A US-brokered ceasefire stills Kherson's skies — but residents brace for what comes next

On Wednesday morning in Kherson, a retired man sat on a bench drinking coffee, undisturbed by the rumble of distant shelling. A woman pruned her grapevines, flinching every time the wind whistled — she kept mistaking it for a drone. A businessman drove to the ruins of his old apartment for the first time since a drone set the roof on fire and drove him out in the spring. For a city that has lived under near-daily Russian strikes for two years, the silence was almost harder to process than the noise.

Negotiated by US First Lady Melania Trump and linked to a humanitarian operation in the Russian-held town of Oleshky, just across the Dnipro River, a six-day localized ceasefire began at 3 a.m. Tuesday, October 27. By Wednesday, Ukraine's human rights ombudsman Dmytro Lubinets confirmed both sides were fully complying as of midday. The truce is set to expire at 10:59 p.m. on November 1.

Kherson, which was constantly under fire, literally came to life. People are calmly going out, walking, enjoying the autumn sun. What for some is ordinary everyday life, for residents of the Kherson region today is the greatest desire.— Dmytro Lubinets, Ukraine's Human Rights Ombudsman

The ceasefire's immediate purpose is to allow medicine, food, and water to reach Oleshky, a Russian-occupied city that Trump described as 'on the brink of disaster,' where up to 2,000 people remain with food and medical supplies running critically low. Drones and land mines have restricted movement there. Evacuation corridors are expected to open later in the week. The truce zone was subsequently expanded beyond Oleshky to cover the broader Kherson region, according to Trump's announcement, which is what stilled the skies over the Ukrainian-held city across the river.

Kherson sits on the western bank of the Dnipro. Russian forces have held the eastern bank — including Oleshky — since Ukraine recaptured the city itself in November 2022. From those positions, Moscow's troops have kept up a relentless campaign using guided aerial bombs and fiber-optic FPV drones that carry livestreaming cameras, letting operators select targets in real time. In a report issued last year, the United Nations' Independent International Commission of Inquiry on Ukraine found that the drone strikes had repeatedly killed and wounded civilians, destroyed homes, and driven thousands from their residences — conduct the commission characterized as crimes against humanity of murder and forcible transfer, according to the Boston Globe.

The effect on the city has been cumulative and visible. Plywood covers windows across whole neighborhoods. Billboards carry faded, years-old advertisements. Shops and offices shuttered long ago. Farther from the center, entire blocks have every window blown out. Anti-drone netting is draped over the main roads. Buses still run and some cafes remain open, but the pavements are normally nearly empty — because stepping outside can mean death.

Wednesday was different. One local resident told Kyiv Post that activity was 'practically at pre-war levels,' with people walking, cars moving, and public transport reappearing. Businessman Oleksandr Vlasov said enemy drones, including reconnaissance drones, had stopped crossing the Dnipro entirely. Social media filled with videos of cars queuing to enter the city — evacuees returning to check on homes they had fled.

Essentially, the city has returned to pre-war times. Many people are walking in the streets, and cars and public transport have reappeared. Everyone is rushing around, trying to remove their belongings from apartments.— Local resident (unnamed)

For the first time in nearly two years, Hanna Llianna, 61, made her way to the city center for a coffee and a stroll. The neighborhoods nearer the river — where she once operated a small grocery store — remain off-limits for her; she cannot bring herself to witness what the fighting has left behind. "It will be very hard if what we had comes back," she said. "You lift your spirits like this now, and when it returns, it will be very hard."

The building Anton Shakhunov headed to was badly damaged — it had been his last address in the city before a drone struck the roof and started a fire there in the spring, forcing him out. He wandered the fifth-floor flat: windows gone, doors ripped from frames, large furniture buried in dirt.

Here is the Russian world in all its beauty.— Anton Shakhunov, former resident

Making the drive without worrying about his own safety or his vehicle felt surreal, he said. "I'd like it to stay this way as long as possible, but thanks for at least a week," he said.

City crews took advantage of the quiet to patch and expand the protective netting strung above streets to intercept drones. Liudmyla Shevchenko tidied her garden and replanted flowers, including tulips — tasks impossible when drones prowl overhead. "You go out, and it's flying. You barely step outside, and you hide," she said. Her husband Oleksii Kroshchenko noted the drones had been the primary driver of empty streets. "Guided bombs aren't much fun either," Shevchenko added.

Honestly, I can't put it into words. If it stays this way, it would be really wonderful.— Oleksandra Kosenko, kiosk owner

Kosenko told Reuters she had seen the number of customers at her kiosk nearly double — around 50 in total — and was relieved to stop dashing for cover on the way to work. Unease persisted among her and others, however, who said renewed fighting could break out at any time. A number of residents approached by Reuters walked away without comment, their body language guarded.

The dangers have not disappeared entirely. Anti-personnel mines dropped remotely by Russian forces remain scattered across the city, hidden now under fallen autumn leaves. One claimed the life of a military press officer on Tuesday. Residents walked carefully. The distant blasts audible during the ceasefire, the military said, were controlled demining detonations — but the distinction requires trust that not everyone has.

The Russians have proven that they can't be trusted. So I think everyone subconsciously feels like there could be some sort of provocation at any moment.— Olha Chyupikova, 52, municipal worker

That fear runs through nearly every conversation. Many residents worry Russia is using the pause to stockpile drones and move forces closer to the river. Oleksandra Kostenko, who endured the Russian occupation and has left the city only once since, put it plainly: "It will end, and they will terrorize us. That's what we're afraid of." The ceasefire has also drawn criticism inside Ukraine, according to Kyiv Post, because Russia has a record of failing to honor humanitarian agreements.

Yuliia Orlova said she and her husband have begun seriously considering leaving for good, convinced the city no longer has a future. She used the quiet to visit her mother in a riverside district normally too dangerous to reach — a trip that, under ordinary conditions, would have been unthinkable.

The ceasefire is a localized arrangement, not a broader halt to the war. Battles continue along the full 1,200-kilometer front line, Russia's bombing campaign of Ukrainian cities is ongoing, and Moscow remains focused on capturing the parts of eastern Donetsk still outside its control. When the clock runs out on November 1, Kherson's residents know exactly what is likely waiting on the other side of the river.

Why it matters — The ceasefire offers the clearest test yet of whether localized US-mediated pauses can hold in this war — and its outcome will shape both the humanitarian situation in Oleshky and the prospects for any broader negotiations.

Sources differ on Deliberate targeting of civilians: Russian drone and artillery attacks have repeatedly killed and wounded civilians, amounting to crimes against humanity, per the UN commission. (bostonglobe.com) vs Both Russia and Ukraine deny deliberately targeting civilians. (straitstimes.com)

Reported by kyivpost.com, bostonglobe.com, straitstimes.com, reuters.com, newsukraine.rbc.ua