The lasting scars of war on the children who survive it

A teddy bear and child’s swing buried in rubble are some of the relics of war that remind us: soldiers aren’t the only casualties of conflict.

I grew up in Sarajevo, a city that endured one of the longest sieges in modern history. The war began when I was seven, and my memories of that time are a mix of fear, resilience and fleeting moments of joy. 

I vividly remember hiding from grenades, the echo of shelling in the distance and the scarcity of food. Yet, amidst it all, there was community and hope.

One of my most cherished memories is tied to a small building in my neighborhood that now houses the War Childhood Museum. 

Back then, it was a gathering place for children during New Year’s Eve, where we received small presents — a cookie or something simple that felt magical in a time of great scarcity. Today, that building has become a global platform for preserving and sharing the voices of children who have endured the trauma of war.

The War Childhood Museum is not just a repository of memories; it is a living archive dedicated to highlighting the resilience of children in war. With a collection spanning more than 20 conflicts and personal items that include diaries, toys, schoolbags and everyday objects, the museum aims to tell the stories that might otherwise be forgotten. Its founder, Jasminko Halilovic, grew up during the siege of Sarajevo.

He realized that while the narratives of soldiers and politicians dominate the history books, the voices of children — the most vulnerable witnesses of conflict — are often left out.

The haunting memories of war

Halilovic set out to change that by writing the book “Childhood in War,” a groundbreaking project that compiled over 1,000 testimonies from individuals who were children during the war in Bosnia. Each story represents a fragment of a larger mosaic that captures the complexity of childhood in conflict. One particularly haunting testimonial from the book reads:

“I didn’t want to go into the basement anymore. It was too crowded, too dark. My mother told me I was brave and that I could stay in the living room. When the windows shattered from the blast, I was more worried about my mother’s disappointment than the shards of glass.”

His journey from author to museum director is a testament to the power of storytelling.

“My decision to create the War Childhood Museum stemmed more from my work on the book ‘Childhood in War’ than from my personal war experience,” Halilovic said. “However, I don’t deny that my memories, at least subconsciously, played a role.” 

He realized that the collective memory of the war seemed to lack the perspective of the children who lived through it — his generation. 

“Writing the book illuminated the urgent need to record and share these untold stories, which is why I decided to establish an institution dedicated to this mission,” Halilovic said. “My own war memories, such as my first day of school, the death of my first childhood crush and the birth of my sister, shaped who I am and remain a driving force behind my work.”

Collecting the experiences of children

The raw, poignant accounts in the book lay the foundation for the museum’s collection. The items on display at the War Childhood Museum tell similar stories — of fear, resilience and fleeting moments of normalcy. A school bag carried by a child fleeing violence, a handmade doll crafted in a refugee camp and a diary with its pages filled with longing and questions all bring to life the lived realities of war’s youngest victims.

“When I began gathering memories for the book, I didn’t realize how emotionally challenging it would be,” Halilovic said. “Constant exposure to such heavy topics and harrowing stories leaves a mark. That’s why we now have mechanisms to protect our staff who work closely with sensitive materials. In the early days, I remember many moments when a story or object deeply moved me. Over time, you develop coping mechanisms, but even now, I occasionally encounter a new exhibit or story that strikes me just as profoundly as it might a visitor.”

One of the most striking objects in the museum is a child’s drawing of a flower, which seems innocent at first glance. Upon closer inspection, you notice a tank etched into the background, blending almost unnoticed into the scenery. It is a chilling reminder of how war becomes a backdrop to daily life for children who have no choice but to adapt.

The process of collecting these items was not only emotional but also logistically complex. Museum staff often work in challenging conditions, sometimes in active conflict zones, to document and preserve these stories. The team’s efforts have resulted in one of the world’s most comprehensive collections of children’s wartime experiences.

Halilovic said that after the first book promotion, he worried how it would be received.

“That night, I saw a Facebook post from one of the contributors whose memory was published,” he said. “They wrote, ‘I’ve been flipping through the book for an hour, looking for my memory. I haven’t found it yet, but I’ve found so many of my memories.’ That comment perfectly encapsulates the essence of the project: while each story is unique, many resonate universally, reflecting the shared experiences of a generation.”

The universality of war

This universality is what makes the museum’s mission so powerful. By bringing together stories from more than 20 conflicts around the world in Bosnia, Ukraine, Palestine, Syria, Afghanistan and others, the museum highlights both the shared and unique aspects of children’s experiences in war.

“Analyzing these materials reveals both specific and universal aspects of war,” Halilovic said. “For example, refugee experiences often share common fears, challenges and hopes, regardless of the time or place.”

But children’s stories can be a challenge to document in places where access is difficult. “Our collection from Ukraine is extensive because we’ve had an office there since 2020,” he said. “It’s likely the most comprehensive documentation of this war from a child’s perspective.”

In contrast, however, the museum has been only able to collect a few items from Gaza. “Like many organizations, we feel powerless watching these tragedies unfold in real-time,” he said. 

The museum also has a strong educational mission. Through workshops, exhibitions and school programs, it seeks to raise awareness about the impact of war on children while fostering empathy and understanding. Visitors often leave with a renewed sense of urgency about the importance of peacebuilding and advocacy for children’s rights.

“I’ve realized the immense potential of this platform to make a difference,” Halilovic said. “The War Childhood Museum is now the only place in the world where objects from children in Bosnia, Ukraine, Palestine, Afghanistan and beyond stand side by side. This makes it clear to me that there’s no work more important for me to do in my life.”

Andrea Knezevic is the communications specialist for News Decoder’s WePod project. A journalist and university professor with more than a decade of experience honing the art of storytelling and effective communication, she splits her time between Paris and Brussels.