From our special correspondent in Kharkiv – Ukraine's northeastern city of Kharkiv put up a fierce resistance when Moscow's forces launched their full-scale invasion on February 24, 2022. Russian troops eventually withdrew back to their side of the border, 40 kilometres north of Ukraine's second largest city. But one year on, the people of Kharkiv are still living under the constant threat of Russian missile strikes.
It's six o'clock in the evening and Kharkiv is already plunged into darkness. After nightfall, the only sources of light in Ukraine's second largest city are the car headlights and the portable flashlights carried by pedestrians. Streetlights were switched off shortly after the Russian invasion to make it harder for the enemy to pick out targets at nigthtime. Twelve months on, the city's pitch-dark streets remain a symbol of the enduring Russian threat.
"In the life before, I used to enjoy walking in the evening but now I can't because it feels creepy to walk in the dark," says 20-year-old Anastasia, an IT student waiting for a taxi on Sumska Street, one of Kharkiv's main thoroughfares. What used to be a lively shopping spot is now a gloomy street.
"But the main reason I don't feel safe here is not because the streetlights are off. It's because of the Russian strikes," she adds. "We got bombed yesterday, and the day before yesterday, and the day before too. A bomb can fall on your home any time – and then your life is over".
Instilling fear
Our stay in Kharkiv was long enough for a first-hand experience of the ongoing missile threat hanging over the city.
On the morning of February 5, we were suddenly woken up by the sound of loud explosions. Russian S-300 missiles had slammed into a university building located less than 200 metres from our hotel, obliterating the last two floors of the School of Urban Economy.
"There were only four people injured," said Eugeniy Vassilinko, a spokesperson for the emergency services, when we arrived at the scene. "One is the security guard of the university building, which has been empty for a while. The three others are people living in the buildings behind, where the second missile fell."
The S-300 was designed as an anti-aircraft weapon but Russia has been using the missiles as cheaper surface-to-surface missiles. They've been retrofitted with GPS guidance but are still regarded as relatively inaccurate. Their imprecision only increases what appears to be their main objective: instilling fear in the local populace.
The tactic works – to some extent. There are intermittent strikes on industrial, military or economic targets in the city's suburbs, triggering regular air alerts. But the waves of strikes often include one or two missiles thrown at seemingly random targets in the city centre.
To the people of Kharkiv, it feels like a deadly lottery, nurturing a sense of powerlessness and resignation. The locals never seem to run to shelters during air-raid alerts. The only thing Kharkiv residents can do is try to live as normal a life as possible, in an everyday act of defiance.
'People will return'
The missile threat is compounded by the presence of Russian troops just across the border, only 40 kilometres away. Russia has already launched what appears to be the early stage of a spring offensive in the Donbas. The New York Times reported that Moscow could be tempted to open a new front near Kharkiv to force Ukraine to divert military resources.
Locals who stayed in the city during the worst of the Russian onslaught, between February and May last year, say Kharkiv is no longer the ghost town it was then. Some shops have reopened and public transportation works.
Yet in the northern suburb of Saltivka, where the high-rise residential buildings were shelled for months by Russian forces, only a fraction of the initial population returned.
"In my building, there are only 10 appartments out of 45 being occupied right now", says Yuri, who came back to Saltivka in mid-October. "Now we have electricity, heating, and water. But here we are closer to the Russian border so our future remains very uncertain."
Still, most of the people who returned to Saltivka sound upbeat about their city being rebuilt. They include Elena, a former cleaner who now lives on the 2,000 hryvnias (about 50 euros) of welfare she receives each month.
"It's painful to see so much destruction, it will take a while to rebuild," she says. "But if you come back here, you have to be optimistic. I'm sure more people will return in the spring."
