Full-scale war has fundamentally changed the very meaning of the word “restoration.” While in 2023 it sounded like a plan and a prospect, today it is often a matter of survival. Reconstruction in frontline areas is not taking place in peace but under shelling, amid shortages of people, resources, and trust.
The village of Posad-Pokrovske in the Kherson region is one example of this reality. It was almost destroyed during the fighting. In late April 2023, the government included it in a project to comprehensively reconstruct destroyed settlements. In 2024, funding was halted due to insufficient funds. In 2025, the process resumed, but there is still no end in sight.
In the new episode of “Conversations about Restoration,” we speak with Oleg Dolgolutsky, head of the “Fewer Words, More Action” Charitable Foundation, who has been dedicating his time to the reconstruction of Posad-Pokrovske in the Kherson region since 2022.
Oleg’s story in this war began, as it did for many, with drastically changed plans. At the start of the full-scale invasion, he returned home from Berlin to Posad-Pokrovske. The plan was simple: spend time with his family, rest, and return to Berlin. But February 24 changed everything. In March, he evacuated his family to the Vinnytsia region, and by April, he had returned to Posad-Pokrovske. It was upon this return that his ongoing work in the village began — responding to requests from the military, providing humanitarian aid to those who remained in the village, and so on. Oleg recalls that in August 2022, only 34 people remained in Posad-Pokrovske, including himself. He had to do everything on his own, learn, ask questions, watch how others did it, and look for organizations that could help in any way. Eventually, others began to join in. Some helped with transportation, some with logistics, and some with unloading.
After the de-occupation of the right bank of the Kherson region, a new phase began — people were returning to Posad-Pokrovske. But in the village, according to Oleg, practically every house had been damaged, and many homes were completely destroyed. That’s when the first attempts at reconstruction began: “At first, no one knew what to do or how. We started helping out, just patching up roofs. People brought whatever materials they had. Then the Red Cross started delivering supplies, and Dobrobat got involved too. Their teams would come and clear the debris. Well, we were doing the same thing everyone else was. At that point, it was more of a volunteer movement. In the summer of 2023, I joined the “Fewer Words, More Action” Charitable Foundation”.
And then the work became more organized: with a team, partners, and specific projects. The foundation installed modular homes and repaired roofs. In early 2023, Oleg met with representatives of the American organization International Brotherhood of Area. Negotiations lasted several months, but eventually we managed to get the partners interested, and they came to Posad-Pokrovske. That’s how one of the first major international collaborations began. Together, they repaired the roofs of 86 houses. For a village that had suffered massive destruction, this was a truly significant achievement. Separately, with support from the Heritage Foundation, they partially restored the water supply. At that moment, the government launched its comprehensive reconstruction program. Unfortunately, local initiatives and projects came to a halt.
“Everyone suddenly started waiting for reconstruction, thinking that funds would come in right away, that the presidential program would kick in and rebuild our village, and that we’d live better than before,” says Oleg.
In 2024, funding stopped. Then the process was resumed. But even now, according to Oleg, not a single house has been fully completed, and no one has moved into a new, fully finished home. And this is what strikes people the most. It’s not that reconstruction is difficult — everyone understands that. It’s that too much time passes between a high-profile announcement and real change.
One of the main problems Oleg talks about is simple and very down-to-earth: there’s a shortage of people, of specific specialists. In his opinion, we need to talk not only about reconstruction but also about retaining those who can still work on-site. He gives a simple example: they install a water line, and then it bursts for the ninth or tenth time. The main pipeline has been laid, but who is supposed to connect the water to a specific house? For a lonely elderly person, this is an impossible task. If you’re going to come into a village to rebuild, Oleg says, you have to see the job through to the end.
Another issue that comes up sharply in the conversation is the quality of the work itself. “I have a lot of strong feelings about this. It’s supposed to be a government program, but everything is done haphazardly. Road workers are building houses,” says Oleg.
In Posad-Pokrovske, Oleg says, there is no school, no kindergarten, and no proper space for children. Yet there are children in the village. By his estimate, the population there currently hovers around 800 people. The number is unstable, but the village is alive. So the question isn’t just when the houses will be completed. The question is where the children will go to school, where they will spend their time, and where there will be a safe space to take them. Because if that isn’t there, the people's return remains incomplete. And according to Oleg Dolgolutsky, the biggest problem is that local authorities have no interest in restoring ties with residents or encouraging those who left to return to the village: “They just ‘dumped everything’ on the big program: it came, so it’s supposed to solve everything. And as long as it’s formally ongoing, we can wait. Most people are intimidated; they’re afraid to ask questions to avoid causing conflict. And to improve things.”
Oleg keeps coming back to the word “interest.” In his view, that’s where real change begins. Because if there’s a desire to solve the problem, then people, solutions, and partners will be found. If that is lacking, everything boils down to a formal process with no real results.
Another complex topic comes up in the conversation: how international donors and organizations operate amid the realities of the front lines and within the framework of the state reconstruction program. Oleg Dolgolutsky does not deny the importance of donor support, but right now it is almost nonexistent due to that same presidential program. Today, there is no community outreach work taking place in Posad-Pokrovske because there are no facilities. However, humanitarian programs continue. Thanks to charitable organizations, mostly local ones, the park has been restored, where adults and children can spend time. In addition, the foundation and its partners have worked in other villages, such as Kyselivka, where they re-roofed 20 houses.
The work continues, but according to Oleg, there is a lack of operational support: “First, we don’t have enough people. Second, we need financial support, even just to reserve a team, because without a reservation, no one wants to work right now.” The team’s safety is a separate issue. Oleg explains that many grant applications are rejected because the same drone detectors are classified as dual-use equipment, and donors do not support the application: “We have to go out and help, do some great things, take risks, but donors can’t mitigate these risks because it’s a military matter. Well, that’s strange. There’s a war in the country, and the sole purpose of these things is to give people a better chance of survival.” If an organization working with civilians is publicly associated with military support — even if it’s just a few food packages — it can damage its reputation in the eyes of donors and block access to international funding. Oleg says it straight: if it weren’t for the military, there simply wouldn’t be any humanitarian work here.
When Oleg is asked about the future of the Kherson region and Posad-Pokrovske, he says plainly that he has no positive outlook at the moment. Not because he wants to belittle others’ work, but because his daily experience offers no grounds for easy optimism: “Posad-Pokrovske is a prime example. If a small village that was much talked about and became part of a major state program cannot be restored for years, then what will happen on a larger scale?”
This conversation with Oleg Dolgolutsky isn’t just a story about one village. It’s about how restoration isn’t just about funds, equipment, and contractors, but also about trust, people, and the ability to listen on the ground. In Posad-Pokrovske, people are still waiting for the promises to be fulfilled. There is a shortage of people, safe spaces, working infrastructure, and the confidence that tomorrow will be at least a little more predictable. But there is something else there — people who have not stopped taking action. Perhaps it is precisely these people who are the foundation of true recovery today.
We invite Kherson residents to participate in an anonymous survey to better understand the moods, needs, and challenges faced by the Kherson region's population, and to assess the effectiveness of public organizations and authorities' work. Each of your answers is a crucial brick in the foundation of your future recovery. Your answers are completely anonymous and will be used exclusively in a generalized form for analytical purposes.
The interview has been produced by the Kherson Regional Charitable Foundation “Union” with the support of the European Endowment for Democracy (EED). Its contents do not necessarily reflect the official opinion of EED. Responsibility for the information and views expressed in this publication lies entirely with the authors.
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