‘The fear keeps building’: Residents of Russia’s Nizhnekamsk on life after a deadly Ukrainian drone attack

A Ukrainian drone attack on Nizhnekamsk, a city in Russia’s Republic of Tatarstan, on August 10 killed 13 people, including citizens of Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. Residents quickly erected a makeshift memorial with flowers and candles, authorities canceled the city’s anniversary celebrations, and Tatarstan declared a period of mourning. The independent journalist cooperative Bereg reports on what residents of Nizhnekamsk saw and heard that day. Meduza is publishing the text in full.

Nizhnekamsk, a city on the Kama River 220 kilometers (137 miles) from Kazan, grew up around the Nizhnekamsk petrochemical plant, once one of the largest in the Soviet Union. Two oil refineries now operate there, Taneko and TAIF, and both have become regular targets for Ukrainian drones, with strikes recorded both in June and in July. But the attack on August 10 stood out.

The oil refineries were the intended targets, according to the General Staff of Ukraine’s Armed Forces, but the drones also struck residential buildings in the city and a hostel in the industrial zone. Russian officials said 13 people were killed, including citizens of Uzbekistan and Tajikistan and a 5-year-old girl who was sleeping on the balcony of a building on Shkolny Boulevard when a drone hit a tree and exploded, shattering a window. Another 78 people were injured.

The apartment building on Shkolny Boulevard, where the girl had lived, took the worst damage of any building in the strike: windows were blown out in 60 of its 132 apartments. Ninety-three residents applied to the Nizhnekamsk city administration for temporary housing, and 25 of the injured were hospitalized.

Here is how local residents reacted to the attack.

‘I’m an adult man, I’ve seen a lot, but I couldn’t hold back here’

Ruslan (name changed), a 53-year-old lawyer, was at home during the attack. He heard the sirens, since the balcony and windows in his apartment were open. He said he was among the first to reach the apartment building on Shkolny Boulevard.

“I stood near that building with tears in my eyes. I’m ashamed to admit it. I’m an adult man, I’ve seen a lot, but I couldn’t hold back here,” Ruslan said in a conversation with Bereg.

He didn’t know anyone among the dead or injured and learned about the victims from official reports, though what he saw on Shkolny Boulevard hit him harder than any report could. “It’s one thing to read about it in the news, and quite another to see the aftermath with your own eyes,” he said. “My first reaction was, of course, shock. It’s still very hard psychologically.”

A makeshift memorial appeared outside the city museum on August 10. Ruslan said people brought flowers, candles, icons, and children’s toys until evening. Many came as families, and local bikers arrived to lay carnations, he added.

“I stayed there for about 40 minutes, there were a lot of people. It’s amazing how close-knit our city is, how good our people are,” he told Bereg. He added that he worries most about the children: “At moments like this, you still end up thinking about the children rather than yourself.”

Olga (name changed) works on art projects in collaboration with a large local company. She doesn’t live in Nizhnekamsk full time but regularly travels there for work. “I don’t think it’s gotten more alarming, because I’ve already gotten used to everything that’s happening. It’s unsafe everywhere, really,” she said.

Olga said the attacks and restrictions have mostly disrupted her work schedule. Airport closures and rescheduled flights often force her to change plans and cancel meetings, which she said “affects her productivity overall.”

“There were times when we couldn’t get food [during business trips] because many cafes closed due to the drone threat,” she said. “But people there [in Nizhnekamsk] are calm. There’s no noticeable panic among residents.”

Despite the drones striking more often, her team has no plans to scale back its work in Nizhnekamsk. “People need this [the art projects] to cope somehow,” Olga said.

Unlike her, 44-year-old Alina (name changed) has lived in Nizhnekamsk her entire life. She told Bereg that in “recent months” she has often heard the sounds of drones at night. “It usually happens around four in the morning,” Alina added. She said that, over time, she has come to find these nights “harder and harder” to bear.

Alina was home during the August 10 attack, and this time, she recalled, the sound lasted longer than usual and seemed especially close:

She said also heard “strange sounds” on August 12, even though authorities reported no drone attacks that day; other residents also wrote about the sounds in local community groups on social media.

Alina learned about the aftermath of the August 10 attack from her husband. “My anxiety kept growing, and I had to see a doctor. I’m afraid for my children and want to leave the city. The fear keeps building up because the strikes have become more frequent and more destructive,” the Nizhnekamsk resident said.

She’s especially worried about the start of the school year. Alina said parents in Nizhnekamsk school chat groups are already debating the September 1 assemblies. “Opinions are split 50-50. Some aren’t afraid, while others worry that large gatherings of people could be a reason for another drone attack. The school administration left the decision up to the parents,” she said. She plans to keep her own children home on September 1.

The children see things differently, she said. “They still don’t fully understand the danger,” Alina said with a sigh, adding that they don’t want to leave Nizhnekamsk, where they have friends, school, and their “familiar life.”

“But my husband and I are considering moving to a rural settlement where we have a plot of land. We don’t have enough money yet to fully build a house, [so we can’t leave right away],” Olga explained to Bereg.

‘These people should have been in shelters, but they weren’t’

Seven of the 13 people killed were citizens of Uzbekistan and two were citizens of Tajikistan. Their names were never published, and Bereg was unable to locate their relatives or friends. According to media reports, they were eating breakfast in a cafeteria when the strike hit Nizhnekamsk.

“We simply failed to meet the standards that are required by regulation. These people should have been in shelters, but they weren’t,” the head of Tatarstan, Rustam Minnikhanov, said after visiting the hostel.

A few days later, authorities announced the bodies of the dead had been sent to Uzbekistan and Tajikistan.

After the attack, Nizhnekamsk residents began petitioning the city administration to cancel the celebration of the city’s 60th anniversary, scheduled for August 15, writing on social media that holding a mass celebration so soon after people were killed would be inappropriate.

“They want to spend 60-80 million [rubles] on the city’s anniversary, that’s what was reported. Who needs this bravado when this kind of thing is happening. That money would be better spent on defending the city,” one person wrote on the social media site VK.

“All the celebrations should be canceled! The money would be better spent on strengthening the city’s defenses! How can there be any festivities while innocent civilians are dying!” another Nizhnekamsk resident wrote on social media.

In the end, authorities in Tatarstan declared a period of mourning and canceled City Day along with all other entertainment events. Nizhnekamsk Mayor Radmir Belyaev said City Day had been postponed indefinitely and would likely be held “in a different format.”

Ruslan, the lawyer, wants to see a permanent memorial built on Shkolny Boulevard in Nizhnekamsk to honor those killed on August 10. He has seen many people on social media express the same view and believes most residents of the city would support the idea.