It was January 2023, when Viktoriya was setting up what could only loosely be called a “kitchen” in the open space just beyond the threshold of the small house on the outskirts of Dnipro. She was putting up a makeshift stove made from an old metal grate and bricks.
She was bundled up in layers of clothing, her breath obvious in the frigid air as she fed the makeshift stove with branches and whatever pieces of wood she could find.
Her gloved hands were moving quickly as she stirred a pot of water that was carefully balanced on the stove’s uneven surface. That winter, there was a bitter cold of -15 degrees Celsius that seemed to reach every bone.
The entire eastern region was facing massive electricity cuts. The power was disconnected for a minimum of 6 hours every day. Viktoriya’s family was forced to rely on canned goods and boiling water outside because even the stove was powered by electricity.
Meanwhile her mother was setting up a fire, Sofia, Viktoriya’s eldest daughter, 11, was seated at an oval, dimly lit table. The candle in front of her was flickering erratically, casting shadows on her face as she was trying to focus on her paperwork.
Sofia, like her mother, was wrapped up in layers of sweaters, her hands gripping a pencil with fingers stiffened by the bitter cold. She understood the value of keeping up with her studies despite the disruptions caused by the frequent power outages that had left them without heat or light for days.
“Last year, we did not have a generator,” recalls Viktoriya. “It was truly challenging. We wore around five layers of clothing, which didn’t help much,” she laments.
The rooms of the house were filled with icy air because the heater was running on electricity. “With temperatures outside as low as -15 degrees, the warmth inside would decrease dramatically in just a few hours,” she explains.
For the past two years, the family has lived in continual fear and unpredictability. “You always have your bag packed with five basics, two changes of clothing, your ID, money, and a few snacks,” shares the mother.
When they got a few kilometers away from the front lines, Viktoriya and her husband worried about how long they would be safe in Dnipro. They pondered on a daily basis how long it would take for the looming danger to make itself felt. “Fear and danger are constantly present. I pray that my children never see what they saw in Mariupol ever again,” she adds. “I recall those times as a nightmare.”
Between two years of war, loss and displacement, Viktoryia gave birth to her third child, now a seven-month-old baby daughter. Due to the lack of resources to afford renting, they have relocated to a temporary shelter in Dnipro. Her husband is disabled and has been wearing a hearing aid for quite some time due to major hearing impairments. “What we rely on today is humanitarian aid and my husband’s irregular income from temporary jobs that are unstable and difficult to get,” she explains.
According to a recent assessment, the working-age population residing in temporary shelters, which spans from 18 to 59 years old, has a lower employment rate than other groups. In comparison, 52% of the overall IDP population and 68% of the non-displaced were employed, whereas only 35% of the displaced staying in collective shelters were working, of which 23% had official employment and 12% had irregular or informal employment.
Compared to males, women in collective centers are less likely to be employed, and 28% of them are reportedly responsible for household chores.
The shelter population is less reliant on self-sustaining sources of income than other displaced and non-displaced groups, depending on social assistance. REACH estimations suggest that 43% of the general IDP population currently benefiting from this assistance might lose their eligibility.
With 7-month-old Polina cradled in her arms, Viktoryia calmly sways back and forth in the room warmly lit by afternoon sunlight. Around them, the shelter hums with muted activity. Nine people share the cramped room: an elderly couple in one corner and a family with toddlers in another.
Everyone has their own bed squeezed tightly into the small space, surrounded by their meager belongings – suitcases, duffel bags, electronics, and some clothing items.
Viktoryia whispers soothing words in Ukrainian, hoping to lull her blue-eyed baby daughter into sleep.
Shelters sometimes struggle to offer adequate living space, with 15% reporting rooms shared by numerous households without space dividers and 62% failing to provide 6m² per inhabitant.
“It was difficult to adapt as adults to these new hardships, let alone children,” she says. “Food, hygiene supplies, baby products, shelter equipment such as mattresses, beds, washing machines, and generators are in great demand,” she goes on.
World Visions and partners, supported by Aktion Deutschland Hilf (ADH), have provided 260 supply packs to the shelter where Viktoryia and her family are staying, as well as other collective sites. Each package has twenty beds with mattresses, blankets, bedding sheets, pillows, 40 towels, twenty rechargeable lamps, one charging station, one washing machine, one generator, and four adaptors.
Through the ADH-funded project, more than 54,000 individuals have received food and non-food items in Chernivtsi, Dnipropetrovsk, Donetsk, Lviv, Kharkiv, Kherson, Luhansk, Mykolaiv, and Zaporizhzhia oblasts.
“Most of the residents in our shelter rely on humanitarian help. The supplies have simplified our lives and provided a lifeline for us,” shares Viktoryia.
Despite the challenges, families in the collective center share their food between them, especially with the ones who can’t afford it. “If someone lives here and has no way to buy products for the week, we share meals. We make sure that no one remains hungry,” she continues.
As little Polina is about to fall asleep in her mother’s arms, Viktoriya shares one last thought: “I dream that my children will get to know one day a peaceful Ukraine, free of war, sorrow and grief. I dream of a Mariupol where my children will live and play freely without fear, in their home.”
Story and photos by Laurentia Jora, UCR Communications Manager