The families of the missing fear of Ukraine will not return them home

Tatyana Popovytch contacted any agency he could think of. She had gone every step that her son Vladislav could take after the Russians opened fire in his car, letting him run away with a bullet in his leg. She had looked in mass graves, looking at pictures of the dead, looking at exhumations. And after a month, she knew no more than when she started.

Then a stranger called.

Serhii was just released from a Russian prison in Kursk. In Morning Roll Call, prisoners could not be seen, but they could hear each person indicated their full name and a home village. Sergi saves as many names and places as possible – a total of 10, he said – and on May 9, 2022. He called Tatiana to say he heard her son’s voice.

Like Vladislav, Sergi was a civilian, captured by Bucha at the beginning of the war, when hundreds of civilians were taken from this area. Vladislav was 29 at the time. Now at 32, he is still in prison in Kursk. Sergi could not explain to Tatiana why he had been released and Vladislav did not have. Tatiana was just glad to hear that her son was alive. “I was so glad that I lost the stutter I had from him,” she said.

Three years later, till the day, Tatiana was sitting in a cafe in Bucha, not far from where her son was abducted and examined the scarce evidence that he was still alive: two letters from him – short, hotplate written in Russian, telling her that she was well fed and care. It took each letter about three months to reach Tatiana, which made it difficult for her to feel very connected to her son at any time.

“My son is very gentle and sensitive,” she said with the painful expression of a parent who cannot protect her child. She was looking at pictures of Vlad’s ballroom dancing, a hobby of a young age. “He’s so vulnerable,” she said. “I’m worried that he will lose his strength there.”

According to Ukrainian authorities, nearly 16,000 Ukrainian civilians are still captured in Russian prisons after being abducted by the invading army – without taking into account more than 20,000 Ukrainian children, calculated to have been taken to Russia.

There are now increasing fears among their many thousands of loved ones, against the backdrop of obvious progress to peace talks that they can be forgotten or lost in the process. And these fears seem justified.

According to the Geneva Convention, there is a recognized mechanism for the exchange of prisoners of war, but there is no such mechanism for the return of captured civilians, leaving even top Ukrainian and international employees looking for an explanation of how they can be brought home.

“When I attend official meetings, in the Ombudsman’s office or elsewhere, no one talks about the return of civilians in the event of a ceasefire,” says 23 -year -old Julia Hripun, whose father was abducted early in the war from a village west of Kiev.

In the weeks after learning of her father’s captivity, Julia uses Facebook to contact another daughter of a closed Ukrainian in prison and the couple launches a new campaign organization for all civilian release.

The group met with UN representatives, the European Parliament, the governments of several EU countries and the US Embassy in Ukraine.

“We talked to them, but it came to the fact that they honestly did not understand what would happen,” Julia said to meet the Americans.

“The only thing they said is that Trump is interested in the question of deported children and that maybe civilians can somehow fit into this category. But they are actually different categories that cannot be combined.”

It is alarming for Julia and other relatives of the captured civilians, senior Ukrainian officials do not pretend to have a stronger idea.

“I do not see the true, effective approach to returning civil detainees to Ukraine,” says Dmytro Lubinets, Ombudsman of the country for human rights. “We have no legal basis or the mechanisms of returning them,” he said, honestly.

A more complication of the problem is that Russia equals the penalty accusations against some of the caught during the invasion.

“And when you see these accusations, these are often” actions against a special military operation, “Lyubine said.” Can you imagine an investigation against Ukrainian civilian for simply resisting the invading Russian army in Ukrainian territory? “

In May, Russia launched 120 detained citizens as part of a large swap than prisoners of war and additional exchanges are expected. But the numbers have still disappeared small compared to the tens of thousands that are said to have been seized – adults and children. And great uncertainty remains on the way to a contractual peace.

“You want to believe that he is going home, at the same time you can’t believe it,” says Petro Sfero, 61 -year -old, Irpin bus driver near Kiev, whose son Artim was captured more than three years ago. “It’s extremely difficult.”

Peter and his wife live in a temporary container in Irpin because their home is destroyed at the invasion. Even three years on, every time the phone rings Petro, he thinks he can be Artym.

“It is one to have a letter saying he is alive, but to hear his voice … It would be the joy that he is really alive.”

Families live like this, with desperate hope. The dream is that they will see their loved ones again. However, this is not a direct dream – some fear that the Russian captivity will have caused lasting damage.

Tatiana, whose son of ball dancing Vladislav was abducted by Bucha, said she was now numb to hear the Russian language, “because this is the language in which my son is tormented.”

There is also the question of what was missed. During Vladislav’s detention, his father died unexpectedly at only 50 years old, carrying a well of guilty that he was unable to protect his son.

All he can do is prepare himself mentally for Vladislav’s return. She was expecting to “feel every possible emotion,” she said. “That’s all I can think of. All the time, every day.”

Daria Mittius contributed to this report. Photos by Joel Gunter