We are a large family of migrants. I bring up four children alone.

The eldest son, 15-year-old Marat, lost his best friends three years ago, he went on a picnic to the forest and got blown up there. Since that ime, we have not returned to Primorskoye. Everything is mined there, shells lie around, nothing can be planted.

In Mariupol, we wandered around living in different apartments for a long time, most of benefits went to pay for housing. Six months ago, local authorities gave us a room in a community dormitory. We hope that this room will not be taken away from us.

In addition, my three-year-old son, David, needs special care because of his vision problems. There are few supportive treatments, once every three months he goes to the hospital and it costs a considerable amount.

We grew accustomed to the new place, but thoughts about our home do not leave us, I really want to at least see it again.