‘We feel acutely what it means to be human’: Living with loss in Ukraine 

Lviv, Ukraine – Anastasiya Buchkouska, a 20-year-old student from western Ukraine, gently brushes away layers of snow and ice from her father’s grave.

She pauses, looking up at the photograph fixed to the gravestone. His face bears a striking resemblance to hers.

When her father was younger, he had served in the military. When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022, he was called up almost immediately and sent to the front line.

Contact with the family was sporadic at best. They clung to brief messages and fleeting signs of life until one day in September 2022, everything fell silent.

For seven months, he was officially listed as missing. Buchkouska said she held on to hope, though deep down she feared the worst.

When confirmation of his death finally came, grief hit hard, but amid the demands of war, she said she had little choice but to “deal with it”.

Her uncle was killed around the same time.

She focused on caring for her grandmother, who was often inconsolable, inventing topics of conversation and small activities to distract her.

In quieter moments, Buchkouska broke down into tears but tried to remind herself not to “overthink things”. This was war, she thought, and it would do her no good to wallow in grief.

The human toll

At Lychakiv Cemetery in the western city of Lviv, where Buchkouska’s father is buried, the surge in deaths in early 2022 forced authorities to allocate additional space beyond the cemetery’s walls – an area that is now itself running out of room.

Exact figures for how many people have been killed in the Russia-Ukraine war are difficult to verify. The United Nations Human Rights Monitoring Mission in Ukraine (HRMMU) confirmed that conflict-related violence killed 2,514 civilians and injured 12,142 others in the country in 2025 alone.

According to a report by the Center for Strategic and International Studies, a  Washington, DC-based think tank, nearly two million Ukrainian and Russian soldiers are estimated to have been killed, wounded, or gone missing since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion.

Russia alone is estimated to have suffered almost 1.2 million casualties, including at least 325,000 deaths.

The report says Russia’s losses exceed those endured by any major power since World War II, while Ukraine’s military casualties are estimated at between 500,000 and 600,000.

Al Jazeera is unable to verify the figures independently.

‘Everybody who lives in Ukraine has some mental health issue’

For many Ukrainians, loss is coupled with a sense of anxiety about what comes next.

“No one can predict how we will live after the war,” Kseniia Voznitsyna, a neurologist and founder of the first mental health rehabilitation centre for veterans in Ukraine, told Al Jazeera.

The human toll is already visible.

“Many people have been killed, many people live with amputations and psychological trauma,” Voznitsyna said.

“How the economy will hold up” remains uncertain, she said. “Whether people will have jobs with decent pay – these are open questions.”

For Oleksandra Matviichuk of the Center for Civil Liberties, a Kyiv-based human rights group and Nobel Peace Prize winner, the psychological weight of war is felt most sharply in everyday life.

“Living during a war means living in complete uncertainty,” Matviichuk said, adding, “We cannot plan not only our day, but also the next few hours.”

The constant fear for loved ones has become a defining feature of daily existence.

“There is no safe place in Ukraine where you can hide from Russian missiles,” said Matviichuk.

In late 2025, the UN Women’s representative in Ukraine, Sabine Freizer Gune, said “pretty much everybody” in the country “has some mental health issue”.

People, especially in eastern Ukraine or big cities such as Kyiv, Kharkiv in the northeast, or Odesa in the south, are regularly woken up to mass strikes by Russia.

In winter months, Russian forces often target infrastructure, leaving millions without electricity, heat or a reliable water supply.

As Buchkouska stood at her father’s grave, her words were stoic, but her eyes had the faint sign of tears.

If the war ends, “we will all be happy”, she said matter-of-factly, “but we cannot do anything about the people who died, we cannot make them come back to life”.

She pointed to a resilience forged under pressure.

“Trauma does not define us,” she said.“We are defined by how we overcome trauma, how we fight in these circumstances, how we support each other. Now, more than ever, we feel acutely what it means to be human.”