Russian missiles and Iranian ‘kamikaze’ drones are sending people in Kyiv back to the bomb shelters

A “horrific sense of deja vu”— that’s what Ania Bilous, a 28-year-old public relations professional and Kyiv native, felt when Russia renewed its attacks on the Ukrainian capital last week, puncturing a monthslong lull in fighting — first with missile strikes and then with a new instrument of terror: Iranian-made self-destructing unmanned aerial vehicles — also known as “kamikaze” drones.

The assault marked a return to a climate of fear for the people of Kyiv — and a return to brutal, long-distance warfare for Russia’s President Vladimir Putin.

Reeling from a series of humiliating battlefield losses, Putin has once again trained some of his heaviest weaponry on Ukraine’s most heavily populated civilian centers: not just Kyiv, where the historic heart of the city has faced sustained attacks in recent days, but also Lviv in the far west, Kharkiv in the northeast and Mykolaiv in southern Ukraine.

Kyiv in particular was a focus of Putin’s initial invasion, but it was also home to Putin’s first humiliation — a more-muscular-than-anticipated Ukrainian resistance that forced Russia to retreat and brought some semblance of normalcy back to the capital. Cafes reopened, public transportation resumed, and ordinary Ukrainians did their best to return to work or take up new work to help in the war effort. The capital was safe enough for Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy to welcome a long list of foreign leaders and other dignitaries to his capital; visitors from then-British Prime Minister Boris Johnson to House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) walked the streets of Kyiv and marvelled at the calm, even as war raged in other parts of the country.

Always fragile, that calm has now been shattered. As Bilous and several other residents of the Ukrainian capital told Grid, it has been replaced by a near-constant fear of when and where the next strikes may come.

“I would be lying to you if I said that we weren’t afraid of those drone attacks,” Bilous said. “We were. But this fear was transformed into anger really quickly. It was our daily reminder that Russia is a terrorist state.”

The sounds of terror: drones from Iran

This time, the terror has a new soundtrack: the buzz of those slow-moving and low-flying Iranian drones that swoop down on targets and explode on impact. Russia has used the weapons on the battlefield since at least August, according to Britain’s defense ministry.

Their deployment in the war — still denied by Russia — is yet another sign of how Moscow is struggling to prosecute what the Kremlin continues to call its “special military operation.” The drones can carry only a small explosive payload and are easy to target using conventional air defenses. (Ukrainians have taken to calling them “flying mopeds.”) But for Russia, they offer a way of filling a “capability gap” in the air, according to British officials: After losing scores of warplanes and pilots to the Ukrainian resistance, the Kremlin has turned to these pilotless aerial weapons as a way of inflicting pain while limiting its losses.

A battlefield workaround, in other words, but one that turned Monday’s rush hour into a scene of carnage in Kyiv, damaging or destroying several civilian targets and killing at least four people. Across Ukraine, local officials told Grid that more than 70 civilians had been killed and more than 240 injured as a result of Russian attacks between Oct. 7 and Tuesday.

In recent days, Russia has also launched several drone and missile strikes at water and power facilities, Ukrainian officials say, in an apparent bid to cut energy supplies and create chaos for civilians. Since Oct. 10, at least “30 percent of Ukraine’s power stations have been destroyed, causing massive blackouts across the country,” Zelenskyy said on Twitter earlier this week.

In some parts of Kyiv, the attacks have led to water shortages, as supply lines and pumping stations have been affected, according to accounts gathered by Grid. And the damage has extended beyond infrastructure to popular public areas — including a missile strike on a playground

“The children’s playground and the Khanenko Museum in the center of the capital city, this is where the Russian terrorists targeted,” Deputy Head of the Ukrainian Office of the President Kyrylo Tymoshenko wrote on the Telegram messaging service as the city took stock of the damage. “They are killing our culture and our children!”

Glib Buriak, an economics professor who lives in Kyiv, told Grid he was in his apartment in the city center, a short walk from the playground, when the missiles struck. “When I saw the result of the attack, I felt nothing but fury,” Buriak said. “The missile hit the children’s playground and fell very close to my friend’s restaurant.”

Back to the bomb shelters

For Bilous, Buriak and others who remain in the city, the renewal of Russian attacks means returning to a life of blackouts and bomb shelters. Yehor Lysenko, who works in real estate in the city, told Grid that almost overnight, the mood has been transformed. “The situation has changed,” Lysenko told Grid. “People are now staying away from the city center [because of the recent attacks].”

Lysenko was among those who fled the city in the early days of the invasion, moving to a small village with his family to escape the Russian attacks. It was only at the end of April that he decided to venture back — and even then, he went with trepidation.

“I wanted to check on our house and then decide whether or not we could move back with the entire family,” he told Grid. There was no electricity, and the water supply was erratic. All around, said Lysenko, there was destruction: damaged buildings and blown-up roads. “Kyiv,” he recalled, “was empty and silent and it felt weird. Everything was closed. No cars, no people on the streets. It felt like an apocalyptic movie.”

But then, slowly, as Ukraine pushed Russian forces further to the east, “Kyiv came back to normal life. Even the traffic became very busy,” Lysenko told Grid.

The city seemed increasingly safe from Russian attacks, and as a result, many residents had started to ignore the air raid sirens and stopped seeking cover in designated bomb shelters.

“We weren’t strictly following the guidance,” Lysenko said, “because it has been a while since the Russians targeted the city center.”

This month’s attacks have turned back the clock: When the missiles and drone weapons aren’t landing, the city’s streets are once again unusually quiet. Growing numbers of people have been seeking cover in the bomb shelters. Although shops and supermarkets remain open, foot traffic has fallen, several residents told Grid. Schools have been closed in the capital, with classes shifting online. There is, locals said, a palpable sense of nervousness in the air.

“It is hard,” Lysenko told Grid. “It is a sad feeling.”

No plans to leave; “Kyiv is my heart”

Yet amid the sadness and fear, Lysenko and his fellow residents also spoke of a determination to not let the Russians drive them out of their city.

“I haven’t left, and I’m not sure I can give a clear answer about whether I will,” Bilous told Grid. “I haven’t so far because I always believed that the capital would be the safest place to be. That it would be defended to the last. But there is also an emotional part. Kyiv is my heart. I still believe that, even after the drone attacks. We have to rethink but that has not changed.”

Buriak said keeping Kyiv safe and helping it return as fast as possible to normalcy was also important for the country at large. “Staying in Kyiv is good for the morale of our people in general. And I do feel that, even after these attacks, Kyiv is very well protected,” he said. “Our air defense system is efficient.”

Ultimately, Bilous told Grid, it boils to the pull of home. No matter what Russia does, Kyiv “is my home,” she said. “I don’t have any other home. And I don’t want any other home.”

Thanks to Alicia Benjamin for copy editing this article.