Greetings from Kyiv, Where Candles Are the Last Option During Wartime Blackouts

As night falls over Kyiv, the city no longer glows the way it once did. Streetlights flicker sporadically, apartment windows dim quickly, and the familiar hum of urban life is replaced by an uneasy silence broken only by generators and distant air raid sirens. In many neighborhoods, candles have become the last and most reliable source of light during prolonged wartime blackouts.
Ukraine’s capital continues to endure waves of power outages following sustained Russian attacks on the country’s energy infrastructure. Substations, power plants, and transmission lines have been repeatedly targeted, leaving millions of residents with limited or no electricity for hours — sometimes days — at a time. While emergency repairs are carried out around the clock, each new strike pushes the system closer to collapse.
For families across Kyiv, daily routines have been reshaped around the availability of electricity. Mobile phones are charged whenever power briefly returns. Meals are prepared in advance or cooked on gas stoves and portable burners. Elevators stand still in high-rise buildings, forcing elderly residents to climb dark stairwells with flashlights or candles in hand.
“In the evening, when everything goes dark, we light candles and sit quietly,” said Olena, a retired schoolteacher living in the Podil district. “It feels like the city goes back a hundred years. But at least we are together, and that gives us strength.”
A City Adjusts to Darkness
Shops close earlier than before. Restaurants that remain open rely on generators and candlelit tables, creating scenes that resemble romantic dinners but carry an unmistakable tension. Pharmacies ration fuel for backup power to preserve refrigeration for medicines. Hospitals operate under strict energy-saving protocols, prioritizing intensive care units and surgical theaters.
Public transportation is frequently disrupted. The Kyiv Metro, which doubles as a bomb shelter during air raids, runs on reduced schedules when electricity supplies are unstable. Bus stops are packed during peak hours, as commuters try to make it home before sunset.
For many residents, the blackout is not just an inconvenience — it is a reminder that the war remains ever-present.
“You cannot escape it,” said Andriy, a university student. “Even if you don’t hear explosions, the darkness tells you the war is here.”
The Candle Economy
Candles, flashlights, and battery-powered lanterns have become essential items. Small shops that once sold decorative candles now stock large boxes of emergency supplies. Prices have risen sharply, and shelves are often emptied within hours of new deliveries.
Markets across the city sell thick paraffin candles designed to burn for many hours. Some families reuse wax remnants, melting them down to create new ones. Others improvise using jars and cooking oil when supplies run low.
“We never thought candles would become so important,” said Larysa, who runs a small grocery store. “Now they sell faster than bread.”
Alongside candles, power banks and portable solar chargers are in high demand. Residents line up at public charging stations installed by the city council in libraries, schools, and metro stations. These hubs allow people to power phones, laptops, and medical devices for a few precious hours.
Psychological Toll
The darkness brings emotional strain as much as physical hardship. Mental health workers say prolonged blackouts deepen feelings of anxiety and isolation, especially for children and the elderly.
“When it’s dark and cold, people feel more vulnerable,” said a Kyiv-based psychologist who volunteers at a crisis center. “Candles provide light, but they also symbolize how fragile life has become.”
Parents struggle to maintain a sense of normalcy. Homework is done by candlelight. Board games replace television. Stories are told instead of streamed. Some families say the blackouts have unexpectedly brought them closer together, but the uncertainty remains exhausting.
Children have adapted quickly, treating blackouts like adventures at first. But teachers warn that fatigue and stress are beginning to affect learning and behavior.
“They are brave, but they are tired,” said one elementary school teacher. “They ask when the lights will stay on again. We don’t always have an answer.”
Government and International Support
Ukrainian officials acknowledge the scale of the challenge. Emergency crews repair damaged power lines within hours of strikes, often under dangerous conditions. International partners have sent generators, transformers, and technical equipment to stabilize the grid.
President Volodymyr Zelensky has repeatedly urged Western allies to accelerate delivery of air defense systems to protect energy facilities. “Every blackout is a victory for terror,” he said in a recent address.
The government has also introduced rolling blackout schedules to distribute electricity more evenly and prevent total system collapse. While this has helped some neighborhoods, unpredictable attacks mean outages still occur without warning.
Resilience in the Shadows
Despite the hardships, Kyiv continues to function. Cafés reopen when power returns. Musicians play acoustic sets by candlelight. Volunteers organize soup kitchens using portable stoves. Life persists, dimly lit but determined.
In one apartment block near Independence Square, residents gather in the stairwell each night during outages, sharing tea and stories by candlelight. What began as a practical solution has become a small community ritual.
“We cannot control the war,” said Mykola, a former engineer. “But we can control how we treat each other in the dark.”
As winter deepens, the challenge grows more severe. Cold temperatures make heating as critical as lighting. Yet for now, candles remain the city’s quiet symbol of survival — small flames standing against vast uncertainty.
In Kyiv, light is no longer taken for granted. Each flicker of a candle is both a reminder of loss and a sign of resilience. In the darkness of war, even the smallest flame carries meaning.