On a day that marks the calendar and memory, the people of Ukraine step through the hours with mixed calm and tension. The date, February 24, carries a heavy weight in the minds of many, a reminder of the moment when the invasion began a year ago. Dnipro, a major city in eastern Ukraine, sits about 250 kilometers from the front lines, its streets at once ordinary and charged with the echoes of a distant war. Cafes stay open, daily routines proceed, and the central boulevard remains lined with shops and familiar fast food logos. Local residents answer questions about their lives with a careful restraint, acknowledging fear while choosing to keep going. The day carries a sense of what might come next as Ukraine confronts the anniversary of a conflict that has reshaped life for millions.
In Russia, where officials once promised to favor Ukrainian over their mother tongue, questions about language and allegiance linger. Serhii Probiholov, a computer science student at a regional university, reflects on what could unfold on such a significant day. He imagines a large bombing or disruption to critical infrastructure, noting a pattern that has appeared on past anniversaries. An icy wind sweeps through the streets as the temperature hovers just below freezing. He predicts rockets may fly, even as the city endures with electricity and heating largely functioning and people trying to carry on as best they can.
Serhii Probiholovo is pictured in association with the scene, a reminder of the human voices that shape this moment in history.
Improbable attack on Kiev
Two friends who share Serhii’s outlook, including Stanislav Sukhoruchenko, echo their companion’s cautions about a potential new assault aimed at Kyiv or Kharkiv, echoing the pressure felt a year earlier. One friend doubts an attack on Kyiv is likely, arguing that the armed forces and strategic planning would prevent a northern push. In recent days, high-level meetings have become more frequent, and analysts from the Institute of War Studies suggest the possibility of a renewed front remains plausible but uncertain, with a timeline that could stretch toward the end of the year if it materializes.
From the perspective of a local television station manager, the regional media landscape reflects a wary stance toward language and messaging. The manager, who prefers Ukrainian in interviews, explains a cautious approach to discussing the war publicly. Asked about his emotions on the first anniversary, he replies with a measured, restrained tone, saying that fear is present among families who worry about what the future holds. This sentiment mirrors a broader anxiety about safety and stability across the city.
In describing the climate, another eyewitness notes the dynamics at the regional railway terminal and surrounding neighborhoods. There is a sense that the population is moving toward greater independence from any external influence, with many expressing a desire for no reversion to past alignments. The idea of a truce is seen as a flawed peace by some, and the political currents in the area continue to reflect a long-running debate about sovereignty and security.
Older residents in particular recall a history shaped by the region’s political environment, where loyalties and national identities have been tested repeatedly. Some people advocate for persistence in defending territory and reject concessions that would alter the balance of power. The fear of a Russian victory remains a powerful motivator for those who see an outcome that would change the region’s social and political fabric forever. Everyday conversations emphasize resilience and the costs borne by families, neighbors, and communities as they face the ongoing consequences of the conflict.