As Russia continues to occupy nearly one-fifth of Ukraine’s territory, millions of Ukrainians remain trapped behind enemy lines, enduring repression, intimidation, and daily fear—but many refuse to leave, clinging to hope that liberation will come.

Among them is a woman from southeastern Ukraine, a member of Zla Mavka, an all-female non-violent resistance group. Speaking to CNN under strict anonymity due to the danger, she described life under occupation as “exhausting and incredibly scary.”

“You can be arrested for anything,” she said. “You can’t speak freely, trust anyone, or even keep certain items in your home. Every day is a risk.”

Zla Mavka, named after a mystical forest spirit in Ukrainian folklore, focuses on preserving Ukrainian identity by secretly distributing literature, celebrating national holidays, and fostering cultural pride. “We want to remind everyone—this is not Russia and never was,” she said.

The risks are severe. Ukrainian citizens in occupied regions are being pressured to take Russian passports, with refusal often leading to arrest, torture, or deportation. Human rights groups have denounced these tactics as violations of international law. Without Russian documentation, residents cannot work, access medical care, or call emergency services. “You can’t even call an ambulance,” the resistance member said.

Stepan, a 22-year-old Ukrainian who recently escaped to government-controlled Kherson, shared a harrowing account of his detention by Russian troops. He and his family were imprisoned without charges—he was tortured with electric shocks, and his parents were held for months. “I was afraid to leave the house,” he said.

Russian President Vladimir Putin recently signed a decree requiring Ukrainians in occupied territories to adopt Russian citizenship by September or face expulsion. Ukrainian officials have urged residents to prioritize safety, even if that means accepting documents under duress.

While some residents support the occupation, both Stepan and the resistance member believe these individuals are a small minority—often those who benefit materially from aligning with the Russian regime. “They didn’t have much before. Now, shouting ‘I love Russia’ gets them a job and money,” the woman said.

Leaving the occupied zones is no easy task. Escape routes pass through Russian-controlled filtration points, where people are screened and interrogated. Many have been detained and sent to distant Russian facilities. Others must navigate a circuitous and expensive route through Russia and Europe to reach safety in Ukraine.

“It’s not just about territories,” the woman emphasized. “It’s about people. We are still here. We are waiting. And even if negotiations give our cities to Russia, resistance won’t stop.”

As international debates over peace negotiations and potential territorial concessions continue, those living under occupation remain defiant, unwilling to abandon their homes and their national identity—even in the face of overwhelming adversity.