When Russia invaded Ukraine in early 2022, thousands of Ukrainian social orphans—children placed into state care or removed from parents deemed unable to care for them—were evacuated abroad, many to European countries including Italy. Originally intended as temporary relocations, many of these children have since resisted returning to Ukraine despite efforts by Kyiv to repatriate them.
One such case is Denys, a 15-year-old from Berdiansk, eastern Ukraine, who was relocated to a small village in the Italian Alps in March 2022 along with over 100 other orphans. Initially homesick and disoriented, Denys gradually adapted to life in Italy, attending school and forming friendships. He now expresses a strong desire to remain abroad, citing concerns about ongoing conflict, poverty, and limited opportunities in Ukraine. “I started to realise there was a different way of life I could be living—one without airstrikes and poverty,” he said.
Although Ukrainian authorities have repatriated most of the evacuated children, more than 1,500 remain in Europe, with some backed by local courts and foster families resisting Kyiv’s orders. Italian courts have occasionally overridden Ukrainian law, notably after a 15-year-old boy was legally adopted by an Italian family despite having living parents and siblings in Ukraine. Ukraine suspended international adoptions in May 2022 to prevent trafficking and wrongful placements amid the war, but some adoption attempts continue, raising concerns in Kyiv.
Ukrainian officials view the failure to return as a significant challenge, compounded by demographic pressures including a declining birthrate and the forced removal of children by Russian forces in occupied regions. Kateryna Rashevska, a legal expert on war crimes against children, warned that children who remain abroad risk losing connections to Ukrainian language, culture, and identity, which could undermine Ukraine’s future social fabric.
On the other hand, some orphans and foster families argue that returning to Ukraine poses serious risks and hardships. Evelina, now 18, was repatriated after nearly two years with an Italian foster family but describes her living conditions in Ukraine as similar to an orphanage, with limited contact with her previous caregivers and restricted freedom. She recalls her phone being confiscated, isolation from school, and periods of depression. Evelina and others highlight infrastructure damage, inadequate support services, and continuing security threats, including the risk of conscription for males over 16, as pushing young people to seek futures in the European Union.
Denys and others assert that Ukrainian social workers have used coercive tactics to encourage returns, including promises of adoption or family reunification that are not always fulfilled. Some who returned reportedly live in overcrowded institutions lacking basic amenities like running water or electricity. Maksym, another orphan, accepted repatriation reluctantly before moving to Germany after turning 18, saying the prospects for young people in Ukraine are limited.
Italian foster families and supervisors involved in caring for evacuated children emphasize the psychological toll of the back-and-forth repatriation dispute. Diego Mosca, who supervised the group in Rota d’Imagna near Bergamo, expressed concern that the situation has left lasting trauma on the children.
The repatriation issue remains a complex and sensitive challenge for all parties, highlighting the intersection of child welfare, national identity, and the broader human impacts of war. As the conflict in Ukraine continues, so does the struggle to balance the rights and futures of displaced children with the country’s demographic and cultural concerns.