Hope under fire

Iryna Kraievska

Every day in Kyiv begins the same way: listening. If I can’t hear shelling, I work. If it’s not work, it’s the sound of drones. You get used to the sound, but you never get used to what it means. You don’t know if the drone will pass by or hit your building. Even when missiles are intercepted, the danger doesn’t end as the fragments fall everywhere. 

I’ve been at home, in my bed, when explosions have happened nearby. You jump up on instinct, not knowing what to do. After several nights in a row, sometimes you don’t even get up, you are so exhausted that you just pull the blanket over your head and wait. 

A Changed City 

When I first got into my room here at Sunbury Court [at the UK conference], I immediately noted the glass wall. My first reaction was, ‘It’s a danger’, as I know how dangerous glass can be. When it breaks, it can kill you. 

You recognise places that have been hit immediately when you see them online. You remember how, before they were hit, that you used to walk past them in real life all the time. It’s a strange feeling. Physically, I’m fine, but something is wounded inside. This is my city, my district, my community. I walked these streets just days ago. When someone dies during the attack, you think to yourself, ‘It could have been me!’  

During each shelling, my daughter and I message each other. If I hear an explosion near her area, I check immediately. I want to know she is safe. Some nights we hear so many drones passing overhead that we count them and hope we will be lucky. 

From left: the red circle indicates where a drone hit this residential building, about 130 metres from Iryna’s home; a bomb- damaged house; a damaged business centre

Infrastructure is destroyed everywhere. Whole buildings are gone. In older buildings, basements collapse and people are buried underneath. I saw on this morning’s news [2 December 2025], after a strike, dozens were injured and several killed. Sadly, the numbers usually rise during the first days after the attack. Families wait next to collapsed buildings, desperate for news of their loved ones while trying to hold on to hope. 

 Living With Uncertainty 

Kyiv is considered one of the most protected cities, but people still die here. No place in Ukraine is completely safe. It’s impossible to get used to this because you never know how it will end. 

During each shelling, my daughter and I message each other. If I hear an explosion near her area, I check immediately. I want to know she is safe. Some nights we hear so many drones passing overhead that we count them and hope we will be lucky. 

We live as civilians, but soldiers live among us too and many civilians become soldiers. Someone must protect the country, but it adds tension everywhere: between those who foughtand those who didn’t, those who left and those who stayed.  

Imagine being at home while your child is across the city and shelling starts. Over the last month (December), even a kindergarten was hit. 

We live as civilians, but soldiers live among us too and many civilians become soldiers. Someone must protect the country, but it adds tension everywhere: between those who foughtand those who didn’t, those who left and those who stayed. . 

Children, Food, and Daily Survival 

Schooling has been disrupted for years first by the COVID pandemic, then war. Whether children go to school depends on safety. Imagine being at home while your child is across the city and shelling starts. Over the last month [November 2025], even a kindergarten was hit. 

Recently, many warehouses with food and medicine have been destroyed. Some chain stores were nearly empty for almost a year after the beginning of war because their warehouses were destroyed. We are lucky that food is available now, but we never know when that could change. At the beginning of the war pharmacies had long queues. People shared what they had, especially older people, exchanging medicines and helping one another. At the beginning it was really difficult for those needed to take medicines regularly (like insulin).  

Many have been forced to leave their homes. Living elsewhere is expensive, jobs are scarce and some people choose to stay in dangerous places because they have no other option. 

Sometimes it feels like the world is tired of our war. You can turn off the news, but we can’t turn off the shelling. 

From left:  A former plant building about 650 yards from Iryna’s home lost most of the windows due to nearby shell fire; the Concert Hall Palace in Kyiv affected by shelling

Helping Where We Can 

At The Salvation Army, we support people with food, clothing, bedding and vouchers. We do what we can but in Kyiv alone, around half a million people are displaced. We work with other organisations, but funding is shrinking and some charities are leaving. 

Our office is in a basement. We have batteries for light when the electricity is cut, but we are still without heating which is electrical. Despite this, we’re using what we have to support people’s mental health. We help people access doctors, talk through trauma so they can heal together. We don’t put labels on people. We help whoever comes. 

Still Waiting for the End 

It’s frightening how normal this war has become. At the beginning, we believed world leaders would stop it. Years later, it’s still happening. Sometimes it feels like the world is tired of our war. You can turn off the news, but we can’t turn off the shelling. 

Some people are ready to fight. Some are ready to give up. It depends how much they’ve suffered. But there is still freedom here. Freedom to feel everything. Freedom to pray and to worship. 

We are praying for an end.