‘The real cause is human’ One year after a devastating flood, residents of Russia’s Orsk are still living with the consequences

On April 5, 2024, the Ural River broke through a dam in Orsk, the second-largest city in Russia’s Orenburg region, sending floodwaters rushing into residential neighborhoods. In the days that followed, two more dams failed. The flooding soon spread, reaching parts of the Tyumen and Kurgan regions. In Orsk alone, nearly 7,000 homes were affected, and at least five people lost their lives. Journalists from the independent Bereg cooperative traveled to the city to speak with residents living near the collapsed dam and see what their homes look like now. Meduza shares a translation of their reporting.

The names of people in this story appear as they were given to Bereg’s reporters.

The day before

Lyokha

In the final moments before the dam burst, I walked over to the window. You could see the water on the other side, and there was maybe half a meter left before it reached the top. So even a few days before the breach, the river was already full. Some people started renting [trucks] to move their things out. But not many. It was only on the last day that it really became clear that the water was right there behind the wall, just a few meters away. Everything was [going to be] lost. I called some friends, and we lifted a few appliances — the fridge, the washing machine — up onto tables. I figured if [the water] got into the house, it’d come up to our waists. So we raised everything above that line.

The siren didn’t go off until after the dam had already burst. They turned it on maybe half an hour later, once it was obvious to everyone that something was wrong. A UAZ drove by, and they told everyone, “Get ready to evacuate.” And we were like, “Okay, we’re ready. Now what? Where are we supposed to go, and who’s coming to evacuate us?”

Sergey

[On April 5] the water just kept rising. The spot where the dam eventually gave way had already started leaking that morning. The local authorities were just sitting around doing nothing. No one was here. The Ural River was already full to the brim — we were out checking how fast the water was rising, calling the administration. And they kept saying, “We know, we’re coming, we’re coming.”

They showed up and started [trying to reinforce it] only after the water had already broken through. Then the police arrived and said, “That’s it, we’re evacuating, let’s go.” Where were they before that? No idea.

Alexander

My son and I went to the dam on April 5, and just as we were heading back down, we saw that water had started to seep through. We rushed home and called the Emergency Ministry, then the [local] administration. They hit us with a bunch of questions: “Who are you? Where are you calling from? What’s happening? Where exactly?” I told them the breach was on Orenburgskaya [Street]. The cars actually showed up quickly — but what good did it do? [The water] had already started washing away [the dam] — and then it kept going.

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Baba Lyuba

No one warned us. The sirens only started blaring after the dam had already burst. It was midnight — the siren was going off, and I was alone. I looked around — no water in the house yet, and outside looked fine too. But I didn’t even have time to get dressed. The wave hit — and that was it. Everything in the house started floating. I called emergency services, but they said, “We’ve got too many calls.” And the water just kept rising, second by second, ice cold.

The flood

Alexander

It was already late in the day. The water had been seeping through for maybe two hours… and then it broke through hard — faster and faster, spreading in all directions, reaching [the old town area], snapping the tram tracks, flooding into shops. There were so many cars, people running everywhere, sirens wailing — wooo-wooo-wooo — the roar of the water. I climbed up into the attic and from there I could see it rushing through — shhhhhhh. We left around midnight, and by two [in the morning], everything was underwater.

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Local resident

In the middle of the night, while I was asleep, our wooden banya — a log structure faced with brick — floated away. I woke up to this crunching sound and couldn’t figure out what it was. I thought maybe the house was collapsing. I looked out the window — the banya had come loose and floated right up to the house. The shed floated off too.

Lyokha

We threw Baba Lyuba a rubber boat because her gate was shut and we couldn’t get to her. She used it like a bridge and walked across. We were helping her out, and people in the next house started yelling from a window for us to come get them too. People were just looking out and seeing us float by, shouting, “Take us with you!” They’d all been calling emergency services, but either no one picked up or they just said they’d come. When? Who knew. And all of this was happening in the dark.

Local resident

Wooden buildings and fences started floating away, and all around you could hear the cracking of splintering wood — the noise was everywhere. I started to panic because you couldn’t make sense [of anything]. One moment a house would be standing, the next you’d see it suddenly lift off, and a shed too — just like that, floating away.

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Local resident

My neighbor had a proper boat — metal, with a motor. We took it out together. We know who lives where on the street — the pensioners, the grandparents. We grabbed my rubber boat too and started getting people out. We rescued three. Honestly, we evacuated almost the entire street ourselves. We didn’t see anyone else — no emergency crews, no one.

Farid

Our neighbor Natasha had this huge dog in her shed — big as a calf — and it drowned. She was at work when everything started, and there was no one around to unchain it.

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Anna

Ours was the only dog that survived. Our neighbors had chickens, cats, dogs, rabbits — they all drowned. The dogs were still hanging by their chains on the fences. They took out a whole truckload of dead animals. Our dog made it because Grandpa saved it in the boat.

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The return

Lyokha

Little by little, we all started coming back. But what we found here — it was a mess. The things we saw after the water were just unbelievable. When we walked into the house, it felt strange, like you could still feel the force of it all. The water had turned everything upside down in ways I didn’t think were even possible. The linoleum had floated up, drifted around, and then settled wherever it wanted. The couch floated too and ended up in a different spot. The windows were pushed out from the inside — the inner panes shattered, but the outer ones stayed intact. As if the water was pressing from the inside.

Ivan

The wells were flooded, and the whole city was left without water. They started bringing it in, selling it, and chlorinating it to make it safe. You could smell the chlorine in the water. I mean, they had to — there was a real risk of infection. Up until last year, you could drink straight from the tap. Now they’ve even installed water dispensers — there’s demand for clean water.

Lyokha

Everyone here has septic pits, and of course, they all rose to the surface. They promised there would be crews from the Emergency Situations Ministry going around. They were supposed to disinfect the homes that weren’t going to be demolished but just repaired. But I didn’t really see them. In the end, I just turned on the heating and set up two fans. That’s how I dried everything out.

At first, it was pretty awful — everything wet, everything stinking. And with the summer heat and all that moisture, walking into the house felt like stepping into a sauna. The air was thick and damp. Living here during the summer was grim. Mold started showing up in patches on the walls. I did what I could to stop it.

The electricians were the first to show up after the water receded. They came around to every house and hooked up two outlets on the outside walls. People would run extension cords inside to power a light or a few basic appliances. But the gas — that was a bigger problem. They spent months clearing the gas lines, blowing the water out. Eventually, they started restoring service bit by bit. People turned on their ovens and burners just to dry out their homes, because a lot of folks had nowhere else to go. They stayed and lived however they could. I’m fixing up one half of my house and living in the other.

There were two commissions — one for property and one for assessing the condition of the house. A couple of young women from the local administration came with a questionnaire. They walked through the house, took a few photos on their phones — and that was it. Some people ended up suing over the compensation. One neighbor took them to court, another one did too — and they managed to get something, barely. Officially, funds were allocated for each home, from the federal budget or wherever. But here, they basically handed out refusals to anyone they thought they could get away with denying. If someone didn’t push back, didn’t go to court, didn’t raise hell with the prosecutor’s office — they didn’t get a thing.

Baba Lyuba

Now no one lives here anymore. No one lives over there, or behind me, or farther down [the street]. Even the house on the corner — it’s empty too. And farther that way, lots of houses are set to be torn down. Our street is basically half empty now.

The river

Farid

The Ural [River] has completely thawed now. I go check it every day, keeping an eye on the situation. The car’s packed and ready.

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Lyokha

Everyone’s bracing for another flood. Everyone’s scared — especially those who’ve already done repairs or have low-lying houses, the kind where even a small flood means water inside again. Of course people are anxious.

Anna

We’ve already packed up all our documents and medicine, just in case it starts again. We’ve got two suitcases ready. We’re not doing any repairs yet — we’re waiting.

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Lyokha

The Ural is like a living thing — it’s always moving in its own way. But this flood changed the whole shape of the shoreline. The banks that were eroded collapsed completely. In some places, the reeds were ripped out and washed away. Some cliffs were flattened altogether. And when they started cleaning up, the tractors tore up the entire embankment.

Alexander

The Ural River isn’t to blame. It’s more about the people in charge — the ones who were supposed [to manage] the water release. Like what’s happening now — this year there are five commissions working on it. They rebuilt the dam; it had seven breaches. If they keep working like this, maybe there won’t be another flood for a hundred years — maybe never. The real cause, of course, is human.