Ukrajinski brezpilotniki v največjih ruskih mestih naredijo življenje "nočno moro"

Ukraine’s use of drones has transformed daily life in Russia’s largest cities into a persistent source of fear and disruption, according to residents and analysts. In Moscow, Svetlana*, a woman in her 50s, recalls how her once-hopeful summer trips to a holiday home near the city’s airport have turned into nights filled with explosions. “We had six explosions one night,” she said. The reality of the war, once distant, now strikes close to home, forcing citizens to confront the conflict directly. For years, the impact of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine was largely confined to the eastern regions and military fronts. However, the emergence of Ukrainian drones capable of targeting locations deep within Russia has changed this dynamic. These unmanned aerial vehicles have begun hitting infrastructure, including oil refineries and warehouses, disrupting essential services and creating widespread hardship. The consequences extend beyond physical damage, affecting economic stability and mental well-being. In St. Petersburg, a fire broke out at a Wildberries warehouse, one of the largest e-commerce platforms in Russia. This incident highlights the broader toll of drone attacks on commercial operations. Wildberries accounts for approximately 10 percent of the nation’s retail trade, and its warehouses serve as critical hubs for small businesses reliant on the platform. When these facilities are hit, the ripple effect is severe, stock is lost, delivery times increase, and consumer confidence erodes. Residents describe a growing sense of unease. Svetlana notes that many young people are turning to antidepressants or alcohol to cope with the stress of ongoing uncertainty. “It has become so difficult to cope with the whole situation,” she says. The psychological strain is compounded by rising costs and limited access to basic goods. Fuel shortages have led to long lines at petrol stations, while inflation continues to eat away at purchasing power. The economic and social fallout is evident in everyday life. Prices for essentials have surged, and travel, even within the country, has become fraught with difficulty. Citizens report heightened anxiety, with some questioning the purpose of the war. A recent survey by the Levada Centre, an independent polling organization labeled a “foreign agent” by the Kremlin, found that Russians’ overall sentiment toward the economy has deteriorated. The Consumer Sentiment Index (CSI) fell to 94 points in June, marking the lowest level in nearly four years. Anything below 100 indicates that negative emotions outweigh positive ones. Putin’s approval rating, according to the same survey, has also declined to its lowest point since the start of the invasion, though it still stands at 74 percent, a figure that would be enviable for many world leaders. Meanwhile, another poll conducted by Russia’s Public Opinion Foundation suggests that anxiety is becoming the dominant emotional state in many communities. The findings reflect a growing disconnect between the government’s narrative and the lived experiences of ordinary citizens. John Lough, a senior research fellow at the NEST Centre, which studies Russia, acknowledges the shift in public mood. “What is the point of this war? That’s the question Russians are increasingly asking,” he said. Despite efforts by state-controlled media to frame challenges such as fuel shortages as temporary disruptions caused by maintenance issues or seasonal demand, the underlying reality remains grim. As the war enters its fifth year, the pressure on both sides continues to mount. For Russians in major cities, the war is no longer a distant conflict, it is a tangible presence, reshaping their lives in ways that are increasingly difficult to ignore.