In the occupied Ukrainian town of Oleshky, roughly 6,000 civilians — among them 180 children — endure what administrators are calling a famine, as food deliveries have ceased since May and the infrastructure of daily survival has been methodically stripped away. The town, already devastated by the 2023 Kakhovka Dam flood, now exists without electricity, gas, running water, or reliable medicine, while the roads out are laced with landmines and the diplomatic corridors meant to offer escape remain sealed by Russian inaction. Preliminary agreements between Kyiv and Moscow to establish humanitaria
Famine Grips Occupied Oleshky as Russia Blocks Evacuation Corridor
You can't just call this starvation. It's a famine.
So the food stopped arriving in May. That's four months ago now. How are people actually surviving?
They're not surviving well. A woman told me her lunch was flatbread with applesauce and unsweetened tea. People trade whatever they have—a mother gave up 2.5 kilos of sugar for ten eggs. In the market, zucchini costs ten euros a kilo.
But where is that food coming from if supplies were cut off? If prices are that high, someone is selling something.
People are selling from their own gardens, or they're walking twenty kilometers south to a village called Radensk to buy what they can find. It's not a functioning supply system—it's desperation trading.
And leaving? Is that possible?
Technically, yes. You walk another twenty kilometers to a village called Tarasivka, and from there you can get to Skadovsk. But the route is heavily mined. Two women died trying to get food that way.
So we know two deaths from mines. Do we know how many people have been injured by mines in total?
The resident I spoke to said "scores" have been injured. But there's no exact count, and the hospital can't treat them properly anyway—no anesthesiologist, no medicine.
What about the evacuation that was supposed to happen?
Talks started last spring. Ukraine's human rights commissioner identified 358 people who needed urgent evacuation. There were preliminary agreements—Ukraine would provide a ceasefire, the Red Cross would help. But Russia hasn't reaffirmed it's willing to proceed.
For how long has Russia not reaffirmed?
"For quite some time," according to the ombudsman. The article doesn't give an exact timeline, but it's been months.
And the people there now—what are they expecting?
Nothing. The administrator told me residents had hope that evacuation would start any moment. But that hope is gone. She said she can't give them any hope at all.
Der Puls
- Food deliveries to Oleshky stopped in May, and what remains is rationed in spoonfuls — hospital patients now receive one and a half spoonfuls of watery semolina as a meal.
- A kilogram of zucchini costs the equivalent of ten euros, two women have already died trying to reach food on mined roads, and scores more have been injured with no anesthesiologist or medicine to treat them.
- Evacuation negotiations began in 2023 and produced preliminary agreements, but Russia has not reaffirmed its willingness to proceed, leaving 358 identified urgent cases — and likely many more — with no viable exit.
- The routes out require crossing forty kilometers of mined terrain on foot or bicycle, and residents without passports or cash face additional barriers even if the roads were safe.
- Ukrainian officials warn the situation has crossed into famine and is becoming a death trap, calling for immediate international intervention before winter forecloses what little margin for survival remains.
In the occupied Ukrainian town of Oleshky, roughly 6,000 civilians — among them 180 children — endure what administrators are calling a famine, as food deliveries have ceased since May and the infrastructure of daily survival has been methodically stripped away. The town, already devastated by the 2023 Kakhovka Dam flood, now exists without electricity, gas, running water, or reliable medicine, while the roads out are laced with landmines and the diplomatic corridors meant to offer escape remain sealed by Russian inaction. Preliminary agreements between Kyiv and Moscow to establish humanitarian evacuation routes have gone unreaffirmed, leaving those inside to barter sugar for eggs and flour for survival, as winter draws closer and the officials who monitor them from afar confess they can offer no hope.
A man in Oleshky photographs his soup — vegetable scraps, millet, two eggs his mother bartered 2.5 kilograms of sugar to obtain — and sends the image to Tetiana Hasanenko, who runs the city's military administration from Ukrainian-controlled territory. He notes there is asparagus today. It is meant to be good news.
Hasanenko receives messages like this every day. Food deliveries to Oleshky stopped at the end of May. The town has been under Russian occupation since February 2022 and was nearly destroyed when the Kakhovka Dam was breached in June 2023. Now, with winter approaching, approximately 6,000 people remain — including 180 children — with no electricity, no gas, no running water, and dwindling food. 'You can't just call this starvation,' Hasanenko told Deutsche Welle. 'It's a famine.'
A resident named Halyna described her day: by lunchtime, she had eaten nothing. Her plan was flatbread with applesauce and sugarless tea. In the market square, open only between 7 and 9 in the morning, a kilogram of zucchini costs 1,000 rubles — roughly ten euros. A large sack of flour sold for 200,000 rubles. The minibuses that once carried food south were struck by drones; the ambulances that replaced them stopped running after a driver was killed.
To reach food, residents walk or bicycle twenty kilometers to a neighboring village. Evacuation requires forty kilometers across heavily mined roads. Two women died attempting exactly that journey. Scores more have been injured by mines, but Oleshky's hospital has a surgeon and no anesthesiologist, no medicine. 'If your leg is blown off, you're as good as dead,' Halyna said.
Evacuation talks have been ongoing since last spring. Ukraine's human rights commissioner Dmytro Lubinets identified 358 people in urgent need of evacuation — a figure he acknowledged was likely far lower than the true number. Preliminary agreements were reached: Ukraine would hold a ceasefire, the Red Cross would assist. But Russia, Lubinets said, 'has not reaffirmed its willingness' to proceed. Months have passed. The mines remain. Winter is coming. 'I can't give them any hope at all,' Hasanenko said.
In the occupied town of Oleshky, in Ukraine's southern Kherson region, a man photographs a bowl of soup he has made from whatever he could find—vegetable scraps, millet, two eggs bartered at enormous cost. His mother traded 2.5 kilograms of sugar to get them. He sends the photo to Tetiana Hasanenko, who runs the Oleshky City Military Administration from Ukrainian-controlled territory, and tells her there is asparagus in the borsch today, no cabbage. It is meant to be good news.
Hasanenko receives messages like this every day. Food deliveries to Oleshky stopped at the end of May. The town has been under Russian occupation since the beginning of the full-scale invasion in February 2022, and it was nearly destroyed in June 2023 when the Kakhovka Dam was breached, flooding the area almost entirely. Now, as another winter approaches, about 6,000 people remain there, including 180 children. They have no electricity, no gas, no running water. They fetch water from wells. And they are running out of food. "You can't just call this starvation," Hasanenko told Deutsche Welle. "It's a famine."
A resident named Halyna, who asked that her name be changed for safety, described her day at lunchtime: she had eaten nothing. Her plan was flatbread made from water and flour, spread with applesauce, and tea without sugar. People in Oleshky leave their homes only between 7 a.m. and 9 a.m., gathering in the market square to trade what little they have. A kilogram of zucchini costs 1,000 rubles—roughly ten euros or eleven dollars. Someone sold a large sack of flour for 200,000 rubles, a price so inflated that Halyna suspected the seller was trying to raise money to escape. Minibuses that once ran south to Skadovsk and beyond, carrying food and passengers, were attacked by drones. Two ambulances replaced them, but one driver was killed on a trip, and for the past month and a half, no ambulances have run at all.
To buy food, residents walk or bicycle twenty kilometers south to the village of Radensk. To be evacuated, they must reach Tarasivka, another twenty kilometers away, and from there catch a minibus or hitchhike to Skadovsk. The route is heavily mined. "You set out and could die along the way," Halyna said. Two women trying to reach food supplies died exactly that way. Scores of people in Oleshky have been injured by mines and explosive devices, but the town's hospital cannot help them. There is a surgeon but no anesthesiologist and no medicine. "If your leg is blown off, you're as good as dead," Halyna said. Hospital patients who once received soup and baked dough in winter now get one and a half spoonfuls of semolina porridge cooked in water and cold tea.
Evacuation talks have been ongoing since last spring. In 2023, Dmytro Lubinets, Ukraine's parliamentary human rights commissioner, compiled a list of residents who wanted to leave. He identified 358 people who needed urgent evacuation, though he emphasized this was only those he had heard about—the actual number could be much higher among the town's 6,000 residents. "The town has become a death trap," Lubinets said. Preliminary agreements were reached between Kyiv and Moscow: the Ukrainian military would ensure a ceasefire, and the International Committee of the Red Cross would assist with evacuation. But Russia, according to Lubinets, "has not reaffirmed its willingness" to proceed "for quite some time."
Hasanenko says residents had hoped evacuation would begin at any moment. They wanted to believe there was a way out. But months have passed, and Russia has not moved. The occupying authorities could establish what Hasanenko calls a "green corridor" and move people deeper into occupied territory, but they have not done so. Many residents lack either Russian or Ukrainian passports. Many have no cash. The mines remain. Winter is coming. "I can't give them any hope at all," Hasanenko said.
Bemerkenswerte Zitate
The town has become a death trap and these people must be rescued.— Dmytro Lubinets, Ukraine's parliamentary human rights commissioner
I receive reports like this every day. People want to be given some kind of hope, but there is no hope.— Tetiana Hasanenko, head of the Oleshky City Military Administration