When Russian missiles began raining down on Ukrainian cities in February 2022, classrooms became casualties. Over 1,700 schools have been damaged since the invasion began, according to the Ukrainian Ministry of Education and Science. For millions of children, the familiar rhythm of school life was shattered, replaced by the blare of air raid sirens and lessons held in bomb shelters. Yet, amid the chaos, Ukraine has chosen not only to keep education alive, but to reinvent it for a new era.
The war’s impact on Ukraine’s education system has been profound. UNESCO warns that every month of disrupted learning can set students back double that time in progress. By 2023, the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) revealed Ukrainian 15-year-olds lagging 1.5 years behind their European peers in math and science, and 2.5 years behind in reading. The stakes are existential: without robust education, Ukraine risks losing not just a generation, but its future.
But in the face of adversity, Ukraine is building something new. The state-owned digital platform Mriia—meaning “dream”—has become the backbone of the nation’s educational response. Supporting over 2,000 schools and potentially reaching more than a million students, parents, and teachers, Mriia is more than a stopgap. It’s a leap forward, designed to break from a Soviet-era system that emphasized rote memorization and conformity over curiosity and critical thinking.
“Every child’s right to learn is non-negotiable. This became our guiding principle,” declared Ukraine’s Ministry of Education and Science. The platform offers digital schedules, homework, grades, and safe communication channels, with AI-generated tests and automated registers that save teachers precious hours. Parents can track their children’s progress in real time, while headteachers can now build school timetables in hours instead of weeks.
The technology is already changing lives. In Nikopol, a frontline city, the local boarding lyceum managed to resume classes online just two days after evacuating students in the dark of a February morning. "Mriia is not just about marks, it’s about connection," said headteacher Olena Seliutina, recalling the scramble to keep displaced students learning, whether under shelling, abroad, or on the move. In the tiny mountain village of Kryvopillya, teachers who once spent evenings handwriting lesson plans now generate reports in seconds, finally making it home before dark. And for Daria, a displaced student from occupied Enerhodar, Mriia is a lifeline, helping her keep up with studies and pursue her dream of attending Kyiv University.
Ukraine’s ambitions for Mriia don’t stop at survival. By 2026, the platform aims to create a seamless digital path from preschool through school, incorporating over 7,000 extracurricular activities nationwide and beginning to integrate universities. Artificial intelligence will soon personalize each student’s learning trajectory, while gamification—like earning "mriiky" points for good performance—brings some much-needed joy and motivation to children living through war.
Security and privacy are paramount, with encrypted chats powered by Signal, ISO/IEC 27001 certification, and integration with Ukraine’s education registry. But trust isn’t just technical—it’s human. Every school that joins Mriia does so voluntarily, receiving dedicated training and support. This matters in a time when, according to 2024 surveys, 80% of teachers report increased anxiety and up to 45% see students struggling to concentrate.
Teachers are feeling the strain. Educational ombudsman Nadiia Leshchyk, as reported by UNN, highlighted the results of a special study conducted for the fifth Summit of First Ladies and Gentlemen. An online survey of 1,067 Ukrainian students aged 15-17, along with 16 focus groups of parents and teachers, revealed that 58% of schoolchildren see the ability to provide support in difficult moments as the most important quality in a teacher during wartime. Another 37% consider a teacher who supports and respects students to be ideal.
Yet, the burden on educators is immense. Low salaries, heavy workloads, and relentless bureaucracy have left many exhausted. Teachers are adapting lessons to mixed formats, sometimes even holding classes in shelters. The emotional toll is mounting, as children need more support, motivation, and reassurance than ever before. “To support students, an educator must have a reserve of internal resources and develop psychological resilience. However, this can be difficult in conditions of overload, energy depletion, and insufficient support,” Leshchyk observed, calling for reduced workloads and greater academic freedom for teachers.
Higher education faces its own set of wartime challenges. The full-scale invasion unleashed a demographic crisis, with students fleeing abroad and state funding shifting to the war effort. Yet, in the city of Zhytomyr, one university has bucked the trend. Zhytomyr Polytechnic State University, led by Rector Viktor Yevdokymov since 2016, has not just survived—it has grown.
“There are currently more than 200 universities in the country. Given demographic risks and the impact of the war – with so many young people having left – we need to recognize a hard truth: no national budget can sustain financing such a large number of institutions,” Yevdokymov told the Milwaukee Independent. The government’s new rules now allow men aged 18 to 22 to travel abroad, aiming to reduce the exodus of students. Still, many universities face the prospect of too few students and not enough funding to survive.
Zhytomyr Polytechnic’s transformation has been fueled by support from businessman Hennadiy Butkevych and the BGV Group. Their backing has expanded programs, revitalized research, and strengthened ties to local industry. Scholarships open more doors for students, while the university’s partnership with the city’s football club, Polissya Zhytomyr, has become a symbol of civic revival. "This is a true example of how business and the academic community are joining forces for the development of science, education, and young talent," Yevdokymov wrote on Facebook.
The university’s labs are buzzing with innovation. Student teams have launched startups, created smart training devices for the football club, and participated in hackathons and mobility programs. The government’s new Science City framework, announced by First Deputy Prime Minister Mykhailo Fedorov, aims to unite universities, businesses, and the state in shared innovation hubs. Zhytomyr Polytechnic is among the first pilots, working on energy solutions and R&D projects that support both the war effort and Ukraine’s future economy.
The war has also reshaped the university’s social mission. The Center for Veteran Development, led by war veteran Andrii Brodskyi, is tackling the stigma of PTSD and the urgent need for psychological rehabilitation among returning soldiers. "Many veterans say, ‘PTSD is for the weak. I don’t have it.’ But later they realize they do need psychological help," Brodskyi noted. Nataliia Kharitonova, head of the university’s PsyLab, emphasized the importance of long-term, multidisciplinary therapy for veterans and their families, drawing on partnerships with Polish and American colleagues.
Meanwhile, the university is expanding into high-demand fields like biomedical engineering, where students are recruited by hospitals and labs even before graduation. Western partners have taken notice, with Douglas Davis, assistant professor at the Medical College of Wisconsin, praising Yevdokymov’s leadership and vision for harnessing the region’s resources for Ukraine’s civil society and technological innovation.
President Volodymyr Zelenskyy himself presented the Mriia app on the Day of Knowledge, September 1, 2025, underscoring the national commitment to education as infrastructure—on par with electricity or healthcare. As Ukraine’s schools and universities adapt, innovate, and support both students and teachers through war, they are building resilience not just for today, but for generations to come.
