‘We need real peace’: Easter truce fails to lift grim mood in war-torn Ukraine
‘We need real peace’: Easter truce fails to lift grim mood in war-torn Ukraine
The Orthodox Easter truce between Russia and Ukraine began on Saturday, but just 38 minutes later, air raid sirens pierced the skies over Kharkiv region. Despite the pause in hostilities, frontline officials noted several ceasefire breaches, though no long-range missiles or drones were launched. The truce, intended to last until Easter Monday, offers a brief respite after four years of war. Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky tweeted:
“Easter should be a time of safety, a time of peace,” he wrote, adding that Ukrainian forces would “respond strictly in kind” to any Russian aggression.
In Kharkiv, families gathered at St John the Theologian Church for an Easter blessing, carrying baskets of iced cakes, painted eggs, and sausages. They lined up around the building for a holy water ritual, a tradition usually held at midnight. The service took place mid-afternoon due to curfews, leaving the church’s damaged facade—still boarded up on one side—amid the quiet. When asked about the ceasefire’s reliability, Fr Viktor questioned:
“Do you believe them?”
Close to the Russian border, a military training site buzzed with activity as members of Yasni Ochi strike UAV unit prepared for the 32-hour pause. They loaded kamikaze drones with explosives and practiced dive attacks. Commander Heorhiy instructed his troops to remain alert unless under attack. “Russia says one thing, then does the other,” he said, emphasizing the need for vigilance. Meanwhile, drones delivered Easter treats and alcohol-free wine to soldiers stationed nearby. The unit’s training village was captured in 2022 but later reclaimed by Ukraine, now reduced to rubble.
Returning to Kharkiv, the city’s ring road was draped in netting to catch Russian drones. Yet this measure offers little protection against missiles striking residential areas. In one suburb, five-storey apartment blocks lay in ruins, others boarded up and uninhabitable. Last month, a missile attack killed 11 people, destroying an entire section of a building. Amid the wreckage, a red rug still clung to a wall, and nearby lay photos of two victims. Olha, a neighbor, shared footage of the night the disaster occurred: her flat reduced to pieces while she and her mother huddled in a corridor. “This truce is only 1.5 days,” she said, “but at least we can rest a bit. Here, you expect to die every second.”
Heorhiy, whose unit once thrived as DJs in Dnipro’s underground music scene, reflects on the war’s toll. “It’s not our choice. I don’t like war, my guys don’t like it,” he remarked. “We used to have good civilian life.” Yet he remains focused on securing peace through negotiations, insisting Ukraine cannot pause until it secures better terms from its allies. The US-led peace process, meanwhile, has stalled as Trump’s envoys shift focus to the Iran conflict. Ukraine continues to demand strong security guarantees, particularly assurances from the US in case of renewed Russian attacks.