explosions and soldiers. He's become withdrawn, his bright, curious eyes now shadowed with a precocious weariness. His school, once a sanctuary of learning and play, is now a place of drills and hushed whispers of fear. The once carefree sound of children’s laughter has been replaced by the unnerving silence of a nation holding its breath.

Oleksiy is acutely aware of the impact the war is having on Taras's development. He tries to shield his son from the harsher realities, but the constant news coverage, the ever-present air raid sirens, and the conversations overheard amongst worried neighbors make this task near impossible. He grapples with the ethical dilemma of protecting his son's innocence while also preparing him for a world shaped by violence and uncertainty. "How do I explain this to him? How do I teach him to be brave without breaking his heart?" Oleksiy asks, his voice heavy with despair.

The Ukrainian government, along with numerous international NGOs, is working to provide psychological support to children affected by the war. Trauma centers and therapy programs are springing up across the country, but resources are strained, and the scale of the need is overwhelming. [UNICEF] and [WHO], among others, are providing crucial aid, including funding for mental health services, teacher training on trauma-informed care, and psychosocial support programs for children. However, the long-term commitment and sustained funding required to address the deep-seated psychological wounds of this war remain a significant challenge.

Oleksiy's fear is not just for his son’s immediate well-being; it’s a fear for the future. He wonders whether Taras will grow up in a country forever scarred by conflict, a nation where the sounds of war are an inescapable part of daily life. Will his son, a generation raised amidst bombs and bloodshed, inherit not just a damaged country, but also a damaged soul? The answer, unfortunately, remains uncertain, a chilling testament to the far-reaching consequences of this protracted war. The fate of Taras, and millions of children like him, hangs precariously in the balance, a stark reminder of the devastating and enduring legacy of conflict.