Kharkiv's cruel routine: when the sound of guided aerial bomb strikes becomes all too familiar

There is a commotion on one of the streets of a detached housing neighborhood in Kharkiv. People with worried faces are standing near a gate that was pierced by shrapnel. Some are still sweeping up the remaining glass into buckets. Across the street, utility workers are sawing down the cut trees. A few hours ago, in the afternoon, the Russian troops hit the area with a new modified The UMPB D-30 is a 300 mm caliber glider munition that can be launched by both aircraft and multiple launch rocket systems. In terms of explosive power, it is a cross between an aerial bomb and a rocket.bomb.

The body of a gray passenger car is completely destroyed. Its owner, a man in his 50s, says somewhat distantly: "It was a good car. It's a pity, of course, but the main thing is that everyone at home survived. We are still living..."

His nieces are 15 and 11 years old. They were in the house when the missile struck. The younger one got off with a scare, but the older one was incredibly lucky.

The elder one was sitting in her room. A piece of debris flew near her head and stuck in the wall. And we were in the yard, we heard a whistling sound. I saw it flying. Literally, a quarter of a second later, there was an explosion.Viktor, a resident of Kharkiv

The blast wave tore off the slate roof: it bounced like a toy part and then fell to the same place. Only frames remained of the windows in this and neighboring houses. Within a few hours, they were covered with chipboards.

This is what impresses me about Kharkiv: the way it heals wounds with lightning speed. How it lives in spite of everything: power outages, endless sirens, and daily attacks with ballistic missiles, Shaheds, and guided aerial bombs. This does not make 1.3 million Kharkiv residents panic, let alone leave their city.

 "Where are we to go?"

Maria Illivna is a pensioner who lives next door to Viktor. A loud explosion caught her in the bathroom.

It was so loud! I thought the house was collapsing. Glass shattered. My heart was pounding. I rushed to my [spouse]: "Grandpa, are you alive?" And it was as if I could anticipate it – I had covered him with a blanket almost to the head earlier. He was still lying there, with large pieces of glass on him.Maria Illivna, a resident of Kharkiv

The pensioner rents a house in Kharkiv with her daughter and son-in-law. They themselves are displaced from the border town of Vovchansk, which is being mercilessly shelled by the Russians. They do not know what is left of their property there – two houses and an apartment. The shelling is catching up with them here, but they don't want to go anywhere else: "It's still scary... I don't know how to live here. And to go... where are we to go? Who is expecting us?"

With tears in her eyes, Maria asks if it would be possible to mention in the text how grateful she is to all the services that quickly arrived at the scene.

"God bless them," the tearful woman wipes her tears with her hand, "I hadn't even had time to come to my senses when everyone was here: the ambulance, the police, the firefighters, the psychologists, and the mayor himself. The doctors asked me if I was okay. I said: ‘I’m okay, I took three valerian pills’. I am very grateful to them all. Please write this, if you can."

However, Kharkiv is not merely about strikes. Despite all the troubles, it has its own vibe and its own unique atmosphere. Perceiving the city of one million people only through the news, you are at first a little surprised by the people at the bus stop, mothers with baby strollers in the park, and the heavy traffic on the roads.

Soon you adapt: the sirens, which do not actually stop here, become just a background to life. A life that no one is going to put on pause. It seems that everyone who lives in Kharkiv now loves their city too much to give it up to the war.

to those people who have already decided for themselves that they are staying here," Oleg Synegubov, head of the Kharkiv Oblast Military Administration, told hromadske.

According to Synegubov, there is no panic or reason to evacuate Kharkiv due to frequent threats from Russians about possible attempts to seize the city.

"It takes 30-40 seconds to reach us"

The specifics of living close to the enemy border were experienced firsthand. Sometimes less than a minute passes after the siren goes off, and explosions are heard again.

In fact, it takes 30-40 seconds to reach us. That is if you take S-300 missiles. The enemy is increasingly using guided aerial bombs, modified 300-millimeter guided munitions. But the situation is currently under control.Oleg Synegubov, Head of Kharkiv Oblast Military Administration

The authorities have managed to stabilize the situation with electricity supply. It has been a month since the city experienced a blackout after the most powerful Russian attack on the energy infrastructure. There have been no emergency outages so far. Only scheduled outages. Usually, people are without electricity for two to four hours a day. Our sources say that they have already gotten used to this regime.

"I think we have 70 percent of local businesses, local brands. Whenever something strikes, we all disperse but then reopen. If there is no electricity, everyone has generators, in any coffee shop. Generally speaking, generators and Starlinks are a must-have set," Kharkiv-based photographer and creative director of a video production studio Kyrylo Honchar tells hromadske.

We meet him in the very center of the city, opposite the Derzhprom building, a constructivist monument that is now a symbol of local resistance and the famous phrase "Kharkiv is reinforced concrete." I ask him what other phrase could describe the city.

Kharkiv itself is already a brand. You don't even need to add "reinforced concrete". When you say that you are from Kharkiv, it already means something. Even for yourself.Kyrylo Honchar, a resident of Kharkiv

Kyrylo says that the city is used to attacks. Kharkiv residents no longer see the point in responding to every air raid alert as there are up to 15 a day. People respond if something happens in their neighborhood. The situation is monitored in local Telegram channels.

Attacks with guided aerial bombs have also become commonplace. "When the guided aerial bombs started flying in about a month ago, it was something new, and everyone panicked. But then we realized that it was, let's say, no worse than the S-300 or anything else," recalls Kyrylo Honchar.

Nowadays, guided aerial bombs arrive every day – if not in the city, then outside it, for sure. It's just another 'usual' munition that comes here. Unfortunately, this is already an everyday noise for us.Kyrylo Honchar, from Kharkiv

"Don’t expect us to panic!"

Elderly women read news from a local Telegram channel:

"The moment of the strike at the TV tower. Section falling down".

“What a bastard! I told you it must have been our tower that was shot down. Now we won't have television for a long time.”

Four women sit at the entrance of a destroyed apartment building in North Saltivka neighborhood. They had heard loud explosions before. It has just been confirmed – the Russians hit the Kharkiv TV tower. It is only a few kilometers from their home.

"What will you do without TV?" I ask.

“We will listen to the radio! "The fascists won’t see us panic!" says the bravest of the women, Nadiya Leonidivna.

North Saltivka is a large district, now the most destroyed area of the city, which took the worst hit at the beginning of the full-scale invasion. It is gloomy here even in sunny weather. There are many ghost houses with two-story holes, torn-out balconies, and shattered facades. And still scattered with things: someone's jacket, a chair, a refrigerator... Some buildings have cranes near them - some for reconstruction, some for demolition.

Compared to other districts, there are very few people here. Two things leave the most contrasting mark on your memory: when you suddenly hear the noise of several teenagers playing football on the playground in front of a long-closed school with boarded-up windows; and when you see a woman planting flowers in the yard next to one of the damaged, gloomy apartment buildings.

"Life goes on. I want to leave my home and see something that makes me happy," says Nadiya.

Nadiya returned to her home a year ago. Volunteers helped her install windows: "It is livable." The authorities promised to overhaul the building, but it hasn't happened yet. In total, only five families live in her building. The same number lives in the neighboring one.

Most of us are elderly and sick. Young people have moved as far away from this horror as possible. This place is shelled every day, day and night. And we have nowhere to go: no health, no strength, no money. I'm not going anywhere. It's up to God alone.Nadiya, a resident of Kharkiv  

"Let it be, what it will"

"That's how we live. Let it be what it will," repeats Natalia Hrama, a volunteer who apparently reflects the state of many Kharkiv residents.

Together with a Japanese man, Fuminori Tsuchiko, she opened a free café for residents of the affected Saltivka a year ago. Now the number of people in the café is increasing almost every day.

"When we opened, we had 200-300 people. Now we prepare 1,200 meals a day. We work every day, seven days a week. Most of the visitors are pensioners, and there are also IDPs. Most of all, Fumi is supported by donations from Japan. But it's getting harder," Natalia recalls.

When there is no electricity, they make sandwiches and tea. "Ukrainians will always find a way out," the volunteer laughs.

I listen to the story of a Japanese man who left everything behind and came to help Kharkiv residents. And a woman who has been feeding people since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, and now she is also caring for her husband, who was seriously wounded near Bakhmut. These stories are the personification of Kharkiv's resilience.

"I do this not for fame or money. This is my desire. Even after the victory, I will not stop there, I will continue to help people," says Natalia.

I ask her and Fuminori to go outside for a photo together. An elderly woman approaches the Japanese man with tears in her eyes, hugs him and says quietly: "Thank you."

Kharkiv is free and indomitable. It seems that everyone here has their own war story. Even when you buy flowers from a modest woman on your way from the subway to the tram stop, you may find that they were picked in the garden of a rural dacha that no longer exists. The only thing left in its ruins is a cleared garden and flowers. Flowers that this woman is standing by the subway with in the evening. Unfortunately, she did not want to be photographed. I only have a photo of a bouquet bought from her.