“Russians hunt people with drones”

My name is  Igor Zagnoy, and I work as a chief specialist in the Department of Information Policy and Media Communication, within the Department of Internal and Information Policy of the Kherson State Administration. Essentially, I serve as a cameraman and editor, documenting the aftermath of attacks and the ongoing situation in the city. I was born in the Novo-Vorontsivskyi district of the Kherson region, now part of the Bereslavskyi district, and have lived in Kherson since 2013. I started my career in 2007 at the local TV channel TRK “Scythia”, now known as “Suspilne”. After a reorganization and subsequent staff reductions, I transitioned to work for the online platform “Ukrainian South”.

When the full-scale invasion began, I moved to Kryvyi Rih in April 2022 and later joined the state administration as a cameraman in October 2022. Our office was based in Kryvyi Rih, but after Kherson was liberated, we returned to the city the very next day to film the celebrations. I remember how people rejoiced despite the lack of electricity and communication. Starlink terminals allowed many to connect with their loved ones, and I captured these moments, edited footage near the Starlink, and uploaded it to platforms like Telegram and Facebook. Since then, I’ve been living and working in Kherson, documenting the escalating attacks on the city.

Increased intensity of shelling 

Currently, the Russians are shelling Kherson more intensively, often using drones to attack residents, ambulances, and firefighters, particularly in the coastal “red zone”. The indiscriminate nature of these attacks is horrifying. For example, over one weekend, 10 people were injured, and two lost their lives during massive shelling that began at 5 a.m. The city burned, and electricity was cut off. Thanks to the incredible efforts of utility workers, critical infrastructure was restored by evening. They repaired homes, replaced broken windows, and cleared debris. This tireless commitment continues, despite daily shelling. The most intense shelling I recall occurred on December 24, 2022, near the Central Mini-Market and Central Market. Many were injured or killed, and it was the first time I had to film scenes with so much blood and destruction. It was deeply shocking and remains one of the most vivid memories of my career.

Surviving a drone attack 

On July 11, 2024, I was covering an incident in Kherson where a private house had been destroyed by shelling. As I filmed, a fire truck arrived, and while standing nearby, I couldn’t hear the drone because of the noise from the truck. Suddenly, explosives were dropped just three meters away. I was lucky to escape with only a concussion, but a colleague from a municipal service suffered more severe injuries. We ran to take cover at a nearby bus stop, and police officers warned us of additional drones overhead. We waited for about 15 minutes until an ambulance arrived. Despite my injuries, I completed my report and returned home. Drones are terrifying because they are silent, and you often don’t realize one is nearby until it’s too late. Unlike artillery or mortar fire, which gives you a few seconds to react, drones can strike without warning.

After the drone attack, I took a short break, visiting my mother in her quiet village to recover from the noise, explosions, and constant tension. The peace and silence were a welcome respite. Since that incident, I’ve become much more cautious. I carry a drone detector, helmet, and bulletproof vest in my car at all times. I remain vigilant, scanning my surroundings and taking extra precautions to protect my life and health.

One of the hardest parts of my work is dealing with grieving relatives at the scenes of attacks. Their pain is palpable, and while I film the events, I avoid showing their reactions out of respect for their privacy. Filming in coastal areas is particularly frightening, knowing that an attack can come at any moment—whether from artillery, tanks, or drones. The unpredictability of these dangers is what I fear most in my work.

Coping with the emotional toll 

Despite the horrors I document, I’ve developed a calm demeanor that helps me focus on my work. I immediately edit and publish my footage, moving from one assignment to the next. However, the constant exposure to destruction and death has taken its toll. Sometimes, I need to disconnect and spend time in silence to recharge. Having quiet moments away from the chaos is essential for maintaining my mental health.

Through it all, I remain committed to capturing the truth of what’s happening in Kherson. My work is a vital record of the resilience of our people and the atrocities committed by the occupiers. While the challenges are immense, I continue to press on, driven by the importance of telling these stories.

Created as part of the project “Raising awareness among target groups in Ukraine and abroad about Russian war crimes against journalists in 2024 and increasing public pressure for the release of captured journalists”, which is implemented by the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine with support of the Swedish non-profit human rights organization Civil Rights Defenders.