KYIV, Ukraine (AP) — Residents of Kyiv’s historic Lukianivka neighborhood share a dark joke: Russian strikes hit the area so frequently, they ought to be issued military service documents as though they are living on the front line of the war.
Real estate agent Dmytro Zhekov acknowledges the danger up front when he tries to draw prospective renters to one of the Ukrainian capital's most frequently bombed areas. In his sales pitch on social media, he highlights
the neighborhood’s many virtues: affordable rents, easy access to the city center, a well-connected metro line and historic landmarks.
“From the beginning I tell them, ‘This is a place in the danger zone. It gets hit regularly. If you are all right with that, then we can see it,’” he said.
The district includes a Soviet-era weapons plant that has become one of Russia’s most frequent targets in Kyiv, with its roof blackened by repeated strikes. Across the street, the Lukianivka metro station, which gives the neighborhood its name, has been hit at least eight times. During air raids, it also serves as a shelter for residents. Craters have become a permanent part of the urban landscape.
Residents no longer ask whether Lukianivka will be hit again, only when. Living in the neighborhood means reopening businesses beside the charred ruins of a market, cutting hair in buildings scarred by shrapnel, moving theater performances underground and choosing to rebuild rather than leave.
Between strikes, people sweep up shattered glass, board up blown-out windows and try to carry on. After another Russian missile barrage on Sunday, the routine began again.
“After every attack, I walk down the main street, and it feels like watching a wound widen,” resident Vladyslav Darmohrai said.
Lukianivka's main thoroughfare, Dehtiarivska Street, follows part of the ancient Via Regia, the medieval trade route that carried merchants into Kyiv for centuries.
The neighborhood later grew into a working-class district of factories, markets and the Lukianivka prison, whose inmates have included former Prime Minister Yulia Tymoshenko, who was incarcerated for 2½ years for striking a gas deal with Russia in a case that was largely viewed as retribution by her political rival, then-President Viktor Yanukovych.
Successive eras, from the Soviet industrial period to Ukrainian independence and, now, the repeated Russian bombardment, have continued to shape the neighborhood, which now includes renters displaced by the war.
Ukraine’s first McDonald’s, which opened in Lukianivka in 1997, became an early symbol of that postindependence rebirth. Today, customers eat there beneath a plastic sign permanently warped by the heat of Russian strikes.
“It’s part of our history now,” said historian Kyrylo Stepanets.
The neighborhood's role as a crossroads gave rise to Lukianivka’s iconic market, which had served residents since the late 19th century until it was destroyed in a Russian strike on May 24.
It's now a charred maze of kiosks, frozen in the moment of the attack. Blackened loaves of bread still sit on the shelves of what was once a bakery.
For many residents, the market lives on in childhood memories of parents and grandparents leading them hand in hand through its crowded aisles to buy fruit, flowers and everyday necessities.
Alyona Lukianets, 32, spent 11 years building her produce business there. After the strike, she returned to find her stall reduced to ashes. Weeks later, she went back to work.
Her new stall, assembled from wooden pallets and tarpaulins outside the market’s ruins, bears little resemblance to the one she lost. Every morning she still lines up baskets of berries and fresh vegetables with the same care. The acrid smell of the destroyed market behind her sometimes still hangs in the air.
“I don’t know what it will take for us to leave this place,” Lukianets said. “We are unmovable.”
Julia Sosnovska had wanted a dog ever since she moved into her apartment in Lukianivka in 2022.
For years, her landlords refused. But after a devastating Russian strike in May, they finally relented, and a brown dog named Perry entered the young professional’s life.
Displaced when Russia took control of the southern city of Mariupol, Sosnovska chose Lukianivka for its affordable rents, despite knowing her apartment overlooked the Artem weapons factory.
Rents in Lukianivka start at less than $200 for a studio apartment. The cheapest one- and two-bedroom units can be had for around $270 and $310, respectively.
Founded in the late 19th century as an industrial machinery plant, the Artem plant evolved into one of the Soviet Union’s leading arms manufacturers before becoming an important part of Ukraine’s defense industry after independence. It expanded production after Russian-backed forces began seizing territory in eastern Ukraine in 2014.
Following the Kremlin's full-scale invasion, the factory became one of Moscow’s top targets in the capital. Russia believes the factory is still producing weapons. Ukraine has not confirmed that claim, and wartime restrictions bar officials from discussing military manufacturing.
If weapons are still made there, residents wonder whether it would be safer to move the production line elsewhere. But few people believe relocating to another part of Kyiv would make much difference because Russian missiles have struck all of the city's districts.
Instead, people have grown accustomed to cleaning up after strikes. Some property owners even keep spare panes of glass in storage, said Zhekov, the real estate agent.
When the latest Russian strikes landed, Sosnovska awoke Sunday to a blinding flash outside her bedroom window, followed by the crash of shattering glass.
Her first instinct was to find Perry, who had bolted from her bed in panic. Clutching the trembling dog, along with her documents and laptop, Sosnovska joined neighbors sheltering in the basement parking garage as more explosions reverberated.
By dawn, her apartment windows had been blown out and her car damaged. She considered herself fortunate. “Glass is the least you can lose in these attacks,” she said.
She chooses to stay in Lukianivka.
“Where else would I go? You never know which place will be next,” she said.
Vitalii Zhdaniuk opened a barber school in Lukianivka because he loved the neighborhood. The building is pockmarked with shrapnel, and a chunk of brick hurled from a neighboring auto repair shop during a Russian strike last year remains embedded in the wall.
“No matter how many missiles fly here,” he said, “I’ll stay.”
Tucked behind Lukianivka metro station is the Mala Opera, a theater that has long shaped Kyiv's cultural life. The risk of missile strikes has pushed performances underground, leaving the grand auditorium empty.
It is here that Director Mykhailo Miskun is staging his latest production.
“When the war began, we set ourselves one task: to perform comedies,” Miskun said. “We want to lift the spirits of the people who come to us.”
His latest play revolves around sex, relationships and feuding neighbors, subjects chosen deliberately to offer audiences a brief escape from the war.
The company has adapted to the attacks by holding rehearsals online and gathering in smaller spaces. After a recent Russian strike, the troupe briefly considered leaving.
They decided to stay “despite everything,” Miskun said.
Outside, theatergoers queue to descend into the basement, where the evening’s performance is about to begin.
“We live. We create. We give birth,” Miskun said. “Just like any part of Ukraine, Lukianivka is also being restored and continues to live.”
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Associated Press journalist Vasilisa Stepanenko contributed.
