‘We need real peace’: Easter truce fails to lift grim mood in war-torn Ukraine

The Orthodox Easter ceasefire between Russia and Ukraine began on Saturday, but just 38 minutes later, air raid alarms echoed across the Kharkiv region in northeastern Ukraine. Despite the agreement, military and civilian reports noted several breaches along the frontlines, though no long-range missiles or drones were launched during the pause. The truce, set to last until Easter Monday, aims to offer respite after four years of relentless conflict. Yet, the moment of calm was short-lived, with tensions already rising.

A Church of Resilience

In the heart of Kharkiv, families gathered at St John the Theologian Church to prepare for the holiday. They brought Easter cakes, painted eggs, and sausage for blessings, lining up to receive holy water from the priest. The service, usually held just before midnight, took place mid-afternoon due to ongoing curfews. Fr Viktor, reflecting on the truce, questioned its reliability. “Do you believe them?” he asked, hinting at the fragile trust between the nations.

Fighting from the Shadows

Meanwhile, in a training area 12 miles from the Russian border, members of the Yasni Ochi strike UAV unit, part of the Khartia corps, tested new equipment. They loaded kamikaze drones with explosives and practiced precision attacks. Their commander, Heorhiy, instructed his troops to remain alert unless under direct assault. “Russia says one thing, then does the other,” he explained. “You have to be ready.” Despite the brief ceasefire, the unit continued sending Easter treats—cakes and alcohol-free wine—to comrades at the front via drone.

Heorhiy emphasized that Ukraine cannot afford to pause until it secures better terms in negotiations. “We need real peace talks,” he stated, citing the Middle East conflict as a recent example of global support for Ukraine’s drone technology. However, the U.S.-led peace initiative has stalled, with Trump’s envoys focused on Iran instead. Ukraine remains steadfast in its demand for stronger security guarantees from allies, particularly assurances about a potential Russian resurgence.

Life Amid Ruins

Back in Kharkiv, the city’s ring road is now draped in netting to intercept Russian drones. Yet, this measure offers little protection against missile strikes hitting residential areas. In a suburb, a five-storey block was reduced to rubble last month, killing 11 people in their sleep. Survivors like Olha recall the chaos: “You expect to die every second,” she said. “This truce is only 1.5 days, but at least we can rest a bit.” Nearby, a red rug and photographs of the deceased remain as haunting reminders of the war’s toll.

“We really want peace. No one chooses war, but it’s forced upon us,” Olha added, her voice trembling. The story of her neighbor’s tragedy underscores the desperate hope for a truce, even as the frontlines continue to churn.

For many, the Easter truce symbolizes both a fleeting pause and a fragile optimism. As the war drags on, the line between hope and caution grows thinner. “We used to have a good civilian life,” Heorhiy recalled, noting that some of his unit were once DJs in Dnipro’s underground music scene. Now, they are the frontline’s silent defenders, ready for whatever comes next.