Farmer Volodymyr Varbanets heaves open a heavy warehouse door, sending pigeons scattering into the rafters. Sunlight cuts through the dust, illuminating piles of winter wheat, barley, and sunflower husks — the latest harvest, gathered by an aging but determined crew near Odesa.

The bounty springs from Ukraine’s nutrient-rich black soil, the foundation of its reputation as the world’s breadbasket. In normal times, such a yield would signal prosperity for farmers and stability for global markets dependent on Ukrainian grain.

But at this stage of the war, abundance has become a liability. “There is no way to export this grain,” Varbanets says. Nor can farmers store their crops indefinitely.

In peacetime, Odesa’s Black Sea ports would serve as the natural gateway to overseas buyers. Repeated Russian missile and drone strikes have battered this vital trade artery, destroying terminals, setting warehouses ablaze, and sinking commercial vessels.

Cargo handling at the region’s three main ports — Odesa, Chornomorsk, and Pivdenny — has plunged more than fifteenfold since July 22, according to Ukraine’s infrastructure minister. Since the full-scale invasion began, nearly 300 civilian vessels and more than a thousand port infrastructure facilities have been damaged, according to Ukrainian government figures published in September.

Dominique Soguel

The port of Odesa awaits more grain for storage in its silos and shipment from its terminals, Oct. 3.

“Russia has been hitting the port the whole time during these 4.5 years,” says Dmytro Barinov, president of Ukrport, the Ukrainian Ports Association, in Odesa. “But they changed their tactics this July. They started not only shelling the port infrastructure or vessels that are in the port. They started hunting down vessels incoming or outgoing from the port.”

“For farmers, it’s a disaster,” he says.

“Navigation should be free”

Agriculture remains the backbone of Ukraine’s export economy, accounting for 56% of exports in 2025, worth $22.6 billion. Wheat, corn, sunflower oil, soybeans, and rapeseed rank among the country’s key agricultural exports. Turkey, Egypt, and Italy are the largest buyers of Ukrainian grain.

Ukraine is expecting another bumper harvest, with around 84 million tons of grain and oilseed forecast for the 2026-27 season. Russia’s territorial gains and attacks on silos and warehouses have slashed storage capacity to 59 million tons, according to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations. Ukraine could face an 11-million-ton storage shortfall by November.

On Oct. 3, a Russian strike on a cargo ship killed one sailor and wounded three others, according to the Ukrainian Sea Ports Authority. Two days later, Moscow claimed to have hit fuel storage facilities at Chornomorsk and two cargo vessels. Fires blazed at industrial and port installations, sending towering plumes of black smoke over families lunching by the seaside and children playing in the sand.

Beyond Ukrainian shores, a Turkish-owned ship carrying corn from the Danube port of Izmail to Italy was struck and sank in Romanian waters on Oct. 5, killing two sailors. The following day, a drone struck a Marshall Islands-flagged vessel carrying rapeseed oil, killing one crew member and injuring others. Another drone attack on Oct. 13 sank a cargo ship off Bulgaria.

“I hope these incidents will convince those at the highest level, presidents, to push Russia to stop,” says Barinov. “Navigation should be free.”

It was briefly so early in the war. Under a grain deal brokered by the United Nations and Turkey in July 2022, ships were guaranteed safe passage through a designated Black Sea corridor. Russia withdrew from the deal a year later, and Ukraine subsequently established its own maritime corridor — one that requires military coordination to navigate narrow windows of safety and carries no international guarantees.

Dominique Soguel

Smoke rises after Russian strikes set warehouses on fire in the port city of Odesa, endangering the region’s grain production, Oct. 4.

Maritime traffic has ground to a near-complete halt since the intensification of Russian attacks. Farmers who would normally deliver their cargo to traders at the Black Sea ports of Odesa must now find buyers further afield. Hauling harvests to alternative ports means additional fuel, labor, and transport costs, further squeezing already thin profit margins. Diesel prices in Ukraine have surged nearly 80% year-on-year, driven largely by the Iran war, and fertilizer costs are also climbing.

“People are anxious,” says Varbanets, who heads the 4,200-member Odesa Region Farmers Association. “We try to help each other. For example, I will borrow seeds from you today; tomorrow I will give you fertilizer. The biggest concern at the moment is how to pay for the work of the workers and leased farmland.”

Farmers are also exhausted. Military conscription has pulled younger men away from agriculture, leaving a workforce typically of retirement age putting in longer hours to compensate. “People work 24/7,” Varbanets says. “We understand our duty.”

Taxes present another shared burden. “Because there is a war and we need to feed the army, the government is very harsh on taxes,” he says. “And nobody has the money to pay.” Those who can take out loans; many cannot.

Crying, and dancing

For Viktor Kozhukharenko, who farms 15,000 hectares (37,000 acres), the arithmetic is unforgiving. Transporting a ton of grain once cost him $33; rerouting it through the Danube now costs $70. His trucks can spend five or six days unloading instead of two. “Everyone will benefit from Ukrainian grain, but not a Ukrainian farmer,” he says at his office in Odesa.

Dominique Soguel

Farmer Viktor Kozhukharenko, at his office in Odesa on Oct. 2, says he had to put off plans to expand his operation because of increased transport and logistical costs.

He considers the current crisis worse than the chaos following Russia’s full-scale invasion. Back then, farmers had already sold most of their previous harvest and covered key expenses before the ports closed. This time, the attacks struck during harvest, when farmers desperately needed cash to finance the next growing season.

Having built his farm from just 46 hectares in 1992, Kozhukharenko has shelved expansion plans to focus on survival. He fears a delayed agricultural collapse as farmers scale back planting. “Most of the players on the market, including the government, fail to realize the seriousness of the situation that we are facing now.”

He is equally pessimistic about international help. “While half the world is crying, the other half is dancing,” he says, invoking a Ukrainian proverb. Competing grain exporters, he argues, are “opening Champagne and celebrating” higher prices, while poorer countries dependent on Ukrainian grain lack the political clout to demand a solution.

“Without the sea, we have nothing,” says Kozhukharenko.

Oleksandr Naselenko supported reporting for this story.

Source link

Exit mobile version