A Ukraine reporter’s guide to managing wartime blackouts caused by Russia

Have you ever traveled on an aircraft in Kyiv, Ukraine, because you were concerned that the shaking vehicle would collapse and fall to the ground? In brief moments of weightlessness, stop your breath, or pray quietly and remember who you love.

Since Russia’s full-scale invasion began in 2022, there have been more than 1, 800 air raids in Kyiv, Ukraine, since that feeling first sparked by that feeling.

Because each one involves hundreds of drones and dozens of missiles, they are bigger, scarier, and longer than ever.

They usually start at dusk and last until dawn. The night sky is split in half by whooshing missiles. Drones make noise like chainsaws or enormous mosquitoes from childhood flu-related nightmares.

The arrhythmia of two or three drones simultaneously synchronizes with your heartbeat, which is what makes it harrowing. I affectionately refer to this as “stereo” and “Dolby surround.”

Your body is choked with adrenaline by each boom and thud, and some shake your house, but after a few hours your brain stops working, and you sleep through processing the booms as nightmares.

And you wake up in the morning with hungover and disoriented information about the consequences. You’re relieved that no one has died, but you’re depressed because many people are frequently injured and several apartment buildings have been damaged.

I occasionally consider the people who operate the drones and launch missiles. After working overtime, how they tell their children and, most importantly, themselves. How they return to their families.

However, I prefer the memory of a group of high school graduates who passed by my home in June, at dawn, after a particularly long and loud air raid.

Their joy and joy were heightened by the sunrise, the blossoming trees around them, the grass and flower rug under their feet, and the hopeless future. Vladimir Putin, the president of Russia, defied it.

Blackouts have become more frequent with each air raid in recent months. It seems as though Moscow’s plan to terrorize Ukraine only involves keeping millions of people awake and horrified during the raids.

Moscow’s logical strategy seems straightforward: you must surrender. To keep millions of people without electricity, light, and heat, it methodically destroys transmission lines, central heating lines, and transmission lines.

There are also “planned outages.” Three sessions are typically three per day, lasting between two and eight.

Even the smallest of sounds, like the refrigerator’s purring or the hot water flowing through the heating system, are out of your ears. Because the neighborhood lights go out, the stars in the night sky become brighter and closer, causing an outage.

How to get out of the darkness

Gadgets can save you from isolation and isolation.

There are batteries-powered laptops, tablets, wireless speakers, and vacuum cleaners in addition to smartphones with energy-saving modes, wi-fi hotspots, and flashlights.

I have ten rechargeable lamps, all of which are inexpensive. My mother would enjoy reading three of them, pint-sized and bright. The cat is constantly amazed and three more have motion-activated features, which means she can use the bathroom at any time.

Two tiny lamps that can be inserted into a power bank and just glow in the corner help me cook or find something in the basement.

Additionally, each outage is accompanied by a festive Christmas garland in the kitchen.

The most crucial component of my powerless house is a $1,200, 20 kg (40 lbs) battery that can keep us energized and warm for up to 12 hours.

In a newly renovated summer house with its own pump and natural gas heating system, I reside on the outskirts of Kyiv. Along with the two 50-gallon (13-gallon) water heaters, both require electricity.

We rely on frying pans and an old-fashioned whistling kettle to scare the cat because boiling water and microwaving meals are too energy-consuming.

There is no room for procrastination when the power is turned back on.

Without risking your life while using the traffic lights off, you must recharge all the lights and equipment, start a washing machine, wash the dishes, and go shopping.

Sometimes, the electricity’s comeback is too weak, which may be misleading. A bowl of soup was recently left cold after I twice attempted to microwave it.

I also have a gasoline-powered generator for extreme emergencies. It’s loud, shaky, and stinky, and you need a $30 gas canister to keep it going all night.

However, Ukraine is maintained by these generators.

They are visible next to apartment buildings, offices, and stores. Some are too big and heavy to be carried away, while others are chained to walls or trees to prevent theft.

A massive diesel generator kept the concert hall running during a recent music festival honoring Ukrainian composers.

I am always online because my internet provider activates them right away after an interruption.

When you go out, you must also be prepared.

I used to make everyone angrier with my “I’ve got to be ready for any emergency obsession after covering the Russian war in Georgia in 2008.

Now, Ukraine is obsessed with the same thing.

The phone must be fully charged. In my backpack, I need a power bank, along with a basic first aid kit, a flashlight (I don’t smoke), extra batteries for my phone, pens, and a pencil to take notes in freezing cold conditions.

I used the lighter at Kyiv’s Independence Square, which had hundreds of tiny Ukrainian flags next to photos of fallen soldiers, a few months ago.

A young man who was a toddler lit a tiny candle that he wanted to display next to his younger brother’s picture.

Source: Aljazeera