The Voice of Occupied Berdyansk

The Voice of Occupied Berdyansk

Since the onset of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the town of Berdyansk, in the Zaporizhzhia region, has been under occupation. The editorial team of brd24, an independent local media outlet, initially continued its work from within the occupied town before relocating to the Kyiv region. Despite the distance, it continues to report on events in Berdyansk for those who have fled and those who remain. Founder Vitaliy Shvets, Editor-in-Chief Viktor Kovalenko, and Project Manager Oleksiy Sherenok discuss how the team continues to be the voice of pro-Ukraine Berdyansk, even in the face of ongoing dangers under occupation.

How did brd24 function before the invasion?

Shvets: I founded it in 2010. My reference was the news site in the city of Dnipro, Dp.ua. My brother lived in Dnipro, and he asked why there wasn’t a similar media outlet in Berdyansk. There wasn’t—so I created one. Later, with colleagues, we came up with the short name brd. A few years later, locals started using the abbreviation brd (be-er-de) to refer to the town itself.

Kovalenko: I joined later, but I can confirm that the town lacked an independent media outlet that could provide balanced information. brd24’s financial stability, thanks to ad revenue, ensured its independence. This allowed us to create content that addressed local interests without catering to any political force, building trust and growing our audience. We had very active social media platforms where locals discussed relevant issues. However, relying on advertising meant our financial system collapsed when the invasion began.

What was your audience like at that time?

Sherenok: Before the invasion, the site attracted over 12,000 daily users, a good result for a town of 100,000 residents. We also had more than 30,000 followers on Facebook and Instagram each.

Shvets: And all of this audience was organic; we never advertised. Most of our readers remain with us now. Last year, our strategy focused on retaining this audience, and we succeeded. Perhaps our website audience has decreased, but that’s a general trend. On the other hand, we’ve grown our audience on YouTube and TikTok. But if the occupation continues, our next strategy will focus on not losing more than 20% of our audience. People are tiring of news about a town they can’t return to.

What was happening with your team during the early days of the invasion?

Shvets: Social media didn’t allow us to take a moment’s rest. We had never received so many messages before. You could feel how panicked people were, how desperately they were seeking answers. So, we tried to respond to everyone. We also published some news, but it seems not everyone could read it, so they just messaged us directly. We weren’t thinking about anything else—just holding the informational front. After some time, the local authorities created a Telegram channel with news, which made things easier.

Kovalenko: After a few weeks of occupation, I realized I needed to leave Berdyansk, not out of fear for my safety but for my children’s sake. Especially when talks began about opening Russian schools. I’ve lived my life, but I didn’t want my children’s lives to be ruined by Russian propaganda. 

To reach Ukrainian-controlled territory, we had to pass through 15 to 17 checkpoints. Just when my family and I had only two left to go, an old acquaintance called me. He had switched to the Russian side but still decided to warn me. He said, “Drop your phone and run—they’re coming for you.” He didn’t know that I was already doing exactly that. I was very nervous because I didn’t know if the information about people being wanted had reached all the checkpoints, but in the end we got through.

At that point, I thought our project was over. There was no funding and my colleagues were still in the occupied territory, posting from time to time. I was very worried about them, especially since they were calling the Russians “occupiers” and “orcs” while in the occupied town.

Shvets: It was scary. I constantly monitored my security cameras, even waking up in the middle of the night to check if anyone suspicious was around. Initially, we hoped it would all be over soon, but after about four months we realized it wouldn’t be, and that we needed to leave.

Sherenok: I was the last to leave. As soon as the fake referendum ended in September, I passed all the checkpoints in one day and was in Zaporizhzhia by evening.

How did brd24 continue to operate during that first year of the invasion?

Shvets: We hardly published anything the month I was leaving, but otherwise we kept releasing minimal content. The site allowed us to make some money from publishing search-optimized articles, but that didn’t cover the team’s work, just the domain costs. When I settled in Hostomel, I started looking for funding, but for a long time all I got were rejections on grant applications.

Then, one evening, when I had decided to shut down the site the next day and find a normal job, I received an approval letter from the German Marshall Fund. I immediately called everyone to tell them we could keep working. The grant didn’t cover all our needs, but it provided the essentials. First, we got new equipment since we left ours in Berdyansk. Second, it provided us with an office where we could all gather. Basic salaries for the team. And importantly, it gave us the ability to tell other grantors that a major fund was already supporting us. After that, getting additional grants became easier.

As we were believed in, we all gathered in our new office in Hostomel and named our new work chat brd 2.0 because it was a new beginning. Now, things are very different. With advertising, we were constantly worried about how to cover salaries for the next month. But with funding secured for at least a year, we’re freed from that worry and can focus on our work and creativity. 

Why have you tried so hard to keep brd24 going? And why do you continue writing about a town that is now so far away from you physically?

Kovalenko: Before the invasion, our simple goal was to create quality content that would grow our audience, increase our profits, and boost our egos. We didn’t feel like we owed anyone anything. But after the invasion, everything changed. We just wanted to return home as soon as possible—and to return victorious. And we realized the importance of giving people hope, helping them stay engaged with Ukrainian issues, and showing them they haven’t been forgotten. In other words, we are now mentally fighting for the people who remained under occupation.

I’ve rethought my attitude toward people from the occupied territories of Donetsk and Luhansk regions. Over time, towns there lost most of their hyperlocal projects and media that knew everything about those places. Everyone began to forget about them. Even I, someone from the news sphere, eventually started to think that only collaborators were left on those territories. But now I understand that incredibly resilient people remain there. After ten years under occupation, some are still raising Ukrainian flags and helping our military. I believe that in Berdyansk nine out of ten people are definitely pro-Ukraine. They don’t like what’s happening under occupation. How could anyone like that? So, it’s important to talk to these people, to help them hold on and believe. That’s what local media is for. Understanding this is what motivates us to keep going.

Shvets: Besides, when I was submitting grant applications, everyone was talking about the upcoming counteroffensive, which was expected to bring big results. We were already living with the idea of Berdyansk’s de-occupation and were determined to cover it actively. The counteroffensive turned out differently, but the team still gathered together and continued working.

By the way, it’s important for us to work together in the same office, even if it might seem old-fashioned. But I think it’s much more efficient. And after such a long time apart, it’s nice to be together.

You’re all together now, but you write about a town that’s far away. How do you manage that?

Kovalenko: It’s tough. There aren’t many sources of information, and their number is constantly decreasing. Our site has been blacklisted by Russian agency Roskomnadzor. People have been accused of extremism and terrorism because of comments under our news, so we constantly tell those still in Berdyansk to unsubscribe and visit the site without subscribing. It’s also hard to find interviewees, even among those who have left the town, as many still have relatives there.

So, we constantly have to come up with new ways to manage. We started making podcasts to avoid video since filming in a town where you’re not present is difficult. We decided to create content not only about current news but also historical topics as we can still access archival materials and consult local history experts.

How do you get feedback from your audience?

Shvets: People comment on our news much less now due to safety concerns but often message us directly. It’s especially valuable when we hear from both civilians still in Berdyansk and the military. For example, the military contacted us to spread the word that Russians are planning forced mobilization in the occupied territories, advising men of draft age to leave Berdyansk if possible. 

We also see that our podcast has an average listen time of ten minutes, which is quite a lot, showing that people are really listening to us.