©julien cresp
In the middle of a pile of clothes made available to displaced people by the Theater of Dramatic Art in Ivano-Frankivsk, I met Sergii, 37, Ana, 35, and their son Stefan, 5. All three arrived from Kharkiv a few weeks after the start of the war.

Ana sketches a very sad smile because she does not forget that her other 11-year-old son, who remained with her ex-husband in Mariupol, was taken by the Russians, like many other children, to Rostov-on-the- Don, across the Ukrainian border. Since she hasn't heard from him...
©julien cresp
Irina, 42, and her son Artem, 7, arrived from Brovary, on the outskirts of Kyiv, after spending two weeks with nineteen other people in the basement of a house owned by friends.

When the shelling became intense, they had to leave their shelter and walked more than ten kilometers, hiding in sunflower fields to escape Russian fire and passing through destroyed villages.

When they arrived at Brovary station, they were taken care of by volunteers who offered them several destinations in the west of the country; they chose Ivano-Frankivsk.

Since then, they have lived in a school where Artem takes distance learning courses, plays and practices sports with other children whose backgrounds are just as dramatic as his.
©julien_cresp
Nikolaï, 32, arrived from Tchernihiv the day of your meeting. When I saw him sitting on his seat, his ear glued to his cell phone, I felt like calling him Birdy...
©julien cresp
Valentina, from the suburbs of Kyiv, is 64 years old. She spent ten days in an air-raid shelter as her town came under intense bombardment given its proximity to a strategic industrial area.

Her daughter-in-law and her two grandchildren fled to Poland. His son, an English teacher before the war, has settled in Lviv where, like many men who can be mobilized at any time, he works as a volunteer to welcome the displaced.

The silence that surrounds Valentina's daily life, in this small classroom of one of the many schools in Ivano-Frankivsk transformed into places of accommodation, now seems unreal to her.

And even if Valentina now feels safe, she bursts into tears at the mention of these disastrous memories.
©julien_cresp
©julien cresp
©julien cresp
Ana, 66, from the Zaporizhia region, arrived in Ivano-Frankivsk three weeks after the start of the war. On the night of March 4 or 5, 2022 Russian rockets fell a few meters from his home. With her neighbours, she then lived for more than 10 days in a cellar. When the shelling became incessant, she had to leave the city, then mostly occupied by the Russians after the latter took everything of value from her house, including food for children.

She now lives in a classroom, with her husband and daughter. And her dog.
©julien cresp
Vlad, a market gardener, and Nika, a bank loan expert, arrived with their one-year-old baby, Dmitro, from Brovary, on the outskirts of Kyiv.
©julien cresp
©julien cresp
Alessia, 34, is an architect. With her husband Sergii, 44, and their two children, Stanislav, 9 years old and Ana-Maria, 5 years old, they arrived from the suburbs of kyiv, not far of Irpin, 9 days after the beginning of the war, 9 days to hear the crash of bombs every day and fear the worst for their children.
They show me pictures of the house of
their neighbors in flames, and do not know what fate has been reserved for theirs.
©julien cresp
Oleksandra, 22, an audiovisual production assistant, arrived from Kyiv the day after the first bombings. She will never forget the fifteen hours by train it took to cover the 600 km that separate Kyiv from Ivano-Frankivsk, nor these 13 people who shared the same modest cabin as her, the fear in the eyes of her compatriots, children, pets or the few cherished objects they held desperately in their arms.

Oleksandra considered for a time leaving Ukraine for Georgia where she could pursue her profession. Because of a community of destinies, Georgia has indeed become a land of welcome for many Ukrainians fleeing the war.

Feeling more useful to her people, however, she returned to Kyiv after the Russians redeployed in Donbass.
©julien_cresp
Dmytro, forty, a computer engineer, arrived from Dnipro with his wife and four-year-old son in Ivano-Frankivsk shortly before the start of the war. Having bought an apartment not far from the airport, his wife and children fled to Bulgaria in the days following the bombing of Ivano-Frankivsk airport on the first day of the war, February 24, 2022.

Since then, Dmitro has occupied a collective room made available by the association Vdoma (“The house”), which shelters Ukrainians displaced from bombarded areas.

Like all Ukrainians over the age of eighteen, he cannot leave the territory and may be mobilized at any time.
©julien cresp
©julien cresp
Julya, 46, human Resources manager, arrived alone in Ivano-Frankivsk, her son having remained in Kyiv. Julya has since become chief manager
of the beautiful green plant in front of which she has installed her bed and which she takes care of,
in this classroom that houses three other people.
©julien cresp
©julien cresp
Sergii, 44, from Irpin, in the Kiyv suburb, shows me the most precious object in his eyes: his Bible. If it was an object that he wanted to take with him, it was of course on this one. While his gaze remained fleeing and closed, he suddenly offers me a magnificent smile.
©julien cresp
Satani and Moujer, of Armenian origin, arrived from Donetsk 10 days after the beginning of the bombings around their place.
©Julien CRESP
©julien cresp
Lida, 32, employed in the pharmaceutical industry, arrived from Kharkiv with her two children, Nikita, 5, Igor, 11, her mother and stepmother. Her husband, who remained in Kharkiv, is now part of the Territorial Defense Brigades.
©julien cresp
©julien cresp