Kramatorsk: A Glimpse into the Heart of Ukraine’s Resilience Amidst Conflict
In the frontline city of Kramatorsk, a branch of the Ukrainian coffee chain Lviv Croissants features a colorful noticeboard where locals leave heartfelt messages on vibrant Post-it notes. One simple note reads “Kramatorsk,” adorned with red hearts and a yellow-and-blue semi-circular fan, the colors representing the spirit of Ukraine.
Among those admiring the notes is Bohdan, a 26-year-old soldier who has dedicated the past three years to serving in the army. Currently stationed in logistics, he chose to spend his rare day off in Kramatorsk with his loyal dog, Arnold. His mission? To document the aftermath of recent Russian bombings in the city where he served for 18 months. “I have a history with this place,” Bohdan reflects. “It’s part of my destiny and my puzzle.”
Kramatorsk is a crucial holdout for Ukraine, representing the remaining 30% of the Donetsk oblast still under Ukrainian control amidst ongoing Russian advances. Recent negotiations involving Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin have intensified discussions surrounding the future of Donetsk, a region historically tied to Russia. Despite external pressures, the residents of Kramatorsk feel a deep connection to their land and are determined to maintain their home.
Just moments before, Bohdan captured an image of a tree scarred by a Russian bombing that occurred on July 31, which tragically claimed five lives. He plans to immortalize this image as a tattoo: “The tree is symbolic; like Ukraine, it holds on despite the strike.” On his left calf, he already has a tattoo listing the Russian airstrikes that resulted in over 15 civilian casualties throughout Ukraine. “These dates should stay with me,” he asserts.
Although the frontline is only about 12 miles away, Kramatorsk maintains a semblance of life under the August sun. While air raid alarms sound frequently—alerting residents to missiles overhead—locals remain resilient, understanding that when an attack does happen, there may be no warning.
Currently, Kramatorsk is home to approximately 250,000 civilians, a sharp decline from pre-invasion numbers. Many buildings are boarded up, yet the city retains its charm, with shops and cafes like Sweet Coffee House Bakery still bustling. Kateryna Seledtsova, the owner, has adapted her menu to cater to the predominantly male clientele, offering simpler foods that sell out daily. “Men like simpler food,” she explains, having swapped out delicate French pastries for hearty options like layered Napoleon cake.
Seledtsova expresses her disbelief at the idea of giving up any part of Donetsk. “It strikes me as idiocy. Men have been digging trenches here. All of those fortifications for nothing?” Her roots run deep in Kramatorsk, as she is a lifelong resident, and the thought of being forced to leave is too distressing to entertain. Regarding potential compromises for NATO membership, she sees only complications. “Evacuating is already challenging; we don’t have the money to rent or buy elsewhere.”
In the neighboring city of Sloviansk, Valentyna and her friend Yelena are at a park with their grandsons. They voice their frustrations about the ongoing conflict. “You’re a journalist; you could help us shout for peace,” Valentyna urges. When asked about the possibility of ceding land, she only expresses a desire for the war to end.
The impact of war on children is evident, as Valentyna notes her grandsons struggle with anxiety due to the conflict. Recent security concerns have led to the suspension of in-person classes, and children are often exposed to terrifying sights, such as drones flying overhead.
At the local market, residents sell produce from their gardens, showcasing the rich agricultural heritage of the region. One vendor, also named Valentyna, offers grapes while reflecting on the dire situation. “We should keep fighting for our lands; these are Ukrainian lands with recognized borders,” she asserts.
The conflict remains fierce in Donetsk, particularly around Pokrovsk, where heavy fighting continues. Local officials are cautious in their statements, but reports reveal civilian casualties and ongoing evacuations as the situation deteriorates.
In Pavlohrad, a transit refugee center has been overwhelmed by the influx of displaced individuals. Kateryna Makarova, a team leader at the center, notes a significant increase in arrivals, with numbers rising from 200 to nearly 450 daily as the Russian offensive escalates. Conditions at the center are cramped, with ongoing efforts to expand capacity amidst worsening weather conditions.
Amid this turmoil, Nadiya and Serhii, a couple evacuated from Mezhova, sit in the sun at the refugee center, surrounded by bags containing their belongings. They never anticipated that war would reach their village. Serhii, seeking solace, reflects, “If I had a brother like that, I would change my last name.”
As Kramatorsk and its neighboring regions navigate this unprecedented crisis, the resilience of the Ukrainian people shines through their determination to hold onto their land, their culture, and their future.
