Shrapnel lodged in Hirman’s spine, and he now must use a wheelchair. “Doctors say I may never walk again,” he said.
As Ukraine faces a landmine crisis of unprecedented scale, with explosive remnants of war littering vast stretches of its farmland, villages, and even urban areas, a team from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology is quietly working to help Ukraine clear its lands.
Called the MIT Ukraine program, the initiative formed by alums, students, researchers, startups, and NGOs aims to leverage MIT’s deep strengths in robotics, AI, and sensor technology to support and accelerate demining efforts.
“We knew there is a certain social responsibility for the MIT community to fulfill, and most likely through education, learning initiatives, and things MIT does well,” Phil Tinn, research adviser to the program, told the Globe.
He said the team got engaged with demining efforts because of the scale of the crisis.
Ukraine, known as Europe’s breadbasket, is now the place in the world most contaminated by mines and other related debris since Russia’s full-scale invasion began in February 2022.
More than 54,000 miles of land in Ukraine were reported to be potentially contaminated with mines and so-called explosive remnants of war, or ERWs, such as unexploded bombs, grenades, rockets, or artillery shells, as of late 2024, according to Ukraine’s National Mine Action Authority, which oversees and coordinates mine action. An estimated 6 million people live in areas with a mine/ERW threat.

A total of 1,379 casualties, including 413 deaths, had been caused by mines and explosive ERWs since the start of the war as of December, according to the United Nations in Ukraine.
The HALO Trust, one of the leading demining organizations that operates in 30 countries, has identified at least 13 square miles of contaminated land. They have managed to clear about 3 square miles so far, a spokesperson at HALO told the Globe.
“We’ve already identified over 41,500 mines and explosive items — and we’re only scratching the surface,” she said.
HALO estimates it will take at least 40 years to demine Ukraine.
The actual scale of the landmine crisis could be much bigger as a nationwide survey is not yet completed. The risks of clearance are also high as the war drags on, and more land is being contaminated.
MIT’s role is not to replicate what demining groups like HALO already do — such as manual or mechanical clearance, but to develop tools that can make their work faster and safer.
“Demining is not just a military or humanitarian task. It’s a complex, system-level challenge that tests the limits of modern technology,” Tinn said.
A winter hackathon at MIT this year launched several pilot ideas, and the program is now rolling out student-led research through on-campus projects and summer internships. For example, Tinn said MIT students are building a civilian mine awareness platform where researchers, farmers, and other stakeholders can add maps of areas that are deemed unsafe. The site will also provide information on how to stay safe and avoid the risk of stepping on landmines. It is expected to be released to the public in August, he said.
Students are also testing new methods to combine data from drones, ground sensors, and satellites to identify landmine threats. In partnership with SINTEF, the largest independent research organization in Europe, MIT students are working full time to test a new sensor system for detecting unexploded ordnance buried deep or hidden in dense vegetation.
In June, a group of MIT students began field research in Norway’s Tarva Island, where they collected data on previous firing exercises at the air force’s explosives testing site, using drones and sensors. Tinn said the data will be used for rapid and accurate contamination detention in Ukraine.
“We are also exploring ways to convert retired military drones into low-cost demining tools,” said Tinn.
Back in Ukraine, deminers trained by HALO continue to clear landmines, one farmland at a time.
Switlana Solomentseva, a 36-year-old pharmacist-turned deminer in Kharkiv, said despite the risks, she wants to help her country. She fled to Sweden in the early months of the war to shield her 15-year-old son, Yaraslav, from the conflict.
“But I had to come back to my own country and do something to help,” said Solomentseva, who returned in November 2023 and immediately took up a job with HALO. She operates a remote-controlled demining tractor from a safe minimum distance of 50 yards.
“The job is difficult and dangerous, But, when you find an explosive, you know you have saved someone’s life,” she said.
As for farmers like Hirman, who has only partly cleared his farm, every step carries a risk.
“Accidents happen every week — to a neighbor or a co-worker. And it won’t end soon,” he said.
As collective efforts to clean Ukraine’s farmlands continue, some farmers said they have no choice but to risk their lives to do agricultural work.
“For us, land means life,” Hennadi Morhun, 42, a farmer from Kharkiv, told the Globe. “The war kills people. But it also kills land.”
In February, red warning cloths tied to sticks fluttered in the breeze across from his farm as he examined newly demined areas.
On one side, vast patches of dried, dead land showed the scars of war. On the other side, there were green shoots pushing through freshly tilled soil.
This year, Morhun is planting on his land once again. Only 4 of his 30 acres are usable.
“But it’s a start,” he said.
Dzvinka Pinchuk contributed to this report.
This reporting was supported by the International Women’s Media Foundation’s Women on the Ground: Reporting from Ukraine’s Unseen Frontlines Initiative in partnership with the Howard G. Buffett Foundation.