Ukraine, Four Years On: Resisting Is Also Rebuilding
This Sunday, the newspaper ARA publishes the feature “A Fight Without Weapons”, highlighting the voices of Ukrainian civil resistance on the fourth anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion. The report draws on the network of organisations and testimonies with which NOVACT has been working consistently on the ground.
Carlos Bodoque, NOVACT’s Project Officer in Ukraine, accompanied the journalist during the trip and shares his own account here. It offers a direct perspective on what it means to live and resist in a country enduring a prolonged war.
Kyiv: Normality Under Attack
Arriving in Ukraine for the sixth time since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion, the sirens and military checkpoints no longer have the initial shock. What strikes you instead is something else: the normality of living under systematic attacks. People continue going to work, public transport runs, cafés open… And at the same time, the war permeates everything.
This trip, made possible thanks to funding from the Barcelona City Council, had a clear objective: to listen, to learn and to strengthen alliances with local actors who, amid armed aggression, defend human rights, reinforce community ties and work to strengthen democratic participation. But beyond the formal agenda, what I take away is a sustained lesson in dignity.
In Kyiv, the days were intense. Frozen streets and temperatures dropping to -22 degrees Celsius did not make everyday life feel “normal.” We met with partner organisations: Sasha Romantsova from the Center for Civil Liberties; Igor Semyvolos from the Ukrainian School of Peacebuilding; Mariya Levonova from the Centre for United Actions; Mykola Davydyuk from Factor Bureau… All of them now friends, and our conversations no longer revolve only around professional projects but also around personal matters and the harshness of enduring winter under systematic attacks on the country’s energy infrastructure. All this while air raid alarms, especially missile alerts, interrupted conversations and forced us into improvised shelters.
In the evenings, as darkness fell, was when you felt the war most closely in the capital. It was during those hours that air raid sirens could be heard, along with the sound of drones and missiles striking the city. In fact, from the hotel there were several nights when I saw drones being shot down by the Ukrainian army seconds before crashing into a residential building.
Bucha: The Wounded Territory
In Bucha, the name itself carries weight. It is impossible not to remember what happened there during the Russian occupation in 2022. But this time we were there to talk about another dimension of the war: environmental destruction.
Together with activists from the organisation Green Bucha and staff from the City Council, we visited forested areas affected by fighting, remains of ammunition, contaminated soils and damaged water infrastructure. War not only kills people; it also destroys ecosystems, contaminates aquifers and turns forests into minefields. According to data from the Ukrainian Ministry of Environment, thousands of hectares have been affected by fires, explosions and toxic waste.
What stands out is the capacity for local organisation: environmental damage mapping, community efforts to restore natural spaces… In Bucha I understood that defending the territory is also a form of civil resistance.
Building community in Kherson. Ukrainian cultural centre.
Kherson: Living Under Constant Fire
Reaching Kherson from Kyiv is not just a geographical journey; it is a shift in atmosphere. The trip begins at the railway station in Mykolaiv, just over an hour away by car. We step off the train and, before we can get our bearings, an air raid alarm breaks out with a long, metallic sound that cuts through everything.
Station staff direct us to the shelter. We walk down narrow stairs into an improvised underground space. Wooden benches, thick walls, irregular signal coverage. People wait in silence, with a disarming sense of normality.
When the alarm stops, life resumes quickly. From Mykolaiv we continue to Kherson by road. As we approach the city, after crossing a road lined with fishing nets to protect against drone attacks, military and Ukrainian security service checkpoints increase.
Kherson, liberated from Russian occupation in November 2022, remains under almost daily fire from the opposite bank of the Dnipro River. The proximity of Russian forces makes the city a constant target of artillery and drones. The result is visible: wide streets almost deserted, buildings with boarded-up windows, façades marked by impacts and destroyed buildings.
What is most striking is that the city feels suspended. On the streets there are only people making short, necessary trips: going to the supermarket, buying medicine… No one strolls. No one lingers longer than necessary. Movements are reduced. Conversations are brief. In Kherson, public space is not a place of gathering; it is a space of transit.
We spoke with activists such as Denys Sukhanov, who at the beginning of the Russian occupation organised humanitarian aid distribution for those most in need. I had the privilege of taking part in a session of the Mafia game that Denys organises with people from the city to stay connected. They explained how they plan these role-playing sessions weekly in different parts of the city, knowing that sirens may sound at any moment. The logistics of daily life are calculated according to risk.
What has stayed with me is not a major event, but the silence. A strange silence for a city of this size. No heavy traffic, no full terraces, no urban noise. Just snow, ice and wind, an occasional vehicle, and from time to time, the reminder that everything can change in seconds.
Sumy: Sustaining Life Under Threat
The city lives under the recurrent threat of missile and drone attacks, and this affects every personal decision in daily life. Walking through the city with members of Dobrobat, volunteers specialised in emergency repairs, they showed us residential buildings that had been hit. Perforated façades, shattered windows, collapsed balconies. But also boarded-up windows, protective plastic sheets, teams working to seal cracks before the harshest cold arrives.
Dobrobat’s volunteer team acts quickly: they secure structures, cover openings, repair roofs. It is not definitive reconstruction; it is immediate protection so that families can continue living there. Each sealed window is a barrier against the cold, and each reinforced façade is a step towards preventing forced displacement.
One of the most striking visits was to a children’s hospital. Healthcare professionals continued working in adapted basements without natural light. There were daily births there. Ensuring a hospital can function under these conditions is an affirmation of rights. It is saying that, despite the attacks, life and health remain priorities.
In this context, we also visited the Barsa sports complex in Sumy, inspired by Messi’s Barça. It may seem anecdotal in a war chronicle, but it is not. Seeing young people training, running after a ball, is a powerful image.
The centre has adapted security protocols, has spaces prepared as shelters and coordinates schedules according to the risk of alerts. But it remains open. Life continues. Sport here is much more than physical activity: it is community, it is a moment when the dominant sound is that of a ball and not that of a missile.
Destroyed residential building in Sumy. Dobrobat volunteer and Cristina Mas, journalist from ARA.
Resisting Is Also Rebuilding
Ukraine is living through a devastating war, but it has also become a laboratory of civil resistance. If these days have taught me anything, it is that even under bombs, there are those who refuse to give up on life or dignity.
And that, in itself, is already a form of victory.
Today, Ukrainian civil resistance is an essential pillar in sustaining rights and community in the midst of war. Giving voice to these initiatives is part of NOVACT’s commitment to nonviolence and human security.
This Sunday, ARA’s feature also includes some of the testimonies gathered during this journey.