When Russia invaded Ukraine more than four years ago, Alina Otzemko faced the daunting challenge of explaining war to her young son, Yurii, who was just 1½ years old at the time. Her husband had joined the Ukrainian Army shortly after the conflict began, leaving her to confront difficult questions about his absence and the destruction unfolding around them. This experience inspired Ms. Otzemko, a psychologist, to write a children’s book aimed at helping parents talk about war with their children.
Her first book, titled "Why Isn’t Dad at Home?," portrays the conflict from Yurii’s perspective, capturing his fears when planes fly overhead and his visits to army bases, where the usual childhood trappings are replaced by weapons and military equipment. The book was completed by mid-2024, but before her husband could write the foreword, he was killed in action on June 7. Ms. Otzemko then began writing a follow-up book, “Why Did Dad Die?,” to help Yurii process his grief.
Ms. Otzemko's works are part of a broader surge in Ukrainian children’s literature focused on coping with the psychological and social impacts of the war. Since the conflict’s outset, over 190 new titles have been published addressing topics such as family separation, exile, bombardments, and the traumatic realities of war. These books often introduce young readers to terms like “veterans,” “paratroopers,” and “air defenses,” while cultivating patriotism rooted in defense of the nation.
Experts note the phenomenon is unprecedented in scale. Emily Finer, a children’s literature scholar, identified more than 190 titles published since the war began, far exceeding similar publishing trends during past conflicts. She attributes the surge to a desire among Ukrainian parents to acknowledge and address trauma openly—countering a legacy of Soviet-era silence on suffering—and to promote mental health for their children.
One early example was “Battle for the City” by Volodymyr Chernishenko, which dramatizes an unnamed peaceful Ukrainian city under attack by military tanks and rockets. The story culminates with a Ukrainian fighter jet called Ghost—a reference to the legendary “Ghost of Kyiv” pilot—defending the city before being shot down. Ukrainian parents like Iryna Bilan, a telecommunications manager from Kyiv, have used such books to initiate conversations with their children about loss and sacrifice.
Other popular children’s books, such as “Rocket the Raccoon and Other Heroes” by Yevheniia Zavalii, use allegories featuring animals to express the emotions of children experiencing war. These stories help young readers process fear, grief, and resilience in ways they can understand. Ms. Bilan described how these books provide a means for her sons to confront trauma without repressing it.
In Irpin, a Kyiv suburb heavily affected during the war, a primary school director recently staged a theatrical reading of “Ommm. The Spirit of the Irpin Forest,” which tells the story of the Russian invasion through the eyes of a magical forest guardian. The event encouraged children to voice their hopes for peace and to engage with their experiences rather than suppressing them.
Alongside coping with trauma, many Ukrainian parents seek to educate their children about the military and the war’s wider social impact. Communications officer and war veteran Lera Burlakova has introduced her son to a children’s encyclopedia covering the Ukrainian Armed Forces, touching on topics ranging from military operations to the increasing role of women in the army.
For Ms. Otzemko, the process of helping her son understand his father’s death was gradual and difficult, taking months before Yurii accepted the loss as real. Her second book reflects this journey through childlike language and imagery, offering both children and parents a way to navigate conversations about death during wartime.
These children’s books have become an essential resource in Ukraine, providing tools for families to communicate about the harsh realities they face and fostering resilience amid ongoing conflict.
