LocationsUkraine: Tip of the Spear
Portraits of the people driving the country’s recovery by Mikkel Hørlyck.
In partnership with the United Nations Development Programme and the governments of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.
Appreciation to Denmark, Norway, and Sweden: Standing with Ukraine’s Recovery
As Ukraine continues the difficult journey from crisis to recovery, the support of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden has been a powerful expression of Scandinavian solidarity, shared values, and unwavering commitment to human dignity. Through their partnership with UNDP in Ukraine, the three Scandinavian countries are helping communities restore essential services, rebuild livelihoods, strengthen local institutions, and create the conditions for a more resilient future.
Statement by Mikkel Hørlyck, war photographer
It was an honour to photograph people across Ukraine, from communities near the eastern and southern front line. This journey offered a profound perspective on resilience, justice, and development in a country living through war.
Travelling with a small UNDP team, we spent long hours on the road, crossing landscapes that, at first glance, often appeared untouched. Yet the presence of war was unmistakable. It could be felt in the atmosphere, in conversations, and in the uncertainty that accompanies daily life. As we moved closer to frontline communities, the destruction became increasingly visible. These photographs were taken during November and December 2025.
‘Taming the dust of war’
Vadym Shchokin
Kryvyi Rih, November 2025
In the colossal iron ore quarries of Kryvyi Rih, a big industrial city in war-hit Dnipropetrovsk Oblast, explosions are the daily heartbeat. But each quarry blast leaves a toxic legacy – heavy clouds of gas and dust that choke the air.
When the war reduced industry to 30% capacity, and thousands of people fled, Vadym Shchokin (in centre of photograph) and his team of 33 scientists dug in. They work in an unheated laboratory during blackouts, huddled in winter coats to develop reagents that “absorb” the dust of war.
“Scientists have discovery in their blood,” Vadym says. “There is a special pride in knowing your work helps your people breathe easier in a time of darkness.”
“I don’t see myself anywhere else,” he adds. “I was born here, and I’m useful here. My place is here, working for Ukraine.”
‘Engine of change’
Viktoriia Savchuk
Voznesensk, Mykolaiv Oblast, November 2025
Viktoriia Savchuk, 30, loves her small hometown of Voznesensk, in Mykolaiv Oblast, for its quiet and cozy streets, and the fact that her work is only four blocks away. But in the first weeks of the full-scale war, that sense of peace was shattered as the city came under attack, leaving numerous homes in ruins. Despite the regular howling of air raid sirens that still blare out today, Viktoriia chooses to stay.
“It’s better to be at home,” she says. “Here, you know how to react. You aren't just a drop in the ocean, but an engine of change.”
Today, she is among those leading the town’s recovery, rebuilding youth spaces and helping war veterans find their way back to civilian life. For Viktoriia, resilience is staying to build a future exactly where you belong.
“In small steps, we’re moving toward our vision,” Viktoriia says. “My dream is for people to strengthen their own community instead of leaving for big cities.”
‘Ideas that cannot be stopped’
Yevhenii Rabada
Pervomaiske, Mykolaiv Oblast, November 2025
In the village of Pervomaiske, in Mykolaiv Oblast, amidst the silence of a sugar factory and the ruins of an almost-destroyed community, one stone inscription still stands: “Nothing will stop an idea whose time has come.” For 28-year-old Yevhenii Rabada, this “idea” lies in the reintegration of those who fought for Ukraine, just like him.
After 14 months defending Kharkiv as a canine handler with his dog, Yevhenii returned home to serve as the bridge between the front line and the future.
Today, he is dismantling the stigma about veterans by leading youth sports and helping fellow soldiers navigate rehabilitation. He is a living example of recovery, proving that a veteran’s true place is at the heart of a community’s rebirth.
“People say veterans must prepare for civilian life,” Yevhenii says. “But I believe civilian life must be prepared for the veteran. We aren’t a threat. We’re people who have fought for the future.”
‘Harvesting hope’
Natalia Steshyna
Snihurivka, Mykolaiv Oblast, November 2025
“The life ‘before’ no longer exists,” says 40-year-old Natalia Steshyna. In her hometown of Snihurivka, Mykolaiv Oblast, she has traded her career as a manager and business owner for the cabin of a tractor. Today, her “office” is a field where landmines are a daily threat: “Just across the road from where we work, a tractor recently struck an explosive,” she recalls.
Despite the danger, she refuses to quit: “There’s a critical shortage of men. They’re protecting us at the front; we must support them here.”
While Natalia masters 12-ton machines, her heart is with her children, aged 18 and 22, who are currently abroad because of the war. “They’re still afraid to return home,” Natalia says. She works through the danger, living for the moments they can be together.
“Someone has to do this job, so we are here.”
‘My first home’
Olha Romanenko
Kharkiv, November 2025
“This hospital is my first home,” says Ukrainian doctor Olha Romanenko. When the windows of her own apartment were shattered by an attack, she didn’t leave. She went to her “first home” – the hospital. Her colleagues did the same, since many had lost their houses entirely to the war. Every morning at 8 a.m., they are back at their posts.
“At the beginning (of the full-scale war), we didn’t know what was happening,” Olha recalls. “Then we decided that everyone must contribute to the victory. So we just started working.”
Under the constant pressure of bombing, she noticed a change in her colleagues: They became “softer and more human,” with a deeper connection to their patients.
For Olha, her mission is simple: “You have to make tomorrow better, regardless of everything.”
‘The Dream for Youth’
Ivan Volyanskyi
Lviv, November 2025
“People told us it was impossible to play basketball or skate on the stage of the Lviv Opera House,” says Ivan Volyanskyi. But he made it happen, filming a documentary about displaced Ukrainian children who “traded their trauma of losing a home” for breakdancing and street football.
Originally from Zaporizhzhia, Ivan came to Lviv in 2024 after he lost his mother to cancer. Though the relocation was his way of easing the pain of loss, Ivan’s curiosity and background in street culture led him to the place that needed him most. Eventually, he realized he needed that place too.
Now a project manager at Urban Camp, a 7,000-square-meter vibrant youth hub transformed from a derelict Soviet-era palace of culture building, Ivan works to bridge the gap between the digital world and reality for teenagers who fled the occupation. “Some of these kids have stories that make you want to cry,” he says. “We give them a place to scream, to dance, and to express themselves.”
‘Pottery in the dark’
Serhii Railian
Kyiv, December 2025
After losing his sight and both legs on the front line in 2022 and undergoing over 30 surgical operations, Serhii sought a way to navigate a new reality. He found it at the potter’s wheel. What began as a 45-day rehabilitation course has since grown into a professional brand run by Serhii and his wife from their Kyiv studio.
But their work goes beyond aesthetics. Drawing from Serhii’s own experience, they design inclusive pottery for people with disabilities. By creating these adaptive pieces, Serhii and his wife are restoring a sense of dignity and independence to the simple act of sharing a meal.
His ceramics have become a bridge to a world he can no longer see, but can still touch and even shape for the better: “At first, I was interested in the technical side,” Serhii says, “But then I began to feel the soul in it…”
‘Home, reborn’
Zorie Ganiyeva
Chornobaivka, Kherson Oblast, November 2025
For Zorie Ganiyeva, the full-scale invasion felt like a cruel repeat of history.
As a Crimean Tatar, she grew up with the memory of her ancestors’ deportation from the peninsula. But on May 18, 2022, the very day the world commemorates the tragedy, Zorie found herself registering as an internally displaced person near Kyiv, after fleeing her home in then-occupied Chornobaivka, a village in Kherson Oblast.
Although the village was liberated in November 2022, it remains under constant, heavy attacks, preventing Zorie from permanently returning home with her two daughters. But the heart of Chornobaivka keeps beating through her. Even amid the current attacks, Zorie keeps traveling there, driven by her daughters’ longing to return home one day: “My people survived so much; I have to be strong,” she says.
Now, as she leads municipal initiatives, Zorie transforms international support into tangible recovery: From restoring water networks to building veteran centres, also ensuring that Chornobaivka remains a place where life can truly return.
‘Stitching a new life’
Hanna Olshynska,
Mykolaiv, November 2025
Hanna Olshynska stayed in Kherson during its eight-month occupation by Russian forces in 2022, refusing to leave until she could evacuate all of her rescued animals. It was only in December 2022, after a fellow volunteer died in her husband’s arms, that the cost of staying became too high. She fled with 12 dogs, six cats, and her family, leaving everything else behind. A year later, on International Volunteer Day, she learned her family home in Kherson had been reduced to rubble in a Russian attack.
Now displaced in Mykolaiv Oblast, Hanna has turned her instinct for survival into a new profession: She began designing adaptive “dog stretchers” and evacuation bags for injured pets – the very gear she lacked during her own escape under fire. In her new home, where her dogs still warn her of incoming drones, Hanna is stitching together a new life.
“Animals save us, and we save them,” she says.
‘Clearing the soil’
Karina Buchma
Mykolaiv Oblast, November 2025
Originally from the western Ukrainian city of Lviv, Karina Buchma travelled to Cambodia to master explosive detection before returning to clear the soil of her own country.
At 25, she has turned a lifelong love for animals into a high-stakes profession, walking the minefields of Ukraine’s southern Mykolaiv region with her two partners: Coral, a gentle eight-year-old Belgian Malinois, and Tina, a high-energy four-year-old mix.
In the silence of a mission, their bond is Karina’s greatest tool: “Dogs are a reflection of their handler,” she says, adding that she knows every shift in their breathing and every twitch of their tails.
In a land where the threat is hidden, Karina and her dogs work together to return it to the people. “My dream is simple,” she says. “Peace for my country, and a quiet retirement for my dogs.”
‘Returning home’
Oleksandr Kotenko
Zlatopil, Kharkiv Oblast, November 2025
After losing his leg at the front line while saving a comrade, 93rd Brigade squad leader Oleksandr returned to a new kind of battlefield. In his home in Kharkiv Oblast, he witnessed the everyday challenges veterans with disabilities face, from limited accessibility in residential buildings, to gaps in inclusive infrastructure.
Today, he leads a veteran hub that helps ease the transition to civilian life. Through his work, he supports practical solutions such as improving accessibility, offering psychological support, and promoting the inclusion of veterans in the country’s recovery and reconstruction.
“We want to create understanding between civilians and ourselves,” Oleksandr explains. “To show what the war was, and what it has meant. We just want to be heard, and to make sure we can get around our own streets.”
‘Holding on through words’
Valentyna Karpliuk
Pavlohrad, Dnipropetrovsk Oblast, November 2025
At night, when sleep doesn’t come, Valentyna (third from left in photograph) writes.
At 63, she lives in Pavlohrad, a town in the war-hit Dnipropetrovsk Oblast, where the sound of explosions has become part of daily life. After losing her daughter to cancer three years ago, she turned to poetry as a way to cope with her grief. Since then, she has used her writing to process not only personal loss, but the war around her. Her poems travel to the front line, tucked into care packages, reaching soldiers in the brief periods of quiet between attacks.
To stay connected with her grandchildren, Valentyna also learned digital skills at a local library, mastering something that once felt unfamiliar. Now, her words travel both by hand and online, reaching far beyond her home.
“I often write at night, when I can’t sleep,” she says. “Whatever I feel, I put into words.”
Through her poetry, Valentyna holds on to memory, to connections, and to the belief that even in war, something human can still be shared.
‘Keeping the line of life open’
Oksana Starodubtseva
Tomakivka village, Dnipropetrovsk Oblast, November 2025
When people talk about the “resilience” of Ukrainians, Oksana is one of the people who exemplifies that word.
A professional embroiderer by training, she now spends her days repairing gas pipelines damaged by shelling in the frontline Nikopol area in Dnipropetrovsk Oblast.
As a team leader, Oksana works in conditions where security risks remain high, often reaching sites on foot when vehicles become a target of attacks. She works side-by-side with her husband: “He is my breath,” she says.
Oksana has experienced the war’s impact firsthand. A strike destroyed her garage and car. Yet even then, she returned to work, helping restore gas to her community.
“We’re afraid, of course,” she says. “But we keep working, because people are waiting for us to help them.”
Energy work on the front lines
Serhii ‘The Lucky One’
Donets, Kharkiv Oblast, November 2025
In Kharkiv Oblast, Serhii (left in photograph) and Oleksandr repair damaged pipelines in areas where the ground could be mined, and drones are a constant presence overhead. They move carefully, often on foot, returning again and again to places hit the night before.
In 2022, during one of these repairs, Serhii stepped into a minefield. He noticed a thin wire next to his foot just in time and slowly retraced his steps, following the same path back to safety. A demining team later confirmed there were more mines nearby. Since then, his colleagues have called him “the lucky one.”
But the work did not stop there. It never does.
Together, Serhii and Oleksandr continue restoring what has been damaged so people can stay in their homes and hold on to daily life, even under constant risk.
“The best result is when people have what they need again,” Serhii says.
‘Even a single action matters’
Oksana Horova
Pavlohrad, Dnipropetrovsk Oblast, 2026
For Oksana Horova, change begins with one simple thing: a person deciding to take responsibility.
Oksana has been involved in civic work for almost 30 years. In 2011, she became the head of the apartment owners’ association of her five-storey building in Pavlohrad. What began with improving her own home grew into helping others create and manage their own homeowners’ associations.
After February 2022, the needs of the community changed, and Oksana and her team increasingly focused on safety, helping strengthen the capacity of the local State Emergency Service through providing energy-efficiency solutions and essential equipment for rescuers, and raising public awareness about safety rules.
For Oksana, however, the most important part of her work is helping people believe they can shape the place where they live.
“People think: If I do this — what difference will it make?” she says.
“But it does make a difference. If you want to make changes, you’ll always find a way.”
