People are trying their best to survive in a place that is falling apart.
In the occupied southern Ukrainian city of Oleshky, roughly two thousand civilians find themselves caught between the slow violence of deprivation and the sudden violence of escape — a condition that has persisted since Russia's full-scale invasion began. Trapped by a destroyed river crossing, a mined road known locally as the Road of Death, and the indifference of competing military powers, residents face a choice that is no choice at all: endure starvation and shelling, or risk annihilation on the way out. Their predicament is not an accident of war but a portrait of what happens when civilians become the terrain upon which armies contest geography.
- Roughly two thousand people remain in Oleshky with almost no reliable access to food or medicine, foraging through abandoned homes and surviving on pasta and tinned goods as a humanitarian crisis quietly deepens.
- The only road out — a mined corridor locals call the Road of Death — is littered with burnt-out vehicles, some of which burned with people still inside, making evacuation a gamble with lethal odds.
- Even organized escapes offer no guarantee: one man who fled by ambulance watched the entire route lined with charred wreckage and prayed his family would not detonate a mine — they survived, but others have not.
- Ukraine and Russia trade blame for the civilian suffering while the International Red Cross seeks dialogue, and no humanitarian corridor has yet been established.
- Some residents, particularly the elderly, refuse to leave at all — choosing the familiar ruin of home over the unknown dangers of flight, a quiet defiance that speaks to how deeply war has narrowed the horizon of human possibility.
Ludmilla sits on the roof of a fire-damaged house in Oleshky and describes a city coming apart. For months, she and roughly two thousand others have had almost no access to fresh food or medicine. The roads out are mined, the bridges to the north destroyed, and the Dnipro River is controlled by Ukrainian forces on the far bank. She is trapped, watching the city decay around her.
Oleshky has been under Russian occupation since the full-scale invasion began, while Ukrainian troops hold the opposite bank near Kherson, recaptured in late 2022. Some aid has reached residents through volunteers — photos show elderly people collecting supplies in a city square — but portions are meager and prices high. People forage in abandoned neighbors' homes. Ukraine's human rights commissioner has warned of a humanitarian crisis.
Anyone who tries to leave faces what locals call the Road of Death. The route south along the Dnipro is heavily mined, and satellite imagery shows at least eight damaged vehicles on a single kilometer of road. Burnt-out cars line the highway. Some burned with people still inside.
Volodymyr, a man in his fifties, finally left after watching his neighbor's body carted away following a shelling strike. Volunteers arranged an ambulance evacuation. The entire route out was lined with charred wreckage. His family survived. Others have not.
Ludmilla's own home was destroyed when the Kakhovka Dam was blown up in June 2023. She now lives in someone else's burned-out house and will not leave — there is nowhere to go. Bodies, civilian and military alike, can lie uncollected for days. At least the trees shattered by shelling can be broken down for firewood.
Ukraine's human rights commissioner has appealed for a humanitarian corridor, accusing Russia of deliberate terrorism against civilians. Russia's Embassy told the BBC that the suffering results from Ukrainian strikes. Both sides blame the other for the mines. The International Red Cross is in dialogue with both authorities, seeking a way through.
Not everyone wants to leave. One resident recently watched a drone hover above a woman of about ninety years old. The woman looked up, waved her hand as if to say come what may, and hobbled on. For some, the known ruin of home still feels safer than the gamble of escape.
Ludmilla sits on the roof of a fire-damaged house in Oleshky, a city in southern Ukraine, and describes a place coming apart. For months, she and roughly two thousand other people have had almost no access to fresh food or medicine. The roads out are mined. The bridges to the north are destroyed. The river that runs beside the city—the Dnipro—is controlled by Ukrainian forces on the far bank. She is trapped, and she watches the city decay.
Oleshky has been under Russian occupation since the full-scale invasion began. Ukrainian troops are dug in across the river, just outside Kherson, which Ukraine recaptured in November 2022. The city sits in the crossfire between two armies, imprisoned by geography and war. Some aid has trickled in through volunteers and relief organizations—photos show crowds of elderly residents collecting supplies in a city square—but the prices are high and the portions meager. People have taken to foraging in the abandoned homes of neighbors. Pasta and tinned goods have become the diet of survival. Ukraine's human rights commissioner has warned of a humanitarian crisis.
Anyone who tries to leave faces what locals call the Road of Death. The route south and southwest along the Dnipro is heavily mined. Last winter, snowfall made the danger harder to see. The snow has melted, but the mines remain. Satellite imagery from November shows at least eight damaged vehicles on a single kilometer of road heading out toward Kardashynka. There is a large scorch mark on the road between Kardashynka and Hola Prystan' that appeared in late January. Verified footage shows a badly damaged vehicle that appears to have veered off the road—possibly hit by a mine or blown up. The highway is littered with burnt-out cars. Some burned with people still inside.
Volodymyr, a man in his fifties, finally decided to leave. He had watched his neighbor's body carted away after she was hit by shelling. He had been terrorized by drones. He could not endure it any longer. Volunteers arranged an ambulance evacuation for his family. Even that was horrifying. The entire route out of the city was lined with the charred remains of vehicles. He prayed they would not hit a mine. They did not. Others have not been as fortunate.
Inside the city, Russian soldiers are believed to be hiding in basements, avoiding Ukrainian drones. Bodies—both civilian and military—can lie uncollected for days. Ludmilla's own home was destroyed when the Kakhovka Dam was blown up in June 2023, causing catastrophic flooding. She now lives in someone else's burned-out house. She will not leave because there is nowhere to go. The destruction is still happening everywhere. At least trees hit by shelling can be broken down for firewood.
Ukraine's human rights commissioner, Dmytro Lubinets, has appealed to Russian authorities for a humanitarian corridor to allow safe evacuations. He accuses Russia of inflicting deliberate terrorism against civilians. Ukrainian officials claim that both civilians and Russian soldiers have been abandoned by the occupying authorities. Russia's Embassy in London told the BBC that the humanitarian difficulties are the result of systematic strikes by Ukrainian forces. The Russian-appointed governor of the Kherson region has accused Ukraine of destroying schools and kindergartens, though his recent posts do not specifically mention the humanitarian situation.
It is difficult to assess how many mines were laid by Russian forces and how many by Ukrainian forces. One Ukrainian soldier told the BBC that Ukraine had used mines to prevent Russia from delivering weapons to fighters inside the city, but that Ukrainian forces keep volunteers informed about safe routes. He accused Russia of scattering explosives indiscriminately. The International Red Cross is talking to authorities on both sides, seeking more information.
Not everyone in Oleshky wants to leave. Elderly Ukrainians in frontline towns are often reluctant to abandon their homes for an unknown future. One resident named Hanna recently saw a drone hovering above a woman about ninety years old. The woman looked up, waved her hand as if to say come what may, and hobbled on. For some, staying in a place you know, even as it falls apart, feels safer than the gamble of escape.
Citações Notáveis
The road is mined. So, we're stuck here. People are trying their best to survive.— Ludmilla, Oleshky resident
Leaving Oleshky, everyone prayed to God that we wouldn't hit a mine. None of us could endure it any longer.— Volodymyr, evacuated resident
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why hasn't the city been evacuated entirely? Surely the authorities could organize a safe corridor?
They've tried. The human rights commissioner has appealed to Russia for a humanitarian corridor. But Russia says Ukraine is striking the city. Ukraine says Russia is blocking evacuation. Meanwhile, the road out is mined—no one knows exactly where or by whom—and people are dying trying to leave.
So people are choosing to stay?
Some are. Especially the elderly. They've lived their whole lives in Oleshky. Leaving means abandoning everything for a refugee camp somewhere else, with no guarantee of safety or return. Staying is terrible, but it's familiar. You know your house, even if it's burned. You know where to find food, even if it's scraps.
What about the soldiers? Are they protecting civilians?
Russian soldiers are hiding in basements, avoiding drones. Ukrainian forces are across the river. Neither side is really there to protect the people living in the city. The civilians are caught between them.
How long can two thousand people survive on pasta and tinned goods?
That's the question no one can answer. Winter is coming again. Medicine is almost nonexistent. People are already foraging in abandoned homes. At some point, survival becomes impossible.
Is anyone actually getting out?
Yes, some. Volunteers have organized evacuations. But each one is a gamble. You get in an ambulance, you drive past burned-out cars, you pray you don't hit a mine. Some make it. Some don't.
What does Ludmilla want?
She wants the war to end. She wants to go home. But her home is gone—destroyed by the dam explosion. So she sits on the roof of someone else's burned house and watches the city decay, because there's nowhere else to go.