“Home is where my сhildren are”: Alena's story

Alena recalls that in the first weeks after the move “so much was unclear”: deadlines, registration, paperwork, clinics, certificates, medical check-ups, school. At moments like that, it can feel as if life has turned into an endless marathon and a long list of tasks, each of which must be solved urgently.

Alena arrived in Belarus in June 2024 with her two sons. At the time, her elder son, Mikhail, was 16 and her younger, Alexey, was 10. “The priority was the children and their future,” she explains.

Belarus did not feel to Alena like “another planet.” Quite the opposite. Here she had the feeling that time had been rewound as if she had been “returned to childhood, when things were comfortable, light, and carefree.” That means that after the anxiety and uncertainty brought by the conflict in Ukraine, there was a space where she could exhale and begin, once again, to put life back together piece by piece, like a puzzle.

In the interview, Alena spoke about the first months after the move, the search for a job and school for her children, the support that helped her cope with uncertainty, and those small victories from which a sense of home gradually takes shape.

A string of happy coincidences

Work came along entirely by chance as if someone invisible, at exactly the right moment, decided: “Let her be lucky.” By training, Alena is a teacher of Russian language and literature. In Belarus, she works as a tutor, supporting children with autism spectrum disorders, and to this day she calls the way things worked out with her job “a coincidence and good luck.”

She rented an apartment in Minsk, moved in, and immediately checked the map to find the nearest school. She went to speak with the principal. How astonished she was when, instead of the formal “appointments only on certain days,” she heard the question: “Do you already have a job?” And so, quite literally, “it worked out on the first try”: there was a place for her and her children.

It sounds easy, but Alena does not pretend it was: adapting takes strength. “The first year was an adaptation year for me personally. I wanted to sleep as at times it was emotionally and psychologically draining with children at work.”

But what “came together” most symbolically was what happened with her elder son Misha. The school had a specialized physics-and-math track, and finding a place in a graduating class can be its own stroke of luck. For him, a spot opened up almost immediately: one of the students decided to leave after Grade 10. Just a few days later the family was told: Misha is accepted. Several things aligned at once, the school was close to home, it offered the right track, there was work and the anxiety receded for a while.

Support that turns chaos into a path forward to formalizing status

In the first months, Alena says, what saved them was “word of mouth”— people who could point them where to go and what to do. She found information through different sources: UNHCR and Telegram channels of specialized aid organizations and volunteers. Gradually, alongside these tips, more structured support appeared: the family received financial assistance from UNHCR twice. These funds helped cover the most urgent expenses.

Alena learned about the Refugee Counselling Service, a partner project of UNHCR, through an information stand and a leaflet at Belarus’ Department for Citizenship and Migration, where she went to regularize her status. Today the family has complementary protection status, which is a significant support and a source of reassurance.

Later, Alena attended a CV-writing workshop organized by UNHCR. She describes it as very useful: it helps people navigate the labour market and restores the feeling that everything can be solved.

Being an example for her children

Alena has an important phrase she repeats almost like a mantra: “In any situation you must not give up,” adding that “when you’re a parent, you take responsibility… You must be an example for your children.”

At the same time, she does not try to appear perfect. She says openly: there are days when everything piles up; there are financial issues that have to be dealt with so she learns new things in order to broaden opportunities for herself and her boys. For example, she plans to take hairdressing courses in the summer. She assures: “If you have the desire, everything will work out.”

She has also found a powerful remedy for any sadness, it is movement. She goes to the swimming pool and the gym, has lost ten kilograms, and regained the feeling that she is once again in control of her body and her life. Her elder son, who is now a student at the Belarusian National Technical University, also goes to the gym and sometimes even develops training sessions for his mum. His friends and fellow students often gather at their home, play guitars, and chat both among themselves and with Misha’s mum.

“Mum, hurry up!”

Her sons fill everyday life with bright and joyful moments.

Alena recalls one such episode, almost laughing: “Misha calls: ‘Mom, I’m making ciabatta.’ I go: What are you making?’ — ‘Well, I bought tomatoes, sausage… When are you getting home from work? It’s still hot, you’ll make it in time, come quickly.’”

Alena describes her relationship with Misha like this: “We’re not just mother and son… we’re friends.” They discuss plans, argue, laugh, and can talk “about anything,” and there is so much trust in that. Of course, it does not cancel out responsibility or parenthood, but it certainly makes it warmer.

Little islands of rest

Alena likes having somewhere to go not only for errands. She has favourite places in Minsk. For example, Tsnyanka Reservoir: her younger son is a “fisherman,” while she loves sunbathing. They have different interests, one shared route.

And then there is Chelyuskintsev Park of Culture and Leisure: “We never leave without a toy.” Those toys then become gifts: “over the course of the year, Lesha (Alexey) gives them away … to his class teacher, to the girls.”

Outside Minsk, they have been on school excursions: Mir and Nesvizh castles. Small outings that bring lots of positive emotions.

A sense of home

The most poignant topic is home. For some it is an exact location on the map, the city of one’s childhood or youth, the place where parents live, where one was happy, or something else. Alena’s variant: “Home is where you are waited for… for me, it’s my children… Home is where my children are.”

Thankfully, Alena speaks with her parents every day. She has also found friends and good acquaintances in Minsk — mothers of Misha’s ex-classmates, colleagues at school, and in general, few people can resist Alena’s charm and bubbling energy.

This story is about how one can keep moving forward even when one is scared and in pain, how one can learn something new, dream about the signboard of a future beauty salon, and still remain a mother who will not allow herself or her children to sink into despair.