Occupied and Forgotten: Voices from Ukraine’s Russian-Held Territories

In the shadow of the full-scale war, vast swathes of Ukraine remain under Russian occupation — places where the Ukrainian state has been forcibly erased, where the rule of law has collapsed, and where daily life is marked by fear, deprivation, and silence. These are the Russian-held territories of Luhansk, Donetsk, Zaporizhzhia, Kherson, and Crimea, where millions once lived as citizens of a sovereign Ukraine but now find themselves trapped in a twilight of repression and propaganda. Their voices rarely reach the outside world. Cut off from Kyiv, severed from Western media, they survive under the control of an occupying power determined to impose its own narrative and rewrite their identities.

Here we explore the lives and struggles of those Ukrainians who remain behind the occupation lines. Through testimonies from escapees, intercepted communications and reports by human rights organisations, we can begin to glimpse the reality of occupation: a system of surveillance, coercion, and forced assimilation designed not only to hold territory, but to dismantle the very idea of Ukraine in the minds of its people.

A Life Under Watch

The most immediate feature of life under Russian control is the pervasive fear of the state. In towns such as Melitopol, Tokmak, and Henichesk, local administrations have been replaced by Moscow-appointed officials, backed by armed personnel from the FSB (Russia's Federal Security Service). Ukrainian flags have been torn down, replaced with Russian tricolours and portraits of Vladimir Putin. Streets are patrolled by soldiers who demand to see documents, search homes, and arrest anyone suspected of harbouring pro-Ukrainian sentiment.

Local residents describe living under constant surveillance. Phones are regularly checked for traces of contact with relatives in Ukrainian-controlled areas. A casual remark, a Ukrainian patriotic symbol, or even liking a social media post, can result in detention or worse. Many civilians have learned to live in silence, lowering their voices when speaking of the war, hiding Ukrainian books and memorabilia, and deleting entire histories from their phones.

The Machinery of Propaganda

In occupied towns and cities, the Russian state media machine operates at full capacity. Schools are forced to teach a Russian curriculum that denies Ukrainian history and identity. Children are told that Russia has “liberated” them from “Nazis” in Kyiv. Ukrainian television and radio are jammed, replaced with Kremlin-controlled channels that broadcast a steady stream of disinformation about the war, the West, and life in Ukraine.

Billboards, posters, and graffiti push the same message: “Russia is here forever”. In Crimea and Mariupol, this slogan is painted on public walls and bus shelters, designed to convey the inevitability of annexation. Yet beneath the surface, resistance persists. Ukrainian-language leaflets and graffiti occasionally appear overnight, only to be removed or painted over within hours.

Coercion and Forced Assimilation

The occupation is not merely military but demographic. Russian authorities have introduced their own passport system, pressuring residents to accept Russian citizenship to access essential services such as healthcare, pensions, or even basic utilities. Without a Russian passport, many find themselves unable to work or travel. Those who refuse are labelled “disloyal” and face harassment or discrimination.

The situation is particularly dire for Ukrainian teachers, journalists and former public officials. Many have been detained, interrogated, or “disappeared” — a term used when people vanish after being taken by Russian forces, often to secret detention centres. Human rights monitors have documented instances of torture, forced confessions and extrajudicial killings.

Crimea offers a grim blueprint for what happens when occupation becomes entrenched. Since 2014, the peninsula has undergone a systematic Russification. Ukrainian-language schools have virtually disappeared, independent media has been silenced, and thousands of Crimean Tatars — the indigenous Muslim population — have been harassed or imprisoned. The same pattern is now unfolding in occupied parts of southern Ukraine.

Economy and Survival

The war has destroyed much of the local economy in occupied areas. Factories and farms that once exported goods to the rest of Ukraine now operate under Russian control, if they operate at all. Shops are short of goods, and prices are often double those in Ukrainian-controlled areas. Fuel shortages are common, and healthcare facilities are stripped of resources. Many hospitals are now reserved primarily for Russian military casualties, leaving civilians with limited access to medical care.

Cash is scarce. Russian rubles have replaced the hryvnia, but wages are irregular or non-existent. For many families, survival depends on bartering, growing vegetables, or relying upon remittances sent by relatives abroad. The destruction of infrastructure — roads, bridges and power grids — has left many villages effectively isolated.

Resistance and Defiance

Despite these hardships, resistance is not extinguished. In towns like Berdyansk and Mariupol, clandestine pro-Ukrainian networks operate, smuggling information, distributing leaflets, and coordinating with Ukrainian partisans. Acts of sabotage — targeting Russian military supply routes or administrative offices — are reported frequently. Even small gestures, such as wearing blue and yellow ribbons or singing Ukrainian songs in private gatherings, carry symbolic weight.

Escape is another form of defiance. Thousands have risked their lives to cross the front lines or flee through third countries like Georgia or Poland. Many leave everything behind, travelling under cover of night and facing the danger of being arrested at Russian checkpoints. Those who succeed often become the voices of the occupied — speaking to journalists, NGOs, and international bodies about the atrocities they witnessed.

The Silence Beyond the Front

While the plight of occupied territories is known in Ukraine and amongst her allies, it is often overshadowed by the immediate drama of the front lines. International media coverage tends to focus on active combat zones — on battles for Bakhmut, Avdiivka, or the Zaporizhzhia counteroffensive. Life under occupation, by contrast, is harder to document. Internet access is restricted, journalists are banned, and those who speak out face arrest.

This invisibility is part of Russia’s strategy. By isolating these territories, the Kremlin seeks to normalise their control, slowly erasing the traces of Ukrainian sovereignty. The longer these areas remain under occupation, the more difficult their reintegration will become — not just logistically, but psychologically and culturally.

The Road to Liberation

For Ukraine, the liberation of occupied territories is both a military and humanitarian imperative. The stories emerging from liberated towns such as Kherson and Izium — stories of torture chambers, mass graves, and systemic abuse — underscore the cost of leaving civilians under Russian rule. Every month of occupation deepens the trauma and widens the gulf between those who remained and those who fled.

International pressure, sanctions and military aid are essential in shortening the timeline of occupation. But equally important is the promise of justice and reconstruction. Ukrainians who have endured occupation will need not only infrastructure but also trust — trust that the state will protect them, that their suffering will be acknowledged, and that collaborators will face fair trials.

Remembering the Forgotten

The occupied territories are not just lost pieces of land; they are living communities of people trapped between two nations and two futures. Their voices — smuggled out in telephone calls, whispered over encrypted apps, or carried by those who escape — remind the world that war is not just fought in trenches but in kitchens, schools and city squares under the weight of an alien flag.

To forget them would be to cede to Russia’s strategy of erasure. To remember them — and to listen to their voices — is to affirm that Ukraine’s struggle is not only about borders and sovereignty but also about people, identity, and the right to live free from fear. As long as these territories remain occupied, Ukraine’s victory will be incomplete, and the pain of their silence will remain a wound at the heart of the nation.