Most of the streets of the Ukrainian city of Kherson are empty now.

Three years after it was recaptured by Ukrainian forces, the city that once erupted in joy has sunk into a wary stillness — a place where daily life unfolds behind walls or underground.

In November 2022, people poured into the main square of the southern port city, waving blue-and-yellow flags and embracing the soldiers who had defeated Russian troops after nine months of occupation.

They believed the worst was over. Instead, the war changed shape.

From across the Dnipro River, Russian troops strike with regular intensity — and drones now prowl the skies above a city of broken windows and empty courtyards.

Still, those who stayed insist that even this — life in a mostly empty and shuttered city — is easier than living under Russian occupation.

A recent visit by Angelina Jolie was a welcome boost to morale for residents whose daily challenge to survive was highlighted by photos showing the American actress in a basement and on a street shielded by narrow corridors of mesh overhead, needed to protect civilians from drones.

Once home to nearly 280,000 people, Kherson has become a forgotten stretch of the front line, where explosions echo daily beneath billboards that still read: “City of strength, freedom and resilience.”

Despite the constant tension, a petrifying alertness in the air, the city remains alive.

Post offices still operate, though their entrances are blocked by concrete slabs meant to absorb blasts.

At bus stops, where transport continues despite the risks, small cement bunkers stand ready — reminders that shelling can come at any moment.

Above the visible nets, an invisible shield protects Kherson.

This is the city’s electronic warfare systems that use radio signals to detect, jam or disable enemy drones.

To preserve a sense of normal life, some activities — especially for children — have moved underground.

Former apartment basements are now cozy rooms with carpets and colorful decorations.

Once a week, a children’s club gathers here to play chess and checkers, small tables filling the room as kids focus on their next move, laugh and wander freely beneath posters about breathing techniques if anxiety starts.

Chess coach Oksana Khoroshavyna said that in peacetime, training would be stricter, but for the past two years the club has been mostly a place where Kherson’s children can meet and make friends.

“They don't go out anywhere, they study at a comprehensive school remotely, everything is done remotely,” she said.

In another basement, 16-year-old Artem Tsilynko, a high school senior who hopes to study dentistry, practices boxing with his peers.

“For me, this place is about unity,” he says. “Even though life in Kherson is so limited — social life, sports life — we still have a chance to train.”

He has spent nearly a quarter of his life in war and says fear for his own life has dulled with time — but still returns at night during heavy shelling.

AP video by Vasilisa Stepanenko