Inside the ‘underground railroad’ Ukraine is using to bring back children from Russia

Inside the ‘underground railroad’ Ukraine is using to bring back children from Russia

Rostyslav Lavrov was determined to flee. At 19, he had escaped a Russian naval academy in Crimea, where he was sent at 16 after Moscow’s forces seized his hometown in Ukraine’s Kherson region. The school had attempted to issue him a new Russian birth certificate to formalize his assimilation. But Lavrov refused to accept that identity. In October 2023, he executed a covert plan to return to Ukraine, walking out of his dorm unnoticed. His journey was part of a larger effort to reclaim over 2,000 Ukrainian children and teens who had been deported, transferred, or stranded in Russia, Belarus, or Russian-occupied zones.

Many of these children had to leave in secrecy, as official exits under Russian control were rare. Ukraine has mobilized global support to pressure Russia into cooperation, forming alliances to rescue the displaced. Yet, results have been modest. Only about a quarter of the 2,000 children who returned did so through formal means: 83 with Qatar’s help and 19 via a U.S.-led initiative led by Melania Trump. Lavrov’s escape required three months of preparation before he finally left the academy.

He relied on volunteers from Save Ukraine, an organization focused on rescuing children in occupied areas. “I chose a day when classes were held elsewhere. I dressed normally and acted as if I was going to study,” Lavrov explained to CNN. “Volunteers were waiting nearby to take me out.” To avoid attention, he carried nothing. His nerves at checkpoints were evident, though he managed to stay composed. He later learned the trip was riskier than he realized—Russian authorities marked him as “missing and wanted.”

Mykola Kuleba, founder of Save Ukraine and former children’s ombudsman, described Lavrov’s case as typical. “Each child’s escape is a special operation,” Kuleba said, urging CNN to withhold details to protect volunteers. He emphasized that the group avoids working with Russian officials or those in occupied territories, as sharing information often leads to complications. “Moscow will do anything to stop a child from returning once they know Ukraine wants them back,” Kuleba warned.

Yulia Dvornychenko faced such obstacles firsthand. In 2021, she was arrested in Torez, a town in eastern Ukraine controlled by pro-Russian separatists since 2014. Accused of being a spy, she was separated from her sons—Danylo, 17, and Mark, 9—when her partner was detained. The Russian authorities threatened to send her children to an orphanage unless she signed a false confession. She complied, but the loss of her sons became a personal battle. Dvornychenko later worked with Ukrainian officials to bring them home, though the process was fraught with challenges.

Russian authorities initially offered to return Mark, now 11, during a prisoner exchange. Dvornychenko reassured him, explaining that being blindfolded and tied meant he was coming back. However, the exchange location in Zaporizhzhia became a waiting game. A week passed without Mark’s arrival. The Russian Commissioner for Human Rights then introduced new conditions, demanding Dvornychenko personally retrieve him—a move Ukraine rejected to avoid re-arrest risks. The ordeal highlights the ongoing struggle to reunite families amid Russia’s tactics.