The Cards

Russian President Vladimir Putin has always been a paranoid man. We know, for example, that he has long eschewed the use of a personal cellphone, all too aware of how easily they can be tracked.

Yet a Kremlin document recently leaked to the press by a European intelligence service lays bare a whole new level of suspicion. Visitors can only approach him after they’ve gone through two layers of screening. His bodyguards now exercise full control over his schedule of appearances; they’ve essentially eliminated visits to any location that has to do with the military. And as for mobile phones: No one who works near Putin is now allowed to have one—they can only carry devices that aren’t connected to the internet. Surveillance systems have been placed in the homes of the cooks, drivers, and cleaners who work for him; they are prohibited from using public transportation. Most revealingly, he and his family members no longer live in their customary residences. Instead, they are sticking to secret locations with extra layers of protection. The document claims that Putin now works only in bunkers dispersed around southern Russia.

It is possible, of course, that the spies who passed this document along to the media are playing a game of their own—perhaps using disinformation to sow dissension and mistrust within the Kremlin. But the details revealed by the leak make perfect sense given the constraints that Putin suddenly finds himself facing.

In January, U.S. forces succeeded in snatching Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro out of his compound without suffering a single fatality. At the end of February, the Israelis killed Iranian Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei on the first day of the war against Iran—and a host of other top Iranian leaders as well. Nor was it the first time that they were able to finger individual targets in Tehran. The Americans and Israelis have pulled off these operations through a combination of carefully cultivated human sources and signals intelligence, tracking the cellphone calls and internet use not just of the people targeted but also of their aides, guards, and support staffs. All this means that dictators can no longer sleep as easily as they used to.

The former head of Ukrainian military intelligence, Kyrylo Budanov—now chief of staff to President Volodymyr Zelensky—is known to be a student of Israeli targeted killings. His studies have paid off: The Ukrainians have assassinated a string of Russian military officers, politicians, and propagandists—some of them in the heart of Moscow.

In December, a car bomb in the capital took out Lt. Gen. Fanil Sarvarov. That particular hit seems to have sent a collective shiver through Russia’s power elite, allegedly—according to that leaked document—prompting a meeting of top security officials that had them blaming each other for lapses real and imagined. Given that Russia has repeatedly attempted to assassinate Zelensky, Putin has every reason to believe that he, too, has a target on his back.

Putin may well fear internal enemies as much as he does the Ukrainians; rumors of coup plots are rampant in Moscow. But the Russian president’s problems are actually bigger than that. He’s managed to stay in power for 26 years by always keeping a few steps ahead of his enemies. Now he may be running out of room to maneuver.

A Russian offensive planned for this spring has been derailed before it’s gotten off the ground. The Ukrainians claim to have inflicted 35,000 casualties on the Russians in March alone—the fifth straight month, according to Kyiv, that the number of Russians killed and seriously wounded has exceeded the Kremlin’s rate of recruiting fresh soldiers. Perhaps more importantly, the sacrifices of those soldiers were entirely in vain; no major objectives were achieved. “Ukraine is not just doing better than expected,” said Michael Kofman, a senior fellow at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. “Time is not on Russia’s side in this war.”

Indeed, the Ukrainians have now actually pushed the Russians back along several stretches of the front. Putin’s military leaders appear to have no new ideas on how to alter the fundamental dynamic on the battlefield. Unless they can change that, throwing fresh manpower into the fight will prove equally fruitless.

The Ukrainians, by contrast, seem to have an endless supply of new ideas. Every day brings the unveiling of some startling new piece of technology or creative use of an old one. Every day also brings news of another audacious strike deep in the Russian heartland. On April 25, for example, Ukrainian drones hit a Russian airfield in the southern Urals city of Chelyabinsk—a little more than 1,100 miles away from Ukraine.

Kyiv’s forces have devoted considerable resources to eliminating Russian air defenses, which now simply aren’t sufficient to protect every strategic target. At one point a few weeks ago, the threat of Ukrainian attacks closed all four of Moscow’s international airports at the same time. Indeed, the growing range of Ukrainian strikes appears to have influenced the Kremlin’s decision to exclude military equipment from taking part in Victory Day celebrations on May 9. Humiliatingly, Putin even felt compelled to ask U.S. President Donald Trump to dissuade the Ukrainians from attacking during the parade. The Russians are clearly rattled.

Yet Kyiv is not staging such strikes for the sake of psychological impact. The evidence suggests that Ukrainian planners are thinking harder than ever about how to maximize the impact of their attacks. At the end of April, a Ukrainian long-range drone attack on an oil refinery in Perm, more than 900 miles away from the border, targeted distillation columns—the systems that enable the separation of crude oil into gasoline and other petroleum products. Hitting storage tanks provides spectacular footage of fires, but they are relatively easy to repair; core infrastructure like these columns is a different matter altogether. “The Ukrainians have developed a theory of victory which involves the destruction of Russia’s oil and gas infrastructure,” said Ben Hodges, a former commander of the U.S. Army in Europe. “Without that, it becomes very difficult for Russia to sustain what they’re doing.”

At the end of March, a Reuters analysis concluded that the strike campaign had succeeded in cutting Russia’s oil export capacity by 40 percent. Admittedly, this may not be enough to fully offset the windfall that Moscow has gained from the sharp rise in global oil prices unleashed by the U.S.-Israeli war against Iran. Even so, in the first quarter of this year, Russia’s budget deficit already exceeded its full-year target. Financial officials cited a 45 percent drop in oil and gas revenues.

This pattern of smart targeting repeats itself across industries. In their attacks on chemical plants, semiconductor fabrication facilities, and steel factories, the Ukrainians keep hitting core components of the industrial processes that feed Russia’s military machine. Strikingly, the Russians seem incapable of paying back Ukraine in the same coin.

The decentralization of Ukraine’s military production—scattered across myriad small factories in inconspicuous locations—is making it extremely hard for the Russians to find effective targets. So they keep attacking power plants and civilians, cruel tactics that may actually serve to stiffen Ukrainian spines.

That the momentum has shifted in Ukraine’s favor is also demonstrated by Zelensky’s increasingly confident tone toward the United States. “In my view, Russia played the Americans again—played the president of the United States,” he said recently, commenting on Trump’s policy of allowing Russia to skirt sanctions on oil sales. The days of flattery and appeasement are over.

Of course, Ukraine has plenty of problems. Its embrace of drones is driven in part by its persistent manpower personnel shortages; many Ukrainian men are refusing to join the military. And the government continues to contend with corruption scandals.

Even so, Kyiv is enjoying a boost in its international standing even as Moscow faces new headwinds. The war in Iran has given new diplomatic openings to the Ukrainians, who have been leveraging their anti-drone expertise to find new friends among the monarchies of the Persian Gulf. Trump seems so sufficiently preoccupied with his own war that he is finding fewer opportunities to pressure Kyiv into unfavorable peace deals.

And the recent electoral defeat of Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban has robbed Putin of his most trustworthy friend in the European Union. Orban’s exit has finally enabled the EU to break the deadlock over a long-anticipated $106 billion assistance package to Kyiv. That’s enough to keep the Ukrainians in weaponry for a long time to come—entirely apart from the variety of joint ventures for arms production that they have created with partners across the world.

Just to add insult to injury, Moscow is also in the process of losing one of its vaunted new allies in Africa: The Moscow-supported military government in Mali is losing its fight against Islamist rebels.

Losing Mali won’t be enough to cost Putin his throne. But losing the war in Ukraine certainly could—especially when combined with a stagnant economy, restless oligarchs, and a population riled by the Kremlin’s recent crackdown on the internet. Even Russia’s military bloggers, long the most enthusiastic supporters of the war, are starting to lose faith. “Little by little, the advantage is going to our enemies,” one of them recently wrote. “[T]he enemy is counterattacking, and he is succeeding.” Other Russians may well be coming to the same conclusion.

Source: Christian Caryl, “Vladimir Putin Is Much Weaker Than You Think,” Foreign Policy, 6 May 2026. You can thank for me for depaywalling this article by encouraging your friends, relatives, and colleagues to check out this website. ||||| trr

Members of a military band stand next to a screen broadcasting Russia’s President Vladimir Putin’s address during the Victory Day military parade in Moscow on May 9, 2026. Photo: Igor Ivanko/AFP via Getty Images

Just days after Vladimir Putin secured a ceasefire from U.S. President Donald Trump to hold his Victory Day parade, Russia launched a massive air assault on Ukraine, killing at least 16 people in Kyiv and injuring dozens more.

Hi, my name is Oleksiy Sorokin, deputy chief editor at the Kyiv Independent, and this is the latest issue of our newsletter about Russia.

Today, let’s once again talk about why attempting to reach a peace settlement with Putin is a waste of everyone’s time.

Russian President Putin held his parade. Normally, the event is designed as a grand demonstration of military strength and imperial confidence.

This year, it lasted just 45 minutes.

There were no tanks. No heavy equipment. The atmosphere felt restrained, almost uneasy — less a celebration of victory than an attempt to preserve the illusion of power.

After securing Trump’s support for a ceasefire that would effectively ensure Ukraine would not exploit Russia’s weakened air defenses on a day of deep symbolic importance, Putin adopted a different tone regarding the war in Ukraine.

“I think (the war in Ukraine) is coming to an end,” Putin said on May 9. He steered clear of many of the triumphalist themes that have long dominated his public rhetoric. In a somewhat amusing shift, Putin referred to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky as “Mr. Zelensky” for what may have been the first time in years.

Putin had typically resorted to labeling Ukrainian leadership “Nazi sympathizers” or “drug addicts.”

Yet, the three-day-long ceasefire ended, and Russia once again pummeled Ukraine with missiles and drones. The partly collapsed residential building in one of Kyiv’s neighborhoods, with bodies being pulled from under the rubble, became the glaring illustration of Russia’s intent for peace.

What this episode demonstrated, once again, is that Putin treats negotiations not as a path to peace, but as a weapon of war.

Every pause is used to regroup. Every phone call with Western leaders is presented domestically as proof that Russia cannot be isolated. Every public discussion about concessions reinforces the Kremlin’s core belief that time remains on its side.

This is why attempts to “bring Russia to the table” under current conditions do not bring the war closer to an end — rather, they prolong it.

The logic in the White House still seems to be that if Russia is offered enough diplomatic offramps, enough recognition, enough patience, it may eventually choose compromise over continued aggression. But the past four years have shown the opposite. Russia escalates when it senses hesitation. It hardens its demands when it sees fear of escalation on the other side. And it interprets calls for immediate negotiations not as signs of strength or pragmatism, but as exhaustion.

For Putin, the war has never been only about territory. It is about restoring Russian dominance over Ukraine. Russian demands have remained maximalist. Despite mounting military and economic strain, Putin hasn’t moved one inch.

Negotiations, when offered before Russia faces undeniable military, economic, or political pressure, only invite the Russian leader to repeat his maximalist wants.

Ukraine did secure something in return for agreeing to a three-day ceasefire: If everything goes according to plan, a 1,000-for-1,000 prisoner exchange between Ukraine and Russia will take place on May 15.

That alone justifies allowing Putin to hold his parade. If the price of letting Putin stage a carefully choreographed 45-minute parade was bringing 1,000 Ukrainian prisoners home, that is a trade most Ukrainians would take every time.

But it would be a mistake to confuse this with progress toward peace, or a hint that Russia’s attitude toward Ukraine or the West has changed.

Putin’s comments about the war’s nearing end are domestic messaging to assure the public that everything is going according to plan. It does not, but Putin won’t budge.

At this point, negotiations with the Kremlin often resemble a very specific genre of political theater.

And yet, much of the international discussion continues to revolve around finding the right formula, the right incentive, the right “off-ramp” that will finally persuade Putin to stop the war he chose to start.

There is no indication that the Kremlin is currently prepared to accept a settlement that falls short of its broader wartime objectives. Until Russia faces costs that outweigh those ambitions, negotiations are more likely to drag out the war than bring it to an end.

Source: Oleksiy Sorokin, WTF is wrong with Russia? newsletter (Kyiv Independent), 14 May 2026

Russia launched one of the longest and most massive air attacks since the start of its full-scale invasion just days after the recent ceasefire expired.

Over the course of 30 hours, Russia launched more than 1,500 drones at Ukrainian cities, along with over 50 ballistic and cruise missiles, Zelenskyy said.

*An approximate map of the May 13–14 Russian strikes on Ukraine, from the Telegram monitoring channel @StrategicaviationT.*

After a drone strike on the capital, part of a high-rise apartment building collapsed in Kyiv, and rescuers recovered the body of a 12-year-old girl from the rubble.

“We live in a building across the road,” said Olesia Holub-Korba, a Kyiv resident who was just meters from the high-rise last night.

Olesia typically does not go to the shelter during air raids because she [has] to keep running up and down from the 20th floor at night with her young son.

“I always go and lie down in bed with my child so that if there are any falling fragments, I can cover them with my body, and if it’s a missile, then either we survive together, or we…[die],” she told The Counteroffensive.

Olesia and her family had just gone to bed, not yet asleep, when a very loud explosion sounded. Lying on the floor, she literally felt the building shaking.

“Fuck,” she said to her husband, “it’s a direct hit on us.” Olesia’s husband reassured her that it nothing had hit their building, at least not yet.

Fortunately, her family is safe.

However, twenty people from the damaged residential building are still considered missing from the building, which has a completely destroyed entrance, which prevents survivors inside from escaping. Emergency services continue search operations under the debris, which will apparently last into the night.

On the first day of last week’s ceasefire, Putin told reporters that he thinks the war is “coming to an end.”

Zelenskyy responded: “These are certainly not the actions of those who believe the war is coming to an end.”

Government-funded Ukrainian news organization United24 reported that this was the longest and largest aerial attack since the start of the full-scale invasion, though that superlative could not be independently verified by The Counteroffensive. The assault ended on the morning of May 14.

97 percent of the drones launched toward Ukraine were neutralized, according to a report from the Ukrainian Air Force, as were 73 percent of missiles.

Although the vast majority of air targets were successfully downed, Russia damaged around 180 buildings, including 50 residential buildings across Ukraine. In Kyiv, at least five people were killed and dozens more injured. Over 100 people have been injured across the country.

Russia has changed its tactics and is now deliberately trying to stretch out attacks in order to exhaust Ukraine’s air defenses. During the day, Russia sent hundreds of attack drones mainly to the west of Ukraine to exhaust the air defense. In the late evening, there was a second wave of strikes, followed by missiles, targeting the capital.

Russia’s Defense Ministry described the strike as a “massive retaliatory attack” for recent Ukrainian long-range strikes inside Russia.

Zelenskyy stated that there will be a “fair” response to that.

The massive attacks come just days after a decree from Zelenskyy effectively ‘allowed’ Putin to host his WWII Victory Day Parade in Moscow’s Red Square, though the celebration was scaled down, likely due to fear of Ukraine’s long-range strike capabilities. Putin’s anxiety over the annual event signaled a shift in Moscow’s projection of power.

On May 8, Trump announced the 3-day ceasefire, and both Putin and Zelenskyy agreed to its terms, which included a 1,000 for 1,000 prisoner swap.

That ceasefire, though fragile as ever on the front lines with both sides alleging a breach, technically expired on Tuesday, May 12, marked by a mutual exchange of fire.

Over the course of the past week, Putin and Trump — the latter of whom campaigned on a promise to end this war in 24 hours — both said they think the war will end soon during the days leading up to last night’s attacks.

Also, for the first time ever, Putin said he is prepared to meet with Zelenskyy in a third country, outside of Moscow, but only in pursuit of a final agreement that ends the war.

Source: Mariana Lastovyria and Jacqueline Cole, “NEWSFLASH: Putin launches massive attacks after signaling war’s end,” The Counteroffensive, 14 May 2026. You can thank for me for depaywalling this article by encouraging your friends, relatives, and colleagues to check out this website. ||||| trr

Stand with Ukraine Through Darkness

As temperatures in Kyiv plunged to -20°C (-4°F), Russia intensified its attacks on Ukraine’s energy infrastructure, leaving millions in total darkness and biting cold. Though Russia has tried this strategy before, this winter is different. The scale and relentlessness of these attacks have reached unprecedented levels. Many Ukrainians are now forced to survive winter without steady heat, without light, without the basic infrastructure that makes normal life possible.

• “As Russia tries to freeze Ukrainians to submission, families try everything to stay warm”
• “‘The situation now is the worst’ — Kyiv’s energy crisis deepens after Russia pounds power grid”

The reality behind the headlines

While this crisis unfolds, international coverage has been limited. We want you to see what’s actually happening on the ground.

Our journalists are reporting these stories while living them — and so is everyone else in Kyiv, rushing to charge phones during brief power windows, cooking on camping stoves in their kitchens, huddling under blankets in apartments that feel like freezers. For the elderly, it’s worse. When elevators stop working, they are stuck in their own homes, unable to reach food or medical care. What was occasional last winter is now constant.

To light the darkness

Building on our “I Stand with Ukraine” T-shirt, we’re launching I Stand with Ukraine Through Darkness — available as a T-shirt and hoodie.

From January 20 through February 3, all proceeds from this collection go to supporting the charitable organization Starenki, which helps older people living in vulnerable situations.

This winter Starenki’s volunteers provide a lifeline by:

Delivering essentials — Food and hygiene kits for older people, especially those who are physically unable to navigate stairs to reach shops. When high-rise buildings are left without power, elevators become inoperable — effectively trapping seniors in their apartments.

Providing emotional aid — Companionship and conversation to combat the profound isolation that comes with darkness.

SHOP I STAND WITH UKRAINE THROUGH DARKNESS

Why this matters now

As Ukraine enters its fourth winter of war, international attention is fading. The reality of these freezing blackouts is slipping from the headlines.

By wearing this design, you do more than help support the elderly in Ukraine — you raise awareness of the situation and keep Ukraine from slipping from the world’s attention.

Share this. Wear this. Spread the word.

Source: The Kyiv Independent Store email newsletter, 20 January 2026. I have purchased one of these t-shirts and would urge you to do so as well. ||||| TRR

[Editor’s note: On January 21, Kyiv’s Mayor, Vitali Klitschko, urged the city’s inhabitants to “leave if you can.” 600,000 have already left these last two weeks since Russia intensified its attack on the city’s energy infrastructure. The mayor says that the constant Russian attacks are pushing the city towards “a humanitarian catastrophe.” Temperatures are plunging to as low as –18°C (0°F). According to Klitschko, “the situation is critical with basic services – heating, water, electricity. Right now, 5,600 apartment buildings are without heating.” This morning, President Zelenskiy said that one million people in Kyiv are now without power. The city’s authorities have now have been forced to drain the city’s central heating and water system to prevent pipes from freezing and bursting. A couple of days ago, Ukraine’s Minister of Energy, Denys Shmyhal, said that “there is not a single power plant in Ukraine that has not been hit by the enemy during the war.”]

Today we received this from a dear, long-term friend in Kyiv:

BY OLEKSIY KURKA, resident of Kyiv, works in diplomacy and policymaking

I’ve written about Russian attacks so many times that the words no longer convey any new meaning, muted by repetition. But friends abroad cared to check in with me after last night, so here is an update.

As of this hour, only a fraction of the capital has electricity. I’ve been without power for about 24 hours now; others for much longer. It isn’t clear when it might return.

The heating is also off. The building is gradually cooling down. Soon I’ll be breathing out vapour, like some of my friends. Those living through ‘no-heat’ situations for longer – such as those near the front lines – are now camping out in their flats. It’s 5-7°C warmer inside a tent inside your flat.

The attack caused massive disruptions to public transport. Segments of the Metro I use to commute were closed due to electricity shortages. Many, myself included, had to stay and work from home.

My portable power station is gradually running out. Not having a predictable source of power is beginning to worry me more. I can predict one thing: our foes will stop at nothing to inflict more suffering on Ukrainians – while they can.

On a brighter note, I found and successfully installed a solution to the lack of internet at home. It’s an external antenna that catches and amplifies signals from nearby towers. Even during prolonged outages, I have about 15-20 Mbps, which is brilliant.

As for the power, I was inspired by my neighbour who took a mini petrol generator out to the courtyard and recharged his upper-floor flat via an extension lead. Now I fancy having the same system – and solar panels, for when there’s more daylight. Anything that minimises energy dependence is a win.

I went for a walk on the slippery, ice-clad streets of my district in an off-grid darkness that once again revealed the starred heavens. Most businesses and shops are running off generators, their light bulbs making up for the absence of proper street lights, coupled with the headlights from cars. This is how we see. That, and the torches in our hands.

Earlier today, we chatted with a visiting colleague who asked many questions about life these days. I made the point that a war of attrition forces things upon you that you’d otherwise never have thought you’d need.

But when it happens a few times, you spot the trend and start thinking even more creatively about what is yet to come. Do I need to consider satellite internet now, or are the mobile towers maintained well enough for me to avoid rushed decisions and unnecessary costs? Thinking ahead and learning from others makes the unpredictability a tiny bit more predictable, as it were.

Do I plan to leave Kyiv because of these ‘inconveniences’? I said a long time ago that there are two conditions for me to make such a significant decision: when there is no drinking water, and when the prospect of Russian occupation looms larger.

The first is not yet a reality for Kyiv, and I hope it never will be. The latter is no longer a reality, thanks to the Ukrainian army and our partners who provide Ukraine with air defence, long-range, and other weapon systems.

One more thing: Even if I leave the place, it’s only to come back.

Source: “#blackoutnotes [Ukraine],” Two Grumpy Old Men on Ukraine, 21 January 2026

The sun floods the room like a Christmas postcard: snow-covered trees, silence, a fairy tale.

But it ends at the windowpane.

I stand in the middle of the room in two sweaters and a robe, clutching a cup of hot tea as if it could save me. The thermometer indoors reads +9°C (48°F). It’s the third day without heat, and every hour the cold settles deeper into the walls.

In my arms is my six-month-old son, Ustym. I hold him tighter than I should, trying to give him my warmth. And suddenly it hits me: I don’t know how to protect him from the cold.

I can endure it. He can’t.

I cry quietly so he won’t hear. The tears on my sleeve are warmer than the air in the room.

I pack to leave the city.

There, the power may go out—but there is warmth. What a strange word now. A luxury. A reason to flee your own home.

I thought this fear was mine alone. But when I wrote to my colleague Nastia, I realized the cold does not discriminate. She has no child, but the same thermometer, the same сold walls, and made the same decision to leave.

As a result of Russia’s prolonged strikes on Ukraine’s energy infrastructure, including power plants and substations, large parts of Kyiv were left without heating for several days as temperatures dropped to –15°C — the lowest in recent years. During the January 9 attacks, damage to the power grid led to heating outages in approximately 6,000 apartment buildings, nearly half of the city, demonstrating how winter has become yet another front in the war.

Kyiv Mayor Vitalii Klitschko called the situation the most difficult for the capital since the start of the full-scale invasion and urged residents to temporarily leave the city, despite the opening of hundreds of heating centers. 600,000 Kyivans have fled the capital since January 9. For many, leaving the city is no longer a matter of comfort but one of survival.

It is a reminder that in times of war, even a major city can turn perilous overnight, and true security depends not only on the absence of missiles but on access to basic needs like heat, electricity, and water.

Our apartments turned into cold traps we had to escape. We came together to share this strange, frightening feeling, when every minute at home feels like a test, and survival becomes a daily struggle.

Nastia: On the night before the major strike that left us without heat, January 8, I took a hot shower for the first time in a week and had uninterrupted electricity for the whole evening.

Restoration work on hot water and heating had been underway in my building before, we always had problems with heating and water.

I felt like a human being again — someone who, after work, can properly warm up in the shower, instead of heating up a kettle 5 times.

After the attack, I was back to not having water, heating and electricity. When I woke up under two blankets I felt powerless again: I already knew I would cancel the plans I had that evening because of how exhausted I felt.

I didn’t even try to catch the internet in my apartment, because I knew I’d fail. I just washed my face under freezing water and went to the cafe nearby to work.

Later I was riding the metro and barely held back tears. Not even because of the cold, but because I would yet again have to spend my evening in a dark apartment all alone. Such evenings just gnaw at me, creating a deep sense of isolation. I know that when I set foot in the apartment nothing will be waiting for me there, except darkness, silence, and piercing cold.

“Please, come home. Don’t be there alone in the cold,” my parents told me. My dad suggested I go with his friend, who was also planning to leave Kyiv on January 9. I was hesitant at first: I had friends, plans, and work to do. But if I had been able to find ways to function with blackouts and distract myself before, this time I just couldn’t find the strength to bear it.

Myroslava: During the latest Russian attack on Friday, January 9, we immediately lost both electricity and heat. The boiler in the building runs on electricity, so it was clear that if there’s no power, there won’t be heat either.

At first I was calm; this was not the first time, and we’d get through it. But then Mayor Klitschko urged people to leave the city for the weekend, and that was alarming. The apartment was getting colder and colder.

My husband and I decided to go to his parents’ village to wait it out for the weekend, hoping that heat would return soon. On Sunday evening, we returned to Kyiv: heating had already come back in parts of the city. But not in ours. In the morning I took Ustym to my parents, where it was warmer, and went to work.

I dressed him in layers and held him close to share my warmth.

He seemed fine. It was I and even more so his grandparents who were truly scared.

I knew that we would only leave the Kyiv apartment at the most critical moment, when we had no strength left to endure. That’s exactly what happened on the last two nights–not only because my son woke up frequently, but also because of the cold, in which it was impossible to sleep. I was in warm pajamas, under a duvet and three blankets, surrounded by cats – and it still didn’t help.

I left for the Kyiv region on January 13th for my in-laws’ house, which has its own heating. The situation was so bad I couldn’t even wait for my husband to finish work. The frost had turned the roads into solid ice, and with darkness falling early, driving was dangerous. So my father-in-law drove out to pick up Ustym and me.

Nastia: As I was leaving Kyiv it was darker than usual – the blackouts had taken over the capital. Sorrow and the shame of leaving my own home kept me quiet and bitter in the taxi, but it changed when I met with my dad’s army friend; he cheered me up with conversations about life. The roads were covered with ice and snow.

That evening I got a message from my friend.

“I’ve never regretted more… the day I moved to Kyiv,” she said with an exhausted voice.

I often thought the same, but with the same thoughts I realized it was the best decision – it’s the city where I met most of my great friends, found work I love, and made plenty of great memories I want to keep until my last day.

For now I have to witness it from social media and news, or from my friends’ messages.

Energy workers are active around the clock. And they have been working under tremendous pressure for months. The brutal weather makes it much more difficult – just imagine working in the frost night and day, breaking through snow and ice to repair something, while Russia continues destroying more and more facilities.

DTEK, the country’s biggest private energy firm, posted on Threads: “It’s really difficult for us now. The damage from new big shellings is very serious. This was compounded by the severe weather we could all see outside our windows — the harshest winter in many years.”

Myroslava: The thought that we had to leave Kyiv hurts the most; it breaks me from the inside. I always saw the capital as a fortress, a place that must hold out under any conditions. In 2022, many Ukrainians stayed here even when the Russians stood on the outskirts of the city, because they believed Kyiv would be defended to the end. Now people are leaving not because of a military offensive, but because of the weather.

This is exactly what Russia wants – to make Kyiv unlivable, to break Ukrainians’ morale and force concessions. And they’re partially succeeding: home has stopped being a safe place.

That’s why visiting stores have become one of the most painful things for me. Supermarkets are a kind of marker of stability, an indication that tomorrow will still come. When they are open, it feels like life is still holding on.

But a few days ago, I saw a message that supermarkets in Kyiv were starting to close, including one near my home.

*The store is closed, and a sign to that effect hangs on the entrance, Kyiv, January 13th, 2026*

It stayed open at the start of the war, through heat, cold, and the blackouts of 2023.

And this time, it didn’t survive.

Nastіa: Leaving was difficult not only because it carried a sense of shame for giving up and escaping, while my friends and lots of other people had to stay and endure the cold.

But also it was hard to walk away from the places I love, not knowing how soon I’d be able to return. I don’t know how my apartment is now, or my favorite cafés and stores where I could go from my dark apartment to recharge my phone a bit.

I didn’t spend much time in the cold and blackouts after the latest attack, but it didn’t take long to feel its full effects. I was barely able to get myself out of bed; the indoor temperature had already plunged to about +10°C / 50°F.

And the rest of the time I spent dragging bottled water from the shop to clean up and take a shower before I could leave. At that point, I had no running water at all.

Myroslava: I miss my husband terribly, as he stayed in our Kyiv apartment. He works in Kyiv, and with this weather, regular trips aren’t realistic.

We’ve always done everything together, and now it feels like I’m without my main support. We text each other constantly. I send him photos of Ustym, and we wish each other good morning every day, trying to keep that closeness alive.

He has to keep the bathroom warm so the pipes don’t burst, otherwise the whole building could lose heat for the rest of winter. At –15°C outside, it’s frightening. He uses whatever he can: an oil radiator when there’s electricity, a gas heater when there isn’t.

Our cats, Stuhna and Sherri, stayed in the apartment. I constantly worry that they are cold, curling up and searching for any bit of warmth. They need to be fed and given water, and the rooms need to be kept warm. Every time I think about them, my heart tightens, because I left and they stayed behind.

The war has torn families apart on so many levels, and not just on the front lines. This winter brings a painful new wave of uncertainty and separation – endured not because people are giving up, but because they are forced to protect what matters most.

Editor’s note: The Counteroffensive team will continue to report from Kyiv, but we support any member of their team that wants to go back to their hometowns to be with their families. We also offered to take any member of the team to Warsaw for a week, at least until this blows over. They all refused to leave their country. I hope this shows, in some small sense, the grit, determination and courage of the small team I’m privileged to lead.

Source: Myroslava Tanska-Vikulova and Anatasiia Kryvoruchenko, “Why Myroslava, Nastia left Kyiv,” The Counteroffensive with Tim Mak, 21 January 2026. I am a paid subscriber to this publication and I would suggest that you subscribe to it too. ||||| TRR