Ukraine War | “We simply believed in Russia”

Darina with her cat Rusja. The 15-year-old lives with her parents in the emergency shelter. Photo: Bereg/CC Donetsk, Luhansk, Kharkiv – the license plates in front of the sanatorium in the Tula region reveal where the people come from. They are not here to relax. Schoolchildren swing in front of the two buildings that have served as emergency accommodation for refugees for two years. Adults sit on the benches, smoke and talk. They praise the living conditions. They only complain about the food in the canteen.

In May, the regional government decided that the refugees would have to leave the accommodation by autumn - with a few exceptions. If they do not leave voluntarily, the Omon special unit will drive them away, it was said.

In desperation, around 70 residents turned to President Vladimir Putin with a video message. »Our hometowns are sealed off and completely destroyed. We can’t go back anywhere,” says Natalja. Her voice trembles slightly and falls silent in the middle of her sentence.

Shortly afterwards, employees of the Russian domestic secret service FSB showed up at the sanatorium. »We were massively intimidated. The phone was thoroughly searched,” recalls a refugee who wishes to remain anonymous. »Questions were asked like: Who are the activists, who are the traitors? Who do you support? What is your opinion on the special military operation? What do you think of the president anyway?”

With the forced eviction, the residents would not only lose their roof over their heads, but also their temporary registration at their place of residence. Without this, it will be more difficult to find an official job, register children in kindergarten and school and receive medical care.

246 people currently live in the sanatorium. The same number are housed in two neighboring emergency shelters. They all fled the Russian border area under fire or from destroyed towns and villages in the occupied Ukrainian territories.

50-year-old Marina fled Yampil in the Donetsk region with her husband Sergei and 15-year-old daughter Darina. For three and a half years the family lived in a shelter that Sergei dug under a shed. Marina did not want to flee to the territory controlled by Ukraine. »Yes, I speak Ukrainian and so does my daughter. But I'm Russian. And I had no intention of submitting. In a country where men become cannon fodder," she says.

It was not until February 2026 that the family managed to escape the war zone. She arrived at the shelter in April. Sergej now works in a neighboring hotel. Marina cannot work for the time being due to health problems. In the six months in Russia, the family was only able to save 35,000 rubles (372 euros). This means she can neither rent an apartment nor finance her onward journey. They don't even have warm clothes.

Marina is annoyed by the indifferent officials who “pull their faces” at the sight of her Ukrainian documents. She emphasizes that she and her parents are Russian and that she longed to come to Russia.

Many residents of the emergency shelter share their experiences. When they moved in, they were promised that they would be able to stay in the accommodation until the war was over, the refugees assure us. However, many of those whose homes were destroyed would be happy to move out if they received compensation for reconstruction. They cannot understand that in their new home they encounter contemptuous officials, complicated bureaucracy and controls by security forces.

Balloons are stuck to the walls of Anna's room. She recently celebrated her daughter Rita's twelfth birthday with her family and shortly afterwards Anna's mother Irina's 62nd birthday. For both of them it was another birthday away from home.

The family comes from Kupyansk. When the Russian army entered the city without a fight in the first days of the invasion in February 2022, Anna, now 39, lived not far from a bridge that was constantly under fire. The family was stuck in the basement throughout March. Anna and Rita became ill. When rumors arose that Russia could not hold Kupyansk, the family left the city in April 2022.

Anna in her room. She quit her job to care for her sick mother Irina and her daughter Rita. Photo: Bereg/CC They spent the next eight months in Belgorod. Without registering, Anna and Irina could not apply for ID cards; Rita was not allowed to go to school. Eventually, Anna found a job and met a colleague who helped her get temporary registration. Other refugees had to pay 9,000 rubles (96 euros) for six months.

Gradually, the family's life began to return to normal - until the end of 2022, when a Ukrainian rocket hit the house next door. The family then moved to Voronezh.

In 2023, Irina was diagnosed with breast cancer. The family was then offered to move to the emergency shelter in the Tula region. Irina had to undergo two operations and is dependent on care. Rita was bullied at school and therefore receives paid online lessons. Anna quit her job to care for her mother and look after her daughter.

The entire family income currently consists of Irina's pension and child benefit: a total of 34,000 rubles (362 euros) per month. Almost half of it goes towards school costs, says Anna. The money was barely enough to live on - until the administration of the Tula region decided to evict the refugees from the emergency shelter. Only Irina is allowed to stay.

72-year-old Vera Nikolaevna comes from the Kursk region. Their village is about 60 kilometers from the border. “It was unbearable,” she remembers. The shelling began in the first days of the war.

However, until the summer of 2023, Vera Nikolaevna had not thought about leaving home. That changed when Ukrainian saboteurs allegedly shelled a convoy of Russian soldiers just 20 kilometers from their home. Her 48-year-old daughter Olga immediately came to help her pack quickly. They just wanted to leave. They have been living in the emergency shelter ever since. “The most important thing is that they let us live here,” says the pensioner. “At least until spring.”

Vera's daughter Olga also has a long escape behind her. She initially stayed in Soledar in the Donetsk region with her husband Nikolaj and her daughter Alina until Wagner fighters took the family out of the city. At the beginning of January 2023, when the mercenaries invaded, Soledar was already badly damaged. The Ukrainian army had offered the family evacuation several times, but they refused. Nikolaj was 58 years old at the time and therefore still of military age. The family loved their city, lived in prosperity and did not want to lose what they had built for themselves.

Vera Nikolayevna from the Kursk region in the room where she lives with her daughter. Portraits of family members hang above her. Photo: Berge/CC Olga, Nikolaj and Alina waited for the Russian troops to arrive. "We simply believed in Russia, in the words: 'We won't abandon our people.' Exactly in these words," says Alina.

»We understand that nobody needs us. They left us the body, but they took away our life.”

Even when the Wagner fighters suggested they leave, Alina and her parents initially did not want to leave the city. But the mercenaries insisted and assured them: "Don't worry, everything will be fine. Russia will welcome you there and give you everything.” The family set off knowing that they would be waiting for them in Russia. Disillusionment followed quickly. In Torez, 80 kilometers away, people were not prepared for the arrival of the refugees. “Then we realized: Nobody needs us,” remembers Olga.

Despite his many years of work as a miner, Nikolaj only received a pension of 10,000 rubles (107 euros) in Russia. Alina found a job in a cafe in Torez. Her parents moved to the Vladimir region for work. Nikolaj died there of cardiac arrest in 2024. Olga returned to her daughter.

In June 2025, the refugee center in Torez was closed. The two women then moved to the Tula region. They are disappointed and angry that they do not feel welcome in Russia. Alina has changed jobs several times. Her colleagues everywhere called her “khokhlushka,” a derogatory term for Ukrainian women.

Alina also hopes to be able to stay in the emergency shelter at least until spring. Until then, the two want to save money to rent an apartment. If this fails, Alina and Olga consider returning to the occupied territory to Svitlodarsk, about 35 kilometers from Soledar. Although the city is under fire, the rents are cheap.

Olga is crying. She doesn't have a single photo of her relatives left. In a choked voice she says: “We understand that no one needs us. They took our lives. They left us the body, but they took away our life.”

On October 5th, officials came to the emergency shelter and offered the refugees the opportunity to continue living in the sanatorium for a fee. The residents fear that the accommodation would then cost as much as an apartment in the region. But they don't have that much money.

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