When I went to the Tsetskhladze family to interview them, I did not expect that, in addition to hunger and cold, I would literally have to look death in the eye. One careless step may become the last one, and these words are not just an exaggeration. To get to the hut (it is simply impossible to call this building home), you need to cross the river along some structure made of wood and iron, which is held between the banks by ropes and cords wrapped around a tree. I probably wouldn’t even dare to come close to such a “bridge” if it weren’t for Ninuki and Nika, who were waiting for me and cheering me on

Nino calls this place “the palace”. When you have nowhere to go with your two-year-old son, a roof over your head is both a home and a fortress for you. No matter if this place is completely unsuitable for living. Nino, as if in a nightmare, recalls how she left home with a baby in her arms and lived in a shelter for victims of domestic violence for one year: “Not everyone gets the kind of family he dreams about. Dreams eventually cease to visit you, when you have only one thought in your head – how to feed your child.”

Tea made a living room in a former public WC. One can do anything when he has nowhere to live with his three children. The taxi driver dropped them and their belongings off at night in an empty field near an abandoned building – as she asked – and hurried to leave. They can kill you and stab with a knife in such an abandoned place. And she crossed herself and stepped into this empty, dark building with baby Gabriel, five-year-old Shio, and nine-year-old Tekla.

“Be careful, do not fall – the ambulance won’t be able to come here, and we won’t be able to help you if you fall from here! Hold on to me! ” We overcame the first obstacle. Now you need to climb the stairs, and this is also very dangerous.

“Don’t tell it to my mother, but once my hand sank into there. I wanted to see if a boogeyman really lived there and whistled, or if it was just a crack in the wall. I put my hand in there, and something bit me!” – little Sophia drags me by the hand. She wants to show me some ominous hole in the wall. “But be careful! It can bite you too!”

“If someone tells me that I don’t have a home and I’m a garage boy, I don’t talk to him. Because I’m an ordinary boy, I just live in a garage. I already fought with those who laughed at me. How can anyone who lives in an apartment building make fun of me because I live in a garage?!” asks eight-year-old Rezi. He lives with his sister, mother, and stepfather in the garage. Instead of falling asleep sweetly, he falls asleep to the loud barking of stray dogs, the sounds of fights, and the screams of drunkards. Before going to bed, you need to breathe air in reserve, because there is no window in the garage and it is stuffy in there, like in a torture chamber. And it’s dark and scary, and there’s not a drop of light.