Kyiv Under Fire

This spring, a Russian missile evaded Ukrainian air defenses and struck a three-story building, killing 13 members of an extended family, with only a young girl surviving after rescue from the wreckage.

Weeks later, the impact site covered an area the size of two tennis courts, reduced to rubble. Every apartment window facing the blast zone remained shattered, now boarded with plywood. parked cars sustained severe damage, their paint scorched. Remarkably, sections of the building still stood, wallpaper intact and fixtures still attached.

Neighbors created a makeshift shrine on a nearby patch of grass, displaying photographs, red plastic flowers, two basketballs with messages of condolence, numerous stuffed toys, and a large plastic water container.

Around the corner on Aviakonstruktorska street, life continued in the soviet-era apartments once occupied by aeronautical engineers working at the Antonov headquarters (creators of the An-225 Mriya, the world’s largest aircraft). Kyiv resembled any other Eastern European city awakening from winter.

The city bloomed in spring, with chestnut trees releasing silken seed pods that drifted like snowflakes with each gust of wind. People continued their routines – rushing to meetings, shopping for groceries, and navigating traffic – all while aware that a missile strike could shatter their lives at any moment.

Russian forces launched hundreds of drones and missiles at Kyiv during my visit, both day and night. While most were intercepted, some penetrated the city’s defenses.

Anatoliy, a resident overlooking the blast zone, described the surreal experience of waking up in a warzone, descending through staircases with broken windows, and passing piles of rubble each morning.