The city that did not become a rear. How Kherson lives three years after de-occupation

It has been three years since the Ukrainian Armed Forces liberated Kherson, the only regional center captured by the Russian army at the beginning of the full-scale invasion.

This city has become a symbol of resistance: during the occupation, Kherson residents come out to rallies at gunpoint, buried ukrainian flags so that on Liberation Day, November 11, 2022, they can be unfurled again on Svoboda Square.

Kherson did not become the rear. There are Russian troops across the Dnipro. And the city itself is under fire every day. Despite this, about 60,000 people remain here, working, raising children, repairing houses and trying to keep the city alive. Kherson is also being helped by those who were forced to leave but have not left the city.

To find out how Kherson and Kherson residents are living three years after the de-occupation, LIGA.net spoke to a soldier who took part in the liberation of Kherson, former mayor Volodymyr Mykolaienko, who was held in Russian captivity, Roman Baklazhov, head of the community of former civilian prisoners of war "Prisoners of Kherson," and a young mother who is raising her child in the frontline city and is not going to leave it.

This is a story about those who stayed and those who are returning. It is about those who keep the memories of pre-war Kherson and see with their own eyes the modern Kherson, the southern outpost that it was forced to become.

My grandfather dug a hole and everyone cried

The deputy commander of the artillery division of the 39th Coastal Defense Brigade, call sign Ibis, entered Kherson in November 2022. He recalls that the liberation of the city was the result of months of work.

Since the summer, Ukrainian troops have been gradually putting pressure on the enemy, methodically destroying its logistics, including bridges across the Dnipro.

When the Ukrainian Armed Forces entered the Kherson region, they were met on the streets with Ukrainian flags. People took them out of cans buried in their gardens in the spring, cried and hugged them. Locals brought food to the soldiers and thanked them for the liberation. But not everyone immediately realized what was happening.

"In Chornobaivka, a man came up to us and said he was burying ammunition to prevent the Russians from getting it," Ibis says. "We were standing nearby when he started digging a hole. His neighbor saw it, came running and started screaming: "Don't kill my grandfather!". We said: "No one will kill grandpa, we are from the Armed Forces of Ukraine". And she started crying and hugged us. Then everyone was crying and hugging."

The military realized that the danger had not disappeared after the liberation of the city. The Russians remained on the other side of the Dnipro, and it was obvious that the shelling would not stop. Ibis says that civilians also realized this:

"We had a conversation with a man, about 35 years old, from Kherson. I said: "You know, the enemy will destroy the city, it's purposeful." He said: "Yes, I understand everything. I'd rather be under fire than under occupation".

After the city was liberated, Ibis's unit continues to serve in the south. The military conducts reconnaissance, adjusts fire, and restrains the enemy's attempts to rotate. According to Ibis, the war in Kherson region, as elsewhere, has become more technological – the parties are using drones on a large scale, which complicates logistics and changes the nature of the fighting. The Russians are shelling not only the positions of the Ukrainian Armed Forces, but also civilian objects, trying to create a humanitarian crisis in the region.

Kherson is about pain and hope

Return of former Kherson Mayor Volodymyr Mykolayenko from Russian captivity on August 24, 2025 has become is one of the few positive news about the city in recent times. Usually, Kherson is mentioned in the news because of shelling, deaths and destroyed houses.

After the occupation began, Mykolaienko remained in Kherson, attending rallies with the townspeople and joining the local terrorist defense. In the spring of 2022, he was detained by the Russians. Even in captivity, he did not change his beliefs: in a well-known video of the politician on the camera of the Russian channel Izvestia denied the thesisthe Ukrainian military leader Roman Shukhevych was a Nazi.

In the first photos after his release, Mykolayenko is hardly recognizable because of his weight loss. For about two months, he underwent medical treatment, gave dozens of interviews to journalists and communicated with the relatives of those he had been held captive with. On the eve of the third anniversary of the de-occupation, he returned to his native Kherson and his family.

Locals recognize Mykolayenko on the streets and thank him. He hugs them and thanks them in return for their resilience. Talking to journalists is frankly tiring for him, and his goal now is to help those who remain in Russian captivity as much as possible. This is what he plans to do in the future.

The former mayor says that today's Kherson is both painful and hopeful for him. He is still getting used to the new rules of life in the city and is learning to distinguish different types of attacks by ear.

"I walked around the city and see these destroyed houses. But I am inspired by the fact that there are flags of Ukraine on every street. The Russians are taking revenge on the people of Kherson because they don't want to be like them. But I am convinced that we will win this fight. Free people always win over slaves who do not know what freedom is."

"Civilian prisoners are not afraid of anything"

During the occupation, dozens of Kherson residents – men and women – went through Russian torture chambers. They were held within the city – in detention centers, police stations, and basements. They were tortured with electricity, kept without food and beaten to death. They were taken for any hint of a pro-Ukrainian position.

Journalists, academics, local government officials, volunteers, and even foreign nationals were captured. Among them was Spanish volunteer Mariano Garcia Calatayuda, better known to Kherson residents as Mario. On March 19, 2022, he was detained after a pro-Ukrainian rally. For some time, he was held in one of the Kherson torture chambers, and later the Russians took him to Crimea. It is unknown where Mario is now. At the time of his detention, he was 74 years old.

Roman Baklazhov from Kherson is one of the survivors who survived captivity and has been helping others since his release. Before the full-scale war, he was an entrepreneur and owned a furniture workshop. He was also a deputy of the Dniprovskyi District Council of Kherson, and in 2014 he became a member of the Right Sector. After the occupation began, he organized a humanitarian headquarters, where he and other volunteers distributed food to the townspeople.

In July 2022, Roman was detained by the Russian military and spent 54 days in a temporary detention center in Kherson. "The place was very bad, but the people were very good," he recalls of his cellmates.

After his release from captivity, Roman moved to Odesa with his wife and child. The man created the Union of Civilian Prisoners, an initiative that unites more than 200 people and helps survivors of torture to restore their documents, receive medical treatment, and achieve official status.

"We work 24/7," says Baklazhov, "because these people often have no one to turn to.

According to him, the main problem of former prisoners is the lack of recognition by the state. Many have not yet received the official status of a person illegally deprived of their liberty during the armed conflict with Russia. Without it, it is impossible to apply for compensation or a deferral from mobilization.

"The commission under the Ministry of Development that grants this status works behind closed doors," Roman explains. "People have been waiting for a decision for years. One of the requirements is to prove your pro-Ukrainian position. But how can you do that if no one will give you any documents about it?"

To ensure that former prisoners of war have a job in Kherson, Baklazhov's organization created a brigade to help repair the damage caused by Russian shelling. Its members work in dangerous areas where public utilities or volunteers cannot reach.

"Civilian prisoners are no longer afraid of anything," Roman says.

He plans to return to Kherson when it is safe for his child and create a museum in the former torture chamber on Pylyp Orlyk Street, with items, testimonies, and stories of people who went through captivity.

"We will do everything to make sure people remember what happened in this city," says Roman.

"Being at home means believing in the best"

Valentyna Ponomariova lives in Kherson with her husband Oleksii and four-year-old daughter Solomiia. They did not leave the city either during the occupation or after the liberation. "We have never dreamed of living anywhere else," says Valentyna.

During the occupation, the family tried to find at least some kind of routine to keep them going.

"Walking with the dog then became an opportunity to experience a normal life," Valentyna recalls. "Then I started looking for food. At first, there was almost no food, and then the prices became sky-high. People from the neighboring villages helped us out a lot: they brought homemade milk and cheese, and they still had Ukrainian terminals."

Valentyna's daughter Solomiia does not know what peaceful Kherson was like. She did not walk along the banks of the Dnipro River, as most citizens did before the full-scale war. Her Kherson is completely different than it was in her mother's childhood.

A typical family day nowadays begins with household chores: walking the dog, sitting Solomiya down for an online class, or taking her to a safe space in the basement, the only place where Kherson residents can feel more or less safe. Then there is work: Valentyna is a journalist, and her husband works at the theater and university.

The city has shops, hospitals, pharmacies, electricity and water. But recently, the situation has become more complicated again, with more shelling and drone attacks.

"But there are places where it's even worse," says Valentyna. "There is the occupation, where people are left without protection.

Despite the constant danger, the family tries to remain calm and maintain a sense of normalcy. Valentyna says that anxiety always accompanies the people of Kherson, but she has learned to live with it. The woman finds support in her family, work and daily routines, which give her a sense of life. She says that the main thing is not to stop, to move forward at your own pace, filling the day with usual activities as much as possible. Valentyna believes that Kherson will never be filled with life without people.

"Being at home," she says, "means believing in the best and enjoying the moment.

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Three years after its liberation, Kherson remains under constant shelling, with infrastructure problems and tens of thousands of people who have not left.

For some, it is a place of service, for others a place of memory, for others a home. The people who remain in Kherson are the face of a city that has not been at peace, but has remained free. For most of the locals, November 11 is the Day of Liberation and the hope that the rest of the region will eventually gain freedom as well.

However, Kherson residents cannot celebrate this day on the main square of the city, Svobody Square, because Russian troops are targeting places of mass gatherings. So for now, it's an intimate anniversary, where families and friends gather at home or in a shelter. They tell stories, reminisce, or simply remain silent.