{"id":10678,"date":"2026-03-06T05:55:54","date_gmt":"2026-03-05T16:55:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/?p=10678"},"modified":"2026-03-05T13:49:49","modified_gmt":"2026-03-05T00:49:49","slug":"choosing-life-on-ukraines-front-lines","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/?p=10678","title":{"rendered":"Choosing life on Ukraine\u2019s front lines"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

For young people in eastern Kharkiv, staying is an act of resistance<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Liza Andreeva fled her eastern hometown of Kharkiv in March 2022, the evacuation train she took with her mother and 3-year-old brother was so full, people sat and slept in the aisles. The refugees leaned against the walls, their luggage, and each other. Those with children or pets did their best to keep them quiet, to avoid disturbing fellow passengers already stressed to the breaking point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andereeva spent the next 18 months as a displaced person in Poland, then Germany. After that, she decided to come home to study in Kharkiv\u2014even as the war continued nearby and even though Kharkiv lies just 20 miles from Ukraine\u2019s border with Russia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe can\u2019t leave [behind] everything that we have in Kharkiv,\u201d Andreeva, now 19, told me as we sat in a downtown Kharkiv coffeeshop in April with her school friend Zheniya Komissarova. For Andreeva, who is majoring in foreign languages, the city is \u201cnative\u201d and \u201cfamiliar.\u201d She cited \u201chouses, families, our pets\u201d as reasons enough to keep living here. Komissarova, also 19, nodded her agreement as her friend talked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I asked Andreeva if she would consider leaving Kharkiv again, she shook her head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI want to stay, really,\u201d she said, adding that her mother made the decision to leave in 2022, not her. Now enrolled at one of Kharkiv\u2019s three dozen universities, Andreeva has asserted her adulthood as much through her wish to live and study here as through the self-expression of her green eyes, all-black outfit, purple fingernails, and bright blue hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As expressive as her friend, Komissarova has found her own creative ways to handle her war anxiety. The young medical student spends her spare time redecorating old rocket-propelled grenade launchers and selling the weapons-turned-artwork online. It\u2019s her way of turning something violent into an instrument of peace, and earning a little money, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In their way, both young women represent a generation of Ukrainians who are choosing to live in Kharkiv and other, especially dangerous parts of their country\u2014no matter how long the war continues.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

According to data from the United Nations, about 10.6 million Ukrainians have\u00a0taken refuge<\/a>\u00a0either outside the country (6.9 million) or in other places within Ukraine (3.7 million), a category called internally displaced persons (IDPs). Another 570,000\u00a0count\u00a0as \u201creturned IDPs,\u201d or those who moved somewhere else inside Ukraine and later came back to their prewar homes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another half-million are labeled \u201cothers of concern,\u201d locals who have stayed put in high-risk areas. These include Ukrainians close to either side of the front lines: those in Ukraine and those living under Russian occupation, according to the UN.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In short, Ukrainians who returned home, or never left, make up a slim minority. But young people like Andreeva are among them. They have chosen to take their stand, living their lives in the places they call home. They would rather risk death in Ukraine than find sure survival elsewhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Their resolve remains, even as peace efforts falter. On May 15 last year, Russian President Vladimir Putin\u00a0declined to attend\u00a0a top-level negotiation in Istanbul that Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and U.S. President Donald Trump both supported publicly\u2014and\u00a0said\u00a0they would\u00a0attend themselves, if Putin did, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andreeva and other Kharkiv residents I talked to shrug off the day-to-day hopes, and disappointments, of diplomacy happening in foreign cities. They have enough to worry about at home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere is no guarantee [that] living in Kharkiv will be safe in another one, two, three years,\u201d Andreeva said. \u201cBut it doesn\u2019t stop us. We\u2019re still here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mark Agarkov seems to personify the word overachiever<\/em>. At 25, he is a Ph.D. candidate in sociology, one of the pastors at Kharkiv Presbyterian Church, and president of the church\u2019s wartime humanitarian foundation. His glasses, messy mop of brown hair, and slight build underscore his A-student aspect. A married man, he became a father to twin boys last year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In other words, he\u2019s never had more to lose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Being a new dad is \u201cmuch more scary\u201d than his two years of life in wartime before having children, he admitted. His fear has only grown in recent months, amid Russia\u2019s\u00a0increased air attacks\u00a0on Ukraine. In March, several strikes hit the Agarkovs\u2019 neighborhood, some missiles landing just 500 feet from their house, he told me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yet Agarkov\u2019s faith led him to keep his family in Kharkiv, where they can continue to live together, despite the risks. Under the country\u2019s martial law, men aged 18-60 are forbidden to leave the country, should they be needed to fight or serve the war effort. Some Ukrainian families opted to send the mother and children abroad, away from danger. But for Agarkov, voluntary separation was never a serious choice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe understand that we\u2019re responsible for the children, for ourselves, but we also share the idea that children have to be with their parents, and families have to be united, and to be together,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s important for family health, and healthy relationships, to stay together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Separations between fathers and families, combined with financial strain and the daily risk of death in Ukraine, have created a perfect storm in otherwise stable homes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For some households, the\u00a0pressures of war\u00a0and distance have\u00a0broken\u00a0their marriages and families altogether. According to\u00a0numbers\u00a0compiled by Data Pandas, a public policy statistics organization, Ukraine ranked ninth in the world for divorce rates last year, just ahead of the United States. Former Soviet republics stand out among high-divorce countries: Belarus, Kazakhstan, Moldova, and Russia also figure in the Top 10 of highest divorce rates globally, the data showed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Agarkov knows these realities as well as anyone. In spite or perhaps because of those pressures, Agarkov makes his home in Kharkiv\u2014and brings a sense of Christian mission to making his stand in a dangerous place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe short answer [for staying] is, because there is a great need here,\u201d he said. Agarkov added that the Ukrainians now living in Kharkiv include locals as well as displaced peoples from across Ukraine\u2019s east and south, parts of which are now under Russian occupation. Agarkov emphasized that hope, or a lack of it, can make all the difference in whether people leave, or decide to keep hanging on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy mission, the mission of my family, why we are staying here, is to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ\u2014and to give people hope through this gospel,\u201d Agarkov said. \u201cThis is the scariest moment [for Ukrainians], when people lose hope.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I walked around Kharkiv during two days in April, a seeming tranquility jarred with my awareness of the constant threat that lay over the city. Spring flowers bloomed under a cool, cloudless afternoon sky. Teenagers, just out of classes, hung around in the central Shevchenko Park, chatting in circles or practicing dance moves to post on TikTok. But air raid sirens rang out every hour or so. Many of the downtown buildings showed shattered facades and burned-out interiors, thanks to Russian rockets and other projectiles fired in three-plus years of war.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unlike Ukraine\u2019s capital, Kyiv, Kharkiv lacks a comprehensive anti-missile defense system. Across the city, including in places like pedestrian-filled Shevchenko Park, starburst patterns pocked the pavement, showing where Russian shells have fallen, without warning and sometimes in broad daylight. Despite talks of peace, Russian attacks on Kharkiv and other Ukrainian cities\u00a0continued<\/a>\u00a0in May,\u00a0killing and wounding civilians.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arsen Kulikov assured me that the coffeeshop where we chose to meet would be safe enough, given its basement location. Tall, physically fit, with a serious demeanor, the 29-year-old might make an ideal soldier in the Ukrainian army. Yet Kulikov, who works as a software developer, has a military service exemption. He is the sole caretaker for his mother, who suffers from dementia and occasional epileptic seizures.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kulikov spent the first year of the war near Cherkasy, in central Ukraine, before returning to his hometown. That year was terrible for him, he said, as he worked remotely and suffered from the isolation of displacement. He grappled with vices he didn\u2019t know he had. He binged on unhealthy foods, gaining more than 30 pounds. He began drinking too much\u2014a habit he sometimes continues to indulge even now, he admitted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once the war reached a steady state, Kulikov chose to move with his mother back to Kharkiv. Living at home, and with access to her Kharkiv doctors, was less disruptive for her, Kulikov explained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the drive back home, he burst into tears when he saw the highway sign announcing \u201cKHARKIV\u201d at the city limits. \u201cIt was so emotional,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But a year of war had changed his old home. \u201cThe city was so empty,\u201d he remembered, as if the feeling of home itself had changed. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t the city I remembered.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But that slowly changed as Kulikov\u2019s friends and other residents returned, making it feel more like it did in peacetime.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For his own sake, Kulikov has taken steps to manage the long-burning stress of nearby conflict, and the heavy, often depressing duty of caring for a senior parent. He is taking lessons to learn rock \u2019n\u2019 roll drums as well as vocals. Musical expression, in a style known for loud, testosterone-charged riffs and rhythms, does a lot to relieve his anxiety, he told me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the future, Kulikov expressed a mix of hope for a fair peace and sadness for his mother\u2019s inevitable passing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI hope that this war ends with justice\u2014for us, and justice for them,\u201d he said, meaning Russia. But planning ahead feels all but impossible. \u201cNow, I can\u2019t even think about one week later.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kulikov\u2019s mother\u2019s epilepsy is worsening. Her most recent attack came in March. Each episode leaves lasting damage to her health and memory, he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even after she\u2019s gone, he doesn\u2019t plan to leave Kharkiv.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy friends, all of the people around me, are really important for me,\u201d he said. \u201cI don\u2019t want to miss them, somehow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For young people in Kharkiv as for so many across Ukraine, sanity comes in preparing for the future, no matter how unclear the outlook appears now. Mark Agarkov, like the scores of Kharkiv\u2019s other university students, pursues his Ph.D. as he cares for his church and family.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He approaches the days ahead with a simple, clear attitude of hope in things unseen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf Christians don\u2019t stay, who will stay?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And for Komissarova and Andreeva, their highest priority is to simply keep going\u2014to live as if fighting wasn\u2019t taking place 20 miles away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf one person starts to panic, everyone near them starts to panic,\u201d Komissarova explained. Russia took their youth, she said, but she refuses to let the war claim the days to come.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For young people in eastern Kharkiv, staying is an act of resistance When Liza Andreeva fled her eastern hometown of Kharkiv in March 2022, the evacuation train she took with her mother and 3-year-old brother was so full, people sat and slept in the aisles. The refugees leaned against the walls, their luggage, and each<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10680,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[43],"tags":[109,815,465],"coauthors":[812],"class_list":{"0":"post-10678","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-world-2","8":"tag-persecution","9":"tag-teenagers","10":"tag-ukraine"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10678","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10678"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10678\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10681,"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10678\/revisions\/10681"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10680"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10678"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10678"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10678"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cvnznews.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcoauthors&post=10678"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}