Olena Janchuk spends another day in isolation in her high-rise apartment.
The former kindergarten teacher has severe arthritis and has been trapped for weeks on the 19th floor of her Kyiv tower block, 650 steps from the ground floor.
Long daily blackouts caused by the bombing of electrical equipment and power lines in Russia have made working elevators a luxury.
As January temperatures drop to -10 C, there is an endless line of frost inside Janchuk’s windows, white patterns creeping across the glass in the morning.
The 53-year-old huddles over a makeshift fireplace of candles arranged under stacked bricks, designed to absorb and release heat slowly. USB charging cables run down from overcrowded power lines, while his electric blanket is plugged into a power bank limited to the coldest hours.
“If there is no light and heat for 17 and a half hours, you have to come up with something,” he said. “Brick works really well in a small room, so we’re staying there.”
During the day, the family changes to rooms that catch the winter sun, the work of each area changes and the schedule of turning off the electricity. At night, heavy clothes stay indoors as the apartment cools down quickly without central heating.
Kyiv, Ukraine’s capital of about three million people, is dominated by tower blocks, many from the Soviet era, now left powerless for most of the day.
In this fourth winter of war, electricity is a limited commodity.
Citizens organize their lives through electrical systems: when to cook, when to wash, charge phones and washing machines. Food is selected for shelf life, water is filtered in bottles and stored in buckets. Small camping gas burners are used to heat soup or tea when the electricity is out.
Sleep is interrupted by air raid alarms and the need to use electricity during off-peak hours.
Outside, across snow-covered Kyiv, diesel generators rumble along commercial streets. Shoppers wandered the streets using phone flashlights, and the bars were lit by candles.
Apps notify users of low power windows – usually just a few hours – enough to restart the house.
Life gets tough on high floors
Janchuk’s 22-story building is next to a power station, and residents can witness first-hand the missile and drone attacks, the light that illuminates the horizon at night.
When the power went out, they climbed the stairs in the dark, telephone lights coming from the concrete steps, often accompanied by the echo of children and barking dogs. Sometimes people leave plastic bags with cookies or water inside the elevators for those who get stuck when the power goes out during the trip.
Janchuk’s husband, who works all day, delivers groceries in the evening while her mother, Lyudmila Bachurina, 72, takes care of the household chores.
“It’s cold, but we can do it,” said the mother holding a square USB flashlight that she had just hung on the wall. “When the lights come on, I start to turn on the washing machine, fill water bottles, cook food, charge power banks, run to the kitchen and run around the house.”
In high-rises, residents collect money for generators to keep the elevators running. But many blocks – home to pensioners, families and disabled people – cannot afford them.
Disability advocates, including groups representing wounded military veterans, say stairs have become an invisible barrier to society, cutting people off from their homes.
They urged city officials to fund residential generators.
Until then, life bends on an electronic timeline. USB lamps, power banks and inverter batteries have become household staples. Phone calls help neighbors check in on seniors and change blackout updates.
From the upper floors, Kyivans look up at the skyscrapers and the city’s historic churches covered in gold. At night, the light from the explosions is visible as Russia continues its campaign against the Ukrainian energy system.
Russia is wreaking havoc on infrastructure
There are too many power stations and power lines to meet the demand, even if the electricity is bought in Europe. To prevent grid collapse, operators are forcing blackouts, keeping hospitals and critical services alive while homes go dark.
At one coal-fired power plant hit repeatedly, shift manager Yuriy wades through the wreckage of burned machinery, collapsed roofs and control panels that have melted into useless lumps. Repairs are done with a torch, large sandbags protect what is still working. Pictures of colleagues who were killed at work hang by the door.
“After the missile and drone attacks, the consequences are terrible – huge,” he said.
Ukraine’s president spoke Thursday in Davos about what citizens are enduring this winter, as he says Russia is targeting critical infrastructure, leading to power outages and water supply disruptions.
Officials asked that the facility’s location and Yuriy’s full name be withheld for security reasons.
“Our power plants have been destroyed. It’s expensive,” said Yuriy. “Right now, we’re giving back what we can.”
Ukraine’s energy sector has lost more than 20 billion dollars in direct war damage, according to a joint estimate by the World Bank, the European Commission and the United Nations.
Kyiv has repeatedly revised its plan to save electricity in the winter, dimming or cutting street lights in areas with low traffic and investing in centralized power generation.
In tower blocks, recovery feels far away.
“I’m tired, I’m really tired, to be honest. When you can’t go outside, when you don’t see the sun, when there’s no light and you can’t even go to the store yourself …. It worries you,” said Lyudmila Bachurina.
“But the important thing, as all Ukrainians are saying now, is that we will tolerate anything until the war ends.”
