This week in Ukraine news:
Sanctions don't cause instant collapse—they cause slow, systematic failure. This week, we open with an exclusive investigation: leaked documents from Russia's presidential flight unit reveal 319 technical failures in just three months, with 55 occurring mid-flight. Navigation systems, weather radars, satellite communications—all dependent on Western components Russia can no longer access or repair.
These aren't ordinary aircraft. The Special Flight Detachment "Russia" transports Putin, government officials, and foreign delegations—the country's equivalent of Air Force One. If the Kremlin can't keep its most privileged fleet safe, what does that tell us about military aviation and the broader defense industry? The documents show a clear chain: imported systems fail, repair is impossible, domestic alternatives don't work, and reliability collapses. Quietly, systematically, irreversibly.
Then we turn to a story that sounds absurd until you see the evidence. UEFA fined Ukraine €15,000 for fans displaying a banner reading "Russia is a terrorist state"—the exact language used by NATO and the European Parliament. But that's just the surface.
Our investigation into how UEFA ended up on Putin's team reveals that European football's governing body has transferred over €10.8 million to Russian clubs since the full-scale invasion began. Russian teams don't play, but they still collect "solidarity payments." They don't compete, but UEFA keeps awarding them coefficient points for future tournament slots. And while five Ukrainian clubs from war zones can't access their payments due to banking obstacles, Moscow's money flows uninterrupted.
It gets worse. Ten Russian officials remain on UEFA committees, including Alexander Dyukov—head of the Russian Football Union and chairman of Gazprom Neft, the oil company with its own private military unit that fought in Bakhmut. In 2023, UEFA tried to bring Russian youth teams back until Ukraine and eleven other nations threatened a boycott. And despite the supposed sponsorship ban, Gazprom's logo appeared on Red Star Belgrade jerseys in the Champions League. Some boycott.
From institutions failing Ukraine, we move to people refusing to surrender. In Kherson region, a small pig farm keeps operating despite three drone and missile strikes in December alone. Owner Sergiy Kasyanov calls it "a game of Battleships"—some buildings hold animals, some are empty, and every Russian strike is a gamble.
KSG Agro is among the 13% of Ukrainian businesses that never stopped working. But the cost is brutal. One employee was killed in a drone attack on her car. Her husband was critically wounded. They have two children. The team has shrunk from 90 workers to 20. Power cuts last 15+ hours daily. Russian FPV drones hunt civilians in what locals call a "human safari."
Yet Kasyanov's farm keeps feeding Ukraine and exporting grain to Africa and Asia—regions no one else can supply at scale. "If the war stops, in Kherson, we'll immediately have a different life," he says. "We are dreaming and believing in a time when it will stop."
Our next story comes from inside a Ukrainian POW facility. Arash Darbandi is a 34-year-old photographer from Iran who came to Russia to take tourist photos and ended up forced into combat.
After an altercation with police in St. Petersburg, Darbandi was given a choice: three to five years in prison, or one year at war. He tried to escape by deliberately breaking his own arm during training. It didn't matter—they sent him anyway. His account reveals how Russia treats foreign conscripts: housed separately from Russians, given almost no training, pushed to the front first. Before deployment, officers told them "dead people don't need food."