Ukraine’s photojournalists share stories of war

In the three years since Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, hundreds of photographers have documented the human impact of the war on the front line and in civilian areas.

Some of them have shared stories about their photos which have appeared in BBC coverage since February 2022.

Prior to the full-scale war, this husband and wife team worked as wedding and portrait photographers in the Black Sea port city of Odesa. They soon moved “from capturing love stories, to documenting Russian war crimes”, recalls Vlada.

She knows first-hand the risks in her work. An explosion on a visit to the Donetsk region in 2023 left her with shrapnel lodged deep in her side, which doctors decided could not be removed.

This powerful shot taken by Kostiantyn Liberov in the summer of 2024 was featured in Paul Adams’ report on the Ukrainian offensive over the Russian border in Kursk.

A soldier is seen consoling his desperate comrade after returning from an assault in which a fellow serviceman was killed.

For Liberov, the image mirrors some of the confusion within the military over the operation.

“To lose your friend in an attack inside Russia, rather than defending our country in Ukraine, is very difficult,” he said. “I took this photo because of the emotional impact it had on me. It says a lot about the situation and how hard it was for them.”

Photographing such deeply affecting scenes has taken its toll on local photojournalists. “It’s not something we talk about a lot with colleagues as it’s painful,” says Vlada. “You are in a very hard situation, and no-one quite understands what the solution can be.”

One 2023 photo of hers captures a member of Ukraine’s White Angels police unit after an unsuccessful attempt to convince one of the last remaining residents to leave the eastern city of Aviidvka before Russian forces sweep in.

The story was part of a BBC article on a devastating 24-hour Russian bombardment.

A man had asked the police unit to evacuate his brother from the basement of a burnt out building, and yet he still refused to leave.

“The next day we could not return because of hard shelling,” Vlada remembers. “The situation got much worse and I’m not sure he could have survived. It hurts knowing you cannot return to these places.”

In documenting so much loss and suffering, the couple have found a deeper appreciation of moments of joy.

Dmytro, who has fought in Ukraine for more than a decade, was photographed after his wife gave birth in March 2024.

“We used to take photos of him in the trenches. And then you see this big, brave soldier crying while he takes his small daughter in his hands, and you understand soldiers like him fight for these moments. Not just for themselves, but for everyone in Ukraine.”

Since 2016, Valeria Demenko has chronicled the work of Ukraine’s state emergency service (DSNS) in the north-eastern Sumy region, and she now joins rescue teams deployed to areas hit by Russian shelling.

“It’s always difficult… you never know what danger awaits you. It is especially difficult when residential buildings come under attack”.

One moment engraved on her memory involved a striking image featured in a story in March 2024 showing emergency workers at the scene of a five-storey building that collapsed after Russian shelling, with residents still inside.

Valeria recalls how emergency workers attended the site for four days straight. They found four dead, but never recovered the body of a missing girl.

“There was a doll on one of the upper floors… it meant a child was living there, and there may have been more.”

Although all her colleagues are emotionally stretched, she wants the world to see their work: “We give every last ounce of strength to document Russia’s crimes against peaceful Ukrainians.”

Alexander Ermochenko has spent the past 11 years documenting Ukraine’s war as a photojournalist in the eastern Donetsk region.

He has often reported in Russian-controlled territory too and “never thought I’d be photographing war in my home”.

“The fear on the face of the owner of a destroyed house is the same on both sides of the front. It is always important to show that blood has the same red colour.”

The BBC has less access to photojournalists reporting from Russia, as the Kremlin restricts access to international journalists and Russian news agencies are largely state-run.

The BBC approached a Russia-based photographer to contribute to this story but received no response.

In the above picture, Ermochenko captured jubilant pro-Russian activists on 21 February 2022 after Vladimir Putin declared their eastern region independent. It was published as part of the BBC’s coverage of that fateful moment.

He describes how the photo came about “accidentally” – a powerful reminder of the potential impact of a photographer’s split-second decision to raise their camera.

Ukraine said 300 people were killed when Russian planes bombed Mariupol theatre in March 2022.

The following month, Alexander Ermochenko captured this image, featured in Hugo Bachega’s report, in which the photographer conveys the aftermath of a massacre alongside everyday life.

“The destruction was absolute,” he remembers, “with destroyed nine-storey buildings looking like a Hollywood set. But they are real, and recently inhabited by people.”

“What was most surprising was that life continued, despite the fighting in neighbouring streets. People looked calm, but in fact they were deeply shocked by what was happening.”

This photo, used in our live reporting of the Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant shelling in November 2022, illustrates the difficulty in photographing the war.

“Pictures of the plant were rare at that time,” says Ermochenko. “It is constantly under guard, though the soldiers themselves perfectly illustrate the situation.”

Despite the challenges he and his colleagues face, he says “the war is not only a part of my professional career, but a big part of my whole life… no matter how difficult it is, I will continue.”

Based in Kyiv, Alina Smutko understands the human impact of this war through her work as a photojournalist and from personal experience.

“I’ve experienced Russian missiles and drone attacks on the city almost non-stop for three years. During this time, I’ve been constantly worried about my parents, child, friends and colleagues.”

She feels lucky that her home is intact and her loved ones alive, after witnessing a missile attack on her neighbourhood from her bedroom window.

Initially, she and her friends and family would check in with each other on a daily basis after the full-scale Russian invasion.

But the frequency of attacks has forced residents to learn to live with the war and maintain as normal a life as possible.

The toll on her profession has been hard.

“We see how our colleagues – photojournalists in particular – were killed or wounded during this invasion. We lost one of our team members, and another colleague has been badly wounded.”

Smutko tries not to “overthink” what she does, but believes it is important to share the effects of the war with the world.

“I think it helps somehow, but I don’t believe in the idea that a picture can stop a war. If it could, we would not have lost so many lives here.”

“I still believe that documenting is important. Because if something hasn’t been photographed, it hasn’t happened.”

“This work has to be done… I just do my best.”

Top image shows a member of the emergency services attending a fire resulting from a Russian strike on a gas depot, near the border in north-eastern Sumy in May 2024.