viktoriia Pysmenna with her son Mark in the bathroom of their apartment in Kyiv where they typically shelter during the night air raids.
Surviving the Night, Life in Kyiv Under Russia's Airstrikes
KYIV, Ukraine — Viktoriia Pysmenna, a 35-year-old single mother, endures a nightly routine plagued by anxiety and sleeplessness. The blaring sirens wake her from precious slumber, prompting her to follow a well-practiced drill. Desperately yearning for more sleep, she checks the air raid Telegram channels, akin to checking the weather forecast, and starts counting minutes.
If another Russian airstrike is imminent in Kyiv, she must rouse herself from bed once again. She must wake her 12-year-old son, Mark, in the dead of night. Depending on the type of threat, whether it be a drone or a ballistic missile, they may have only a couple of hours or mere minutes to seek shelter. The bathtub has become their designated safe haven, where Viktoriia tucks her son amidst pillows and blankets, waiting for the blasts, hopeful that Ukraine's air defenses will successfully thwart the attack.
This haunting nighttime routine has become a harrowing reality for families residing in Kyiv, enduring Russia's relentless bombardment. Although Kyiv had largely emptied out at the onset of Russia's brutal invasion last year, many families have since returned following a series of Russian military failures. The capital once again bustles with people flooding the downtown streets, restaurant patios, and neighborhood parks, relishing the arrival of summertime temperatures. However, amid the newfound liveliness, a restful night's sleep has become an elusive luxury.
Ukraine's armed forces, armed with a new arsenal of air defense systems, including two Patriot systems donated by the United States, Germany, and the Netherlands, have managed to intercept and destroy the majority of drones and missiles aimed at the capital. However, these same air defenses that protect the city of over 3 million inhabitants have also made it a prime target. Moscow appears determined to neutralize the Patriots, each costing over $1 billion, and other valuable systems.
Each time the air alarm resounds, families are forced to make split-second decisions about where to seek refuge, how swiftly to reach safety, and for how long, all while balancing the trade-off between security and the exhaustion accumulated from a month of sleepless nights. Parents tuck their children into closets, bathrooms, or corridors, adhering to the so-called "two wall rule." Couples inhabiting high-rise apartments scurry into underground garages, basements, or subway stations. Others simply shift their beds as far away from windows as possible, using their bodies to shield their young ones.
The following morning, Kyiv residents must carry on with their day, sending their children to school tardy, ordering extra espresso shots en route to work, or stealing moments for a nap in office meeting rooms, all while knowing that it will all repeat again in a matter of hours. On an early Thursday morning, the city awoke to a series of blasts claiming three lives, including that of a 9-year-old girl. Some individuals sought refuge in basement shelters, only to find them locked.
The explosions caught Viktoriia Pysmenna off guard, leaving her no time for her usual decision-making process. Just before 3 a.m., approximately five minutes after the alarm commenced, a thunderous explosion shook her 15th-floor apartment, jolting her and her son out of their slumber.
This time, they rushed to the hallway, hoping the multiple walls would provide them with safety. Viktoriia asked Mark if he wanted a pillow and arranged the duvet on the floor for him to lie down. As he yawned and nodded, she scrolled through her phone, seeking any indication of when the next blast might occur.
Viktoriia and Mark reside on the 15th floor of a two-bedroom, approximately 690-square-foot apartment. Viktoriia had always dreamed of living in a place with a view, where she could witness the sun setting over Kyiv's skyline. However, that view has transformed into a constant threat.
Earlier that evening, she pointed out locations in the city where a fighter jet had been shot down, where a missile had been destroyed, where a building had caught fire during an attack. During the night, she observes beams of light scanning the sky in search of drones. Mark, on the other hand, has gradually grown accustomed to the booms. When he lies awake at night, he distracts himself by playing a video game on his phone.
Viktoriia, a local TV news editor, recently worked the overnight shift at her office. It was early May, a relatively calm period in Kyiv, and it was the only night she left Mark home alone. (His father, Viktoriia's former spouse, is a soldier currently fighting in the east.)
Only later did she discover, through a text from a colleague, that the air defenses had engaged Russian targets that very night, causing the loud explosions in their neighborhood.
Recalling that night, Mark said, "My heart was beating fast." Instead of calling his mother or anyone else for reassurance, he walked himself to the bathroom, curled up in the tub alone, and fell asleep.
For Kyiv parents with younger children like Kateryna Davydchenko, 31, explaining the explosions is an impossible task. When she hears the blasts, she grabs her nearly 2-year-old son and rushes him to the bathroom. He often trembles, not fully awake, agitated and yet oblivious to the chaos unfolding outside.
Daria Altukhova, 37, swiftly escorts her 3-year-old son to the hallway, where they sleep on couch cushions. Her husband remains in bed. On nights filled with cacophony, sleeping next to her son provides some solace to Daria. However, even when sleep manages to envelop her, she awakens with a sense of unease.
"You begin your day in a stressful way," she laments. "Your mind is still there."
These near-nightly attacks have collectively plunged Kyiv into a sleep crisis. Yuriy Pogoretsky, a somnologist who runs Ukraine's Laboratory of Sleep, the country's sole clinic specializing in sleep disorders, has witnessed a threefold increase in patients seeking assistance due to the war. As strikes intensified this month, requests for online consultations skyrocketed by tenfold. Pogorestsky advises companies to designate areas where employees can take brief naps, while advising patients to retire early to attain a deep sleep before the airstrikes commence. He also encourages families to prepare a bag with essentials for sleeping in bunkers, hallways, or subway stations, including sleeping bags, pillows, eye masks, and earplugs.
"Car alarms went off," one friend reports. Another adds, "Ballistic." "It was sooooo loud," they exclaim. Everyone seems to be awake, even friends who usually sleep through such disturbances.
"Are you staying home?" one
