When relentless Russian bombing cut the power and heat to Radoslava Kabachiy’s apartment in Kyiv’s historic center in late January, she did what Ukrainians have done for centuries when Moscow attacks: headed for the village.
Now her habitual lifestyle of frequenting theaters and galleries, preserved despite four years of Russian invasion, has been replaced by clearing snow in the backyard and warning neighbors about air-raid alerts in the online village group chat.
Russian strikes on Ukrainian infrastructure left hundreds of thousands of Kyiv residents without power or heating for long stretches this winter, as temperatures dropped to minus 4 degrees Fahrenheit.
In January, Kyiv’s mayor urged residents to leave the city if they had somewhere to go, saying that about 600,000 had already done so.
After two weeks without heating and five days without power, coping with constant stress and sleeping problems, 36-year-old Kabachiy and her husband packed up essentials, including their cat Frida, and traveled 30 miles south of Kyiv to a village house her mother had bought decades earlier.
“In a village, you always find refuge, food and something that helps you to hold up emotionally,” she said. Kabachiy, a manager of cultural projects whose grandparents came from villages, said she had been soothed by nature, including the singing of birds in trees and the camaraderie of villagers.
Moscow has counted on undermining Ukrainians’ resistance by attacking power stations and the electricity grid to cut power and heat, which relies on electricity-powered pumps to function. Russian strikes have caused blackouts all over Ukraine, worst of all in major cities including Kyiv, Odesa, Dnipro and Kharkiv.
FILE PHOTO: Water vapour rises from residential buildings’ autonomous heating systems during a power blackout and freezing temperatures, after critical civil infrastructure was hit by recent Russian missile and drone attacks, amid Russia’s attack on Ukraine, in Kyiv, Ukraine January 19, 2026. REUTERS/Vladyslav Sodel/File Photo
But when times get tough, Ukrainians can still fall back to the village.
Ukrainians have for centuries been mostly an agrarian nation, plowing fertile black soils and relying on neighbors for physical and spiritual succor. During both world wars, many Ukrainians sought food and shelter in villages, said Roman Kabachiy, a 48-year-old historian and Radoslava’s husband.
These days many villages are crumbling as young people prefer the lifestyle and opportunities of cities. Less than one-third of Ukraine’s population lives in villages, while a century ago it was more than three quarters.
But when Russia unleashed its fiercest bombing campaign of this war this winter, it wasn’t long before Kyiv residents were sharing their ultimate survival plans: heading home.
In mid-January, graphic designer Oleksandra Skachkova posted a TikTok video of herself drinking her morning coffee beside a thermometer reading 53 degrees Fahrenheit. By that point, the 25-year-old and her partner had been living without heating for two weeks in Kyiv, boiling water over a candle and dressing themselves—and their dogs—in layers of clothes.
After seeing the video, her mother, who lives abroad, suggested that Skachkova move to the family home in the southern Odesa province.
The house in the small town had a large fireplace and a gas stove, providing warmth and the ability to cook regardless of the blackouts. When Skachkova and her partner, Lina Rohovska, a 27-year-old marketing specialist, unpacked and sat down for tea, they realized how exhausted they had been by the cold and darkness in Kyiv.
“We started living, not just surviving,” Skachkova said, sitting by the burning fireplace next to Rohovska and their two dogs, Delta and Taira.
“When we were in Kyiv, we didn’t want anything, we didn’t even laugh,” Rohovska said. “And here we started laughing a lot.”
The fireplace required regular wood chopping and cleaning out ash, which Skachkova found surprisingly enjoyable. The nearest grocery store was a mile away, and the bus ran only once an hour and accepted cash only, which is unusual for the couple, who were used to living in a big city with shops and cafes just around the corner.
As a result, they had to plan their grocery shopping in advance and ration their firewood. “It’s a question of discipline,” Skachkova said.
In late December, public-relations manager Danylo Boiko traveled with his parents and younger brother to a village south of Kyiv to celebrate Christmas with his great-grandparents.
As blackouts in the city intensified, the family first extended their stay through the New Year, then until the end of the school holidays. When the holidays were extended because of the cold, they decided to remain in the village at least until spring.
In their Kyiv apartment on the 10th floor, every power outage meant losing heating and running water. But the house where they are staying now is heated with wood and has running water, as well as a well nearby.
Boiko, 23 years old and below the age for conscription, said he often felt depressed in Kyiv because of the blackouts and blamed himself for not wanting to socialize with friends. In the village, he now enjoys not having to rush anywhere except to buy groceries or clear snow from the road. The chance to walk to the river has also lifted his spirits.
“I’m happy here,” he said.
It took the Kabachiy family several days to warm up their village house. They had taken refuge there before, during the Covid pandemic and the first months after Russia’s 2022 invasion, but it had been largely empty for the last half-year. Power outages in the village are also frequent, so their electrically heated home depends on a petrol generator. The device is so important that the family has even given it a human name: Havrylo, or Gabriel.
Every day, they have to switch on the generator, check the radiators and regularly clear snow from the road. Radoslava Kabachiy works remotely, sitting with her laptop in the kitchen, while Roman often commutes by bus to his job at a war museum in Kyiv.
When something breaks down, neighbors are there to help out, like when the radiators started leaking because of the big temperature swings. Radoslava says she misses nothing except food delivery.
One major advantage, she adds, is that her sleep disorder has disappeared.
