Information Vacuum

In great secrecy and with the help of a virtual private network, Ukrainian children log into online classes. Others wait until late at night, when internet restrictions ease, hoping to send completed assignments to teachers on the government-controlled territory. They know it is dangerous. If Ukrainian children are caught taking part in these lessons, their families face serious consequences. Worse, maintaining that connection is becoming increasingly difficult. Since the beginning of Russia's occupation of Crimea and parts of Donetsk and Luhansk regions in 2014, access to Ukrainian media and education has become increasingly challenging. It began with the blocking websites. It has now evolved into a tightly controlled information environment where independent news outlets are inaccessible, communication platforms are restricted, and even possessing certain applications can put people under suspicion.

According to Kateryna Rashevska, an international lawyer and expert at the Regional Centre for Human Rights, Russia has dramatically intensified its efforts to control Ukrainians' access to information over the past two years.

"The Russian Federation, starting most actively from 2025, although there had been steps before that, has effectively adopted a policy of closing the information space because this allows it to fully control the consciousness of the younger generation," she says.

She points to remarks made by Russian President Vladimir Putin during a meeting with participants of the so-called "special military operation."

"Today the frontline runs through the minds of the younger generation, and on this frontline Russia is obliged to win."

For Rashevska, those words explain why information has become another battlefield.

After blocking Ukrainian websites, Russia has implemented legal restrictions and intimidation designed to discourage people from accessing independent information. She says families risk punishment if Russian security services discover banned applications or communications during phone inspections.

"There are manipulations and sometimes direct threats... if during inspections of mobile phones, laptops or tablets prohibited applications are found, such as Zoom, Telegram or WhatsApp, then the whole family may face problems, and the child as well."

She adds that some families attempting to leave occupied territories have been accused of treason simply because officials found correspondence with Ukrainian authorities on their devices.

The tightening restrictions are also reshaping access to Ukrainian education.

According to Ukraine's Ministry of Education and Science, around 44,000 children living under occupation were enrolled in Ukrainian online education in 2024. By the end of 2025, that number had fallen to between 32,000 and 33,000. Rashevska cautions that these figures likely underestimate participation because many children use VPN services that mask their actual location.

"We do not know today how many children preserve these ties with Ukraine through education," she says. "Education is not only acquiring knowledge, forming a personality and development, but it is also preserving one's own identity and preserving this connection with one's homeland."

Russian authorities demand attendance of occupation schools, making Russian education mandatory while eliminating Ukrainian-language education. The Russian curriculum is heavily militarised and full of pro-war propaganda. For children forced to attend these schools, there is little opportunity to pursue their Ukrainian studies. But parents who refuse to send children to Russian schools risk being prosecuted under Russian legislation.

The restrictions extend well beyond classrooms.

Andrii Dikhtiarenko, founder and editor-in-chief of Realna Hazeta newspaper, originally from Luhansk region, has spent years documenting life inside occupied territories.

"Starting from 2014, the occupiers gradually restricted access to various sources of information. It all began around 2015-2016, when local internet providers were forced by the so-called Ministry of Information, the FSB and its proxy security services to block access to numerous information websites from Ukraine and beyond."

His own newsroom was among those blocked.

Residents quickly adapted, using VPNs to bypass restrictions. But as Russia expanded controls, the list of banned platforms grew to include social media, communication services and applications used to connect with relatives outside occupied territories.

"Now there is either the possibility of using a VPN, which is also quite dangerous, or using some third-party resources for communication that are not blocked."

Even those options remain uncertain, he explained, this situation with blockages is dynamic. For journalists, reaching audiences inside occupied territories requires constant adaptation.

After platforms such as Facebook and YouTube became increasingly difficult to access, Realna Hazeta has shifted more of its work to TikTok.

"About 30 to 40 per cent of our TikTok audience still comes from occupied territories. We counted it."

While he believes many younger residents have learned to use VPNs and find alternative information sources, there is no reliable data showing how many people continue to access independent reporting, particularly among older generations with limited digital skills.

Communication itself has become risky.

People often rely on Telegram voice calls, email or less restricted messaging applications. They have had to adapt the way they communicate, resorting to simple conversations, because Russian authorities can easily check phones.

"People can be stopped and asked to unlock their phones. They study people's correspondence, who they follow, which Telegram channels they subscribe to."

Political conversations with relatives are largely avoided.

"We communicate with relatives mainly about everyday issues connected with survival, and we also try not to touch politics unnecessarily."

He says Russian-controlled media reinforce the repressive atmosphere by avoiding coverage of local problems while promoting narratives about prosperity under Russian rule.

"They do not talk about problems people face. Instead, they constantly say that occupied territories are about to flourish under Russian rule... A real information vacuum is created."

For Rashevska, the consequences extend far beyond the war itself.

Drawing on research into the long-term effects of forced assimilation, she warns that prolonged isolation, indoctrination and militarisation may leave lasting psychological scars on children growing up under occupation.

"These children and especially young people will require special care, special social services, psychological adaptation and reintegration services in order to return to normal life."

In occupied Ukraine, access to information is no longer simply a question of internet connectivity. It has become a struggle over identity, memory and the ability of an entire generation to remain connected to the country they still call home.