Round-the-clock drone attacks wear down Kyiv's civilian morale

For much of the conflict, the pattern was predictable: Russian drones and missiles would arrive under the cover of darkness. Residents would track their approach on Telegram channels and decide whether to shelter or stay put. That routine has now been upended.

Since last week, attacks have come at all hours. The expectation that daylight brings safety has been replaced by a relentless cycle of sirens, evacuations, and the distant thud of air defenses. The constant alerts have intruded on every aspect of life, from work commutes and school runs to the most personal of moments.

A wedding in the city's botanical garden went ahead despite the chaos. Iryna Baranova, 38, was returning home from getting her hair and makeup done when explosions echoed across the capital. "We heard two explosions, the alarm ended, we got together and went to the registration ceremony," she said. Her new husband, Evhen Mytsyk, 40, was defiant. "Everything went great. No matter what, life goes on and we have to live it, so we live."

Others are finding it harder to cope. Volodymyr Bovsunovskyi, a father to a young daughter, described a recent trip to a shopping mall that turned into a frantic escape. After just 20 minutes inside, an air-raid alert forced them out. Within two minutes of leaving, smoke was already rising from a nearby strike. "It was so difficult these seven days," he said, citing sleepless nights and the challenge of keeping a child safe.

For some, the constant alerts have bred a weary indifference. Ivan Datsiv, an IT worker, said he now ignores the sirens that sound "once an hour or once every three hours." He argues that constantly running to a shelter is futile. "A good solution is to just move," he added.

Others seek solace in routine and reflection. Tetyana Shevchenko, a guitar teacher, meditates in a small wooden gazebo to maintain her calm. She admits the initial terror of the sirens has faded into a grim acceptance. "The body works that way, it gets used to everything, including nighttime attacks, spending the night on the floor in the corridor, and insomnia," she said. "But we get up and continue to live."

The new tactics, involving faster jet-powered drones, have also disrupted daily logistics. Train journeys are stretching for hours as services halt for alerts, and GPS jamming has made taxi apps unreliable. As the attacks show no sign of abating, the city's residents are left to navigate a fractured existence, finding moments of normalcy where they can.