By: Jehiely Balabarca
Four years after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine began on Feb. 24, 2022, the conflict continues to exact a profound toll on civilians, infrastructure and families, well beyond what most headlines convey today.
In 2025 alone, conflict-related violence killed at least 2,514 civilians and injured more than 12,000, according to the United Nations Human Rights Monitoring Mission in Ukraine (HRMMU), marking the deadliest year for civilians since the invasion began. Verified casualties in 2025 were 31% higher than in 2024 and 70% higher than in 2023.
Despite a global media landscape that increasingly treats the war as distant, the conflict remains profoundly present for many Ukrainian students studying abroad. Their families, friends and homelands remain in the uncertain daily reality of bombardments, power outages and displacement, even as these students navigate college life far from home.
This article explores the experiences of several Ukrainian students at Southern Adventist University and the testimony of a parent still living in Ukraine, interwoven with data confirming the continuing humanitarian impact of the war.
According to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), the war has produced one of the largest displacement crises in modern European history. An estimated 5.9 million Ukrainians have fled abroad, roughly 14% of Ukraine’s pre-war population of about 41 million people, while at least 3.7 million (9%) remain internally displaced within the country.
The damage to civilian life and essential infrastructure has been extensive. A recent assessment by the World Bank, United Nations and European Commission estimates that 14% of housing stock, more than three million households, has been damaged or destroyed in the conflict. Among other issues, energy, transport and heating systems have been heavily impacted by sustained attacks.
Repeated strikes on energy infrastructure have caused prolonged blackouts, leaving millions without reliable electricity, heat or water, including during harsh winter months. One humanitarian update notes that a significant escalation in attacks rendered up to 50% of Ukraine’s energy generation and much of its natural gas production offline, exacerbating civilian hardship and daily life struggles.
This context shapes the lived experiences of students whose families remain in Ukraine or who left amid conflict and displacement.
Across academic disciplines, Ukrainian students currently enrolled at Southern Adventist University describe a balancing act: pursuing rigorous college work while remaining emotionally tethered to the well-being and upheaval facing their loved ones back home.
One male student, who requested anonymity due to safety concerns for his family, studies mathematics and theology and has additional interests in journalism and politics. He described his parents’ precarious situation in Ukraine, where nights can be marked by rocket attacks and families feel they must keep vigilance more than rest.
He spoke about his frustration with perspectives on campus and broader society that prioritize political arguments over the fundamental value of human life.
“I wish people would value human life above all else, recognizing that no one has the right to take it away for any reason, including differing political views,” he told the Accent.
Despite occasional political disagreement, the student said expressions of prayer and community support, especially from older members of the campus community, have offered comfort and reinforced his sense that others do care about the human consequences of the war.
For Alona Zahreba, a freshman film production major, the physical harshness of war’s impact is familiar. Zahreba described how her father in Ukraine endured up to 20 hours of daily power outages and frigid winter conditions with limited access to heat or electricity. The absence of basic utilities compounds the danger and psychological exhaustion that many civilians experience.
Zahreba also spoke about a persistent emotional burden: the guilt of living comfortably while others suffer.
“I always feel ashamed that we have basic needs that we can meet,…while at the same time, people in Ukraine do not,” she said.
Her experience reflects a broader tension many refugees and diasporic students feel, particularly in educational environments where daily life appears stable, even as crisis persists thousands of miles away.
Anastasiia Shtanko, a sophomore film production major, described how her family has adapted to living with danger and disruption. Shtanko said her brain learns to normalize stress, however, it remains difficult to allow herself to feel joy.
“It’s hard. You don’t allow yourself to be fully happy; it seems like it’s wrong,” she said.
In contrast, Vilina Prenko, a sophomore in computer science, reflected on her family’s relocation to multiple countries following the outbreak of war, including Canada and the United States. She acknowledged the privilege of being safe and with her family but also lamented how common misconceptions can obscure understanding of Ukraine’s history and national identity.
“Many people think of Ukraine as part of Russia and don’t know how long Ukrainians were fighting for their independence,” she said.
Kseniia Bezkrovna, a sophomore in business administration, said the conflict creates a persistent emotional tug between two lives: her day-to-day studies in the U.S. and the knowledge that her parents and grandparents remain in Ukraine. Bezkrovna said a routine call or news check can cloud over her academic life with concerns for family safety
“In the evenings, reality returns,” she said.
Bezkrovna also highlighted a dissonance she encounters when discussing the war with others: the sense that people sometimes grow tired of hearing about it, even though for her and many Ukrainians, the war “is still happening.”
“War is not just news or numbers. It is about how many people survive today, how many children lose their homes, their schools, or their parents.”
Bezkrovna’s father, Hennadii Bezkrovnyi, who still lives in Kyiv, shared his experience of war.
Bezkrovnyi said he had lost his sense of security, explaining how the sound of explosions, once imaginable only in films, has become a visceral reality that triggers instant fear.
“When an air raid warning sounds, you no longer think, you act automatically,” he said.
Bezkrovnyi described severe winter conditions, frequent power outages due to shelling and the emotional strain of having children scattered across different continents.
Hennadii also referenced the emotional and economic impacts of the conflict, such as rising prices and the exhaustion that comes from constant negative news and rocket attacks. He compared the situation to Job’s suffering in the Bible, asking.
“we all ask God the same question: “Why, Lord?” Why exactly? Why are our children scattered around the world? Why are innocent people dying? There is no answer” he said, while still expressing belief in eventual peace and normalcy for his city.
His testimony situates the personal experience of war within broader themes of resilience and faith while enduring uncertainty.
The experiences of these students and their parents illustrate that, even as news cycles shift, the human reality of war persists in everyday life. Verified data on civilian casualties, displacement and infrastructure damage underscores that 2025 was among the deadliest years for civilians since the invasion began.
The testimonies collected here reflect pain, resilience, guilt, identity, misunderstanding, endurance and complex human realities that cannot be captured by trendlines alone. For these students, the war remains present not only in their families’ struggles but in their own emotional and academic journeys.
For the students interviewed, the war continues to shape daily routines, emotional well-being and their ability to fully engage in academic life, as concerns for family members in Ukraine remain constant. Their accounts illustrate how the effects of the conflict persist beyond shifting news cycles, continuing to influence the lived experiences of those with direct ties to the region.
