From her 16th-floor apartment, Mariia watches the Black Sea not for its beauty, but for the buzzing death that rises from its waters every twilight.

Odesa, the pearl of the Black Sea, has become a city of insomnia. As Russia’s invasion drags into its fourth year, the strategy has shifted to relentless attrition. Moscow is pummeling the port city with motorcycle-sized drones, aiming to break the spirit of residents who, like Mariia and her nine-year-old daughter Eva, have nowhere else to run.

"She Know the Sound of Danger"

It is a heartbreaking reality when a nine-year-old can distinguish between a surveillance drone and a kamikaze drone by the hum of its engine. "Eva has a list of Telegram channels she checks," her father Sergii explains. "She knows the shapes. It calms her to know what is coming."

The family, originally refugees from occupied Kherson, thought Odesa would be a sanctuary. Instead, it is a frontline. The drones don't just hit the port; they slam into high-rises, shattering glass and lives. The fear of being buried under one's own home is a constant companion.

• The Economic Chokehold: The attacks are calculated. By targeting energy and port infrastructure, Russia is trying to strangle Ukraine’s economy. Every grain silo hit is a blow to global food security, felt as far away as Mombasa.
• Resilience vs Exhaustion: "We see the fires," Mariia says quietly. The stoicism of Ukrainians is legendary, but even steel bends. The psychological toll of nightly air raids is creating a generation of children who associate the sunset with terror.

The View from the Window

As the world’s attention drifts to other conflicts, Odesa bleeds in the dark. Mariia’s window offers a panoramic view of a war that refuses to end. They stay because it is home, and because in 2026, safety is a luxury that no refugee can afford.