The Toll of Constant Fear: How Russia's Missile Tactics Are Breaking Kyiv's Spirit

The Changing Face of War

For much of Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Daria was not afraid of the shelling. Even on nights of heavy bombardment, the 27-year-old could sleep through the explosions in her apartment in Kyiv. Like many Ukrainians, she relied on the 'two-wall rule': staying safe by keeping two walls between herself and the outside world. But this year that has changed.

"I keep a backpack with essential items," says Natalia, 37. "There's a tourniquet for severe bleeding. I also keep a whistle, just in case. If the worst happens, rescuers will be able to find us under the rubble."

In recent months, Russia has scaled up the intensity and frequency of its attacks against the Ukrainian capital. In the first 10 days of July alone, the Russians launched dozens of ballistic missiles in three major attacks, killing nearly 60 civilians, according to official figures. Similar large scale attacks took place in August and September. A BBC Verify analysis of government figures found Kyiv is now suffering more daily air raid alerts than at any time since Russia's full-scale invasion in 2022.

The New Reality of Unpredictability

Daria's experience is far from unique. Residents in Kyiv who say they had got used to Russia's missile and drone strikes have told the BBC World Service the renewed intensity of the attacks is making them rethink how they live their lives. Previously, Ukraine's air-defence network and military intelligence gave residents a degree of predictability. Large-scale attacks could often be detected in advance, allowing people to spend the night in shelters, leave the city or take other precautions. But since the summer, Russia has changed its tactics.

It has relied less on aircraft, whose movements can be spotted ahead of time, and more on ballistic missiles that travel at tremendous speed and provide little warning. Air-raid alerts sometimes begin only moments before impact, or even simultaneously with the first explosions.

Lives Interrupted

At the beginning of September, when children returned to school after the summer break, there were dozens of air raid alerts, followed by explosions and fires. According to Kyiv Mayor Vitali Klitschko, two children were injured in attacks on 31 August. As a result, many children stayed at home, while others spent hours in the basements of schools and kindergartens.

"People don't sleep, and then they walk around like zombies," Nadia says.

When the sirens sound, it also affects businesses and transport. Shopping centres close and above-ground metro stations suspend operations, often severing public transport links between Kyiv's Left and Right Banks, on either side of the Dnieper River, for hours at a time.

Human Cost of the War

The growing intensity of the strikes is taking a psychological toll across the city. "People are exhausted. They don't have enough time to recover," says one resident. For Olha Vlasova, who lives with her 98-year-old mother Nadia in a high-rise apartment block, the constant attacks have become a way of life. Nadia remains intensely engaged with the world from her bed, following events in Ukraine and abroad, discussing everything from US President Donald Trump's policies to anti-corruption protests in Kyiv.

"It's upsetting when there's nothing to shoot them down with," Nadia says. "I can hear them firing with whatever they've got, rifles, machine guns."

The Struggle for Safety

With Nadia confined to her bed, she and Olha cannot go to a shelter, however serious an attack is. Instead, as soon as an air-raid siren sounds, Olha covers her mother with a blanket, pushes a mattress into their window frame, and then hides in a wardrobe which puts two walls between her and outside.

For Natalia Bushkovska, each night she rehearses three different plans: Plan A is to spread bedding in the hallway behind two interior walls; Plan B is to move the family into the building's shared corridor; and Plan C is to head for the basement. Even there, she admits, she does not feel entirely safe.

Adapting to a New Normal

Daria can see her nearest shelter from the window of her apartment, which she still rents. Even so, it takes around 10 minutes to reach it. During a ballistic attack, she might have just four minutes' warning or less, she says. She decided to leave Kyiv in June after holidaying abroad this summer and seeing people living "normal" lives.

But for many residents, leaving is not an option. The constant threat has become part of daily life, forcing people to live with uncertainty and fear, adapting their routines to accommodate the unpredictability of air raids. The psychological toll of this relentless bombardment is as significant as any physical damage it inflicts.

Looking Forward

As these attacks continue, residents are left questioning not just their safety but their resilience. President Volodymyr Zelensky has repeatedly appealed to allies for additional air-defence systems and interceptor missiles, emphasizing the urgency of providing support before the situation deteriorates further.

"They [Ukraine's allies] wait, thinking: 'What if we get attacked?'" Olha says. "It's like refusing to give medicine to a cancer patient because you're saying, 'What if I get sick one day?' Well, maybe you won't. Give it away before it expires."

For the people of Kyiv, every night is a test of endurance, and every morning brings the uncertainty of whether another attack will disrupt their fragile peace. The psychological toll of constant fear is a testament to the human cost of war, where even the simplest acts of daily life are now shaped by survival.