At first glance, it is a scene of mundane teenage chaos. A few football shirts are pinned to the walls, exercise books lie splayed open on a desk and a heap of crumpled clothes occupies a corner of the floor. It is a room that feels lived-in, familiar to anyone who has survived the awkwardness of adolescence. But as visitors step inside this installation at the headquarters of the European Commission in Brussels, the domesticity gives way to a chilling realization: the room is empty.
This is not a home, but a piece of political art designed to evoke the void left in more than 20,500 Ukrainian children who have been unlawfully taken to Russia. The installation serves as a visceral proxy for the thousands of bedrooms across Ukraine that now stand silent, their occupants stripped of their homes, their identities, and often their names.
The display arrived in Brussels as delegates from 63 countries and international organizations convened to strategize the return of these children. For the policymakers walking through the doors, the room is intended to collapse the distance between the sterile environment of diplomatic negotiations and the raw reality of the conflict. “It’s essentially a way for someone to step into Ukraine without having to actually travel there,” said Isaac Yeung, a co-creator of the work.
The atmosphere is heightened by a carefully curated soundscape—a barely audible hum that is periodically shattered by the distant rattle of wind and the thud of explosions. According to Yeung, who works with the NGO Bird of Light Ukraine, the audio is designed to create a physical sensation of anxiety, a “tension in your head, in your chest,” mirroring the psychological state of families waiting for news of their missing children.
The Composite Tragedy of ‘Artem’
The room belongs to a character named Artem, a 13-year-old boy. While Artem is a fictional creation, his story is a composite of real testimonies from children whose identities must remain hidden for their own safety. The details of the room—the heavy Soviet-era furniture and the shiny, early-2000s wallpaper—are deliberate markers of a specific generation and geography, designed to be immediately recognizable to anyone who grew up in Ukraine.
Artem’s narrative reflects a recurring pattern of deportation: living with a widowed single mother in occupied territories, enduring months of shelling, and finally being taken after Russian soldiers convinced the mother to send him to a “health camp” in Crimea. This deceptive framing—presenting forced transfers as humanitarian aid or medical necessity—has been a hallmark of the deportation process.
The scale of the crisis is staggering. Ukrainian authorities have identified more than 20,570 children who have been unlawfully deported or forcibly transferred. Of that number, only 2,133 have been returned to their families. The remaining thousands are scattered across an estimated 210 locations in Russia and Belarus, where they face a systematic effort to erase their Ukrainian heritage.
Sanctions and the ‘Warrior Centres’
In response to these findings, Western allies have moved beyond diplomatic condemnation toward targeted financial and legal pressure. The European Union and the United Kingdom recently announced new sanctions, including asset freezes and travel bans, targeting individuals and entities directly involved in the deportation machinery.
A primary target of these sanctions is the state-led Centre for Military Sports Training and Patriotic Education of Youth, commonly referred to as “warrior centres.” According to EU listings, these facilities are not merely schools but centers for cadet-style military instruction, where children are exposed to weapons and Russian nationalist ideology.
The UK has specifically sanctioned Yulia Velichko, the minister for youth in the self-proclaimed Luhansk People’s Republic. Velichko is accused of overseeing programs that force Ukrainian children to adopt Russian ideology and accept Russian passports, effectively attempting to legally sever their ties to Ukraine.
To support the recovery of these children, the UK has increased its financial commitment. Stephen Doughty, the UK’s Europe minister, announced an additional £1.2 million to help Ukraine trace children and verify their identities, adding to a previous pledge of £2.8 million. Doughty described the deportations as an attempt to “erase the future of Ukraine,” targeting the language and culture of the youth to ensure the nation’s identity vanishes with the next generation.
The Diplomatic Hurdle of Return
While sanctions provide a mechanism for punishment, the actual return of children remains a complex diplomatic puzzle. The International Coalition for the Return of Ukrainian Children, co-chaired by Ukraine and Canada and consisting of 49 members, is currently the primary vehicle for these efforts. However, the lack of “exchange parity” complicates negotiations.
Kaja Kallas, the EU’s foreign policy chief, noted that unlike prisoners of war, children cannot be easily swapped. “Because Ukraine hasn’t deported any Russian children, you can’t really exchange children to children,” Kallas explained. This asymmetry leaves Ukraine dependent on international pressure and the mediation of neutral third parties.
Thus far, Turkey and Qatar have played discreet but vital roles, mediating the return of approximately 100 children. These mediated returns are considered significantly safer than the alternatives; currently, the vast majority of children are recovered through the efforts of parents and family members who travel into occupied territories or Russia at great personal risk.
| Initiative/Entity | Role/Contribution | Key Detail |
|---|---|---|
| UK Government | Financial Support | Total £4m pledged for tracing and identity verification. |
| International Coalition | Diplomatic Framework | 49 members co-chaired by Ukraine, and Canada. |
| Turkey & Qatar | Neutral Mediation | Facilitated the return of approx. 100 children. |
| EU/UK Sanctions | Legal Pressure | Targeting “Warrior Centres” and regional youth ministers. |
The Long Road to Reintegration
For the children who do return, the battle is far from over. The trauma of prolonged separation, combined with the psychological impact of forced indoctrination, requires specialized care. Zhanna Galeyeva, head of Bird of Light Ukraine, emphasizes that being told to believe the opposite of everything you knew about your identity is a deeply traumatic experience.
The goal of the Brussels installation is to ensure that policymakers do not view these children as mere statistics on a briefing paper. “We brought this here so that the policymakers wake up their own father and mother inside, and their own child inside, and remember that this cannot wait,” Galeyeva said.
Note: If you or a loved one have been affected by the trauma of war or forced separation, support is available through the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) and various mental health organizations specializing in conflict trauma.
The installation is scheduled to travel next to other high-profile venues, including the Italian parliament and the European parliament in Strasbourg, to maintain international momentum. The next critical checkpoint for the coalition will be the ongoing verification of identities for children currently held in Russian-administered “health camps” and adoption centers.
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