“Here, the Russians are trying to erase everything Ukrainian—our language, our customs, even our holidays are banned.”
These are the painful words of Maria (not her real name), a resident of Russian-occupied Ukraine who spoke to the BBC. Her story is part of a broader, often hidden reality faced by people living under occupation, as the war drags on and international negotiations for peace continue.
In areas under Russian control, strict restrictions have been imposed to suppress Ukrainian identity. Locals say dissent is punished harshly, and surveillance is increasing. Many now fear that Kyiv might be forced to give up parts of these occupied territories as part of a future peace deal.
Contacting people in these regions is incredibly dangerous. Ukrainian citizens living abroad, like Sofia—whose parents remain in occupied Zaporizhzhia—say they are cautious even during phone calls. Sofia recounted how her parents were once searched by the FSB and falsely accused of helping the Ukrainian army. “They were reported by neighbors,” she explained. “Now I read between the lines when we talk.”
Life without Russian identification is becoming nearly impossible, Sofia said, adding that her parents can’t top up their phones or insure their car without accepting Russian citizenship.
Another Ukrainian, Yeva, worries about her sister, who works at the Zaporizhzhia nuclear power plant under Russian control. “When we talk about family, she’s normal. But the moment we talk about serious topics, she changes her tone,” Yeva said, noting that her sister now echoes Russian propaganda, likely out of fear her phone is being monitored.
Kateryna, another Ukrainian interviewed, shared how a friend in occupied Kherson was thrown into a punishment cellar simply for speaking to a relative who supported Ukraine. “I can’t put her at risk by connecting you,” Kateryna said.
Punishment and Fear
Russian-installed authorities have reportedly expanded surveillance with more CCTV cameras and crackdowns on dissenters. According to the human rights group Zmina, at least 121 Ukrainian activists, volunteers, and journalists have been killed during the full-scale invasion—many during the first year.
These acts appear to follow pre-invasion “kill lists” created by Russia. Currently, those under occupation risk punishment for so-called offenses like spreading “false information” or “discrediting” the Russian military. In Crimea alone, more than 1,200 cases have been launched for “discrediting” the army, and over 200 people have been jailed, many of them Crimean Tatars.
Despite the risks, resistance movements persist. One such group, Zla Mavka, is a peaceful, all-female network that distributes anti-occupation posters. In Melitopol, partisans reportedly carry out attacks on Russian troops and their vehicles, while Crimean Tatar resistance group Atesh engages in sabotage. Meanwhile, the Yellow Ribbon movement spreads Ukrainian symbols throughout occupied cities.
Though their impact is difficult to measure due to the lack of independent media in these areas, their continued efforts show a refusal to accept Russian rule.
Erasing Ukrainian Identity
Maria describes how entire city centers are now plastered with Russian propaganda: portraits of Putin, quotes, and flags. Ukrainian and independent media, including the BBC, have been banned. In their place, Kremlin-controlled outlets—staffed by Russians and sometimes local teens—spread the official Russian narrative.
Propaganda begins early. In schools, children are required to take part in classes glorifying the Russian military and even join youth military-style groups like Yunarmia. Textbooks falsely portray Ukraine as a hostile nation manipulated by Western powers.
Moscow’s ultimate goal, Ukrainian officials believe, is full control over Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson, Zaporizhzhia, and Crimea, which was annexed in 2014.
Forced Citizenship
Russian authorities are pressuring residents to take Russian passports, reportedly denying healthcare and restricting movement to those who refuse.
Despite the danger, Maria continues to resist through nonviolent means. She belongs to a women-led underground group distributing newsletters and patriotic leaflets. “You have fear in your eyes, but your hands are still doing it,” she said, quoting a Ukrainian proverb to describe her resolve.
In this heavily monitored and propaganda-saturated environment, even trying to talk to people becomes hazardous. One person from Mariupol, the city captured by Russian forces in 2022 after a brutal siege, told the BBC journalist: “You won’t like what I have to say. People like you kill when you hear the truth.”
Their words reflect the suffocating fear felt across occupied Ukraine—where every conversation, every act of resistance, could cost someone their freedom or their life.
