This massive power station has been targeted so many times that workers here eventually stopped replacing the windows.

Nearly a year after Russia’s last attack, the glass is still shattered and planked with plywood. In the lobby, a digital display that once tracked the generation of electricity sits dark. Energy infrastructure, like this station, is at the heart of the 30-day partial ceasefire agreed to by Russia and Ukraine with the United States — a deal so tenuous that The Washington Post agreed not to identify the location of the facility during a visit last month, should it fail.

When Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky first proposed a total ceasefire at sea and in the air — which Russia did not agree to — it was partly in hopes of starting repairs on the country’s power grid, including this facility run by DTEK, the nation’s largest private energy producer. Ukraine’s energy infrastructure has long been in Russia’s crosshairs, leading to years of rolling blackouts that plunged even Kyiv’s traffic lights into darkness.

As winter fades to spring, Ukraine’s energy grid has become a less enticing target — though an end to attacks on it was traded for a Ukrainian pledge to stop long-range drone strikes on Russian oil and gas infrastructure. Still, Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov warned last week that the assault would continue again “if the Kyiv regime fails to comply.”

Nearly every day, however, Russia has accused Ukraine of violating this ceasefire, repeatedly pointing to a strike on a gas metering station in Kursk and another on an electrical distribution company’s facility in nearby Belgorod. Ukraine has countered that a recent Russian attack hit facilities belonging to Naftogaz, Ukraine’s largest oil and gas company. For the most part, though, the ceasefire appears to be holding — but only weeks remain.

Russian strikes against Ukrainian cities, however, have continued at a brutal pace, killing scores of people — including children — in recent weeks.

Despite these simmering tensions, on a recent spring day, workers at the power plant were in high spirits. A celebrity visitor had arrived to meet with them: Boxer Oleksandr Usyk — in a partnership with DTEK — was visiting their plant in recognition of their daily battle to keep the lights on.

During air raids, the plant’s essential workers suit up in hard hats and heavy flak jackets and hunker down, hoping the protective wall of sandbags will hold against flying shrapnel, while the rest of the employees seek refuge in the shelter. Since the start of the full-scale invasion, 76 employees of DTEK have been wounded, and five have died.

In 2022, seven missiles hit here. Repairs were possible thanks to backup machinery, but last year, another 10 missiles arced through the early morning quiet, slamming into the facility just before dawn and setting off what a DTEK spokesperson called another cycle of “destruction, renewal, destruction, renewal again.”

At some point, backup machinery can no longer replace what’s been lost, necessitating the import of expensive and bulky parts from elsewhere in Europe. On the line are people’s lives — the ability to cook, to heat homes in frigid temperatures, to attend school or go to work, to function.

The manager of the boiler department, Oleksandr — who, like other workers, spoke on the condition that only his first name be used, to avoid Russia identifying the plant — described how huge amounts of manpower had helped fix the plant, only to see it “shelled again, and now we’re renewing again.”

A 43-year veteran of the facility, he was once scared, “then we got used to it.” He paused, considering, then backpedaled: “Well, you can’t get used to it, you understand? But this is my profession. … Even when rockets were flying, operative personnel have to stay in place.”

In three years of war, Russia has targeted Ukrainian energy infrastructure in 1,300 missile strikes and 1,000 drone attacks, according to data from Ukrenergo, Ukraine’s state electricity distributor, resulting in destruction of or damage to 90 percent of DTEK’s thermal generation capacity and 45 percent of its hydroelectric capacity.

In a September report, the United Nations Human Rights Monitoring Mission in Ukraine found that there were “reasonable grounds to believe that multiple aspects of the military campaign to damage or destroy Ukraine’s civilian electricity and heat-producing and transmission infrastructure have violated foundational principles of international humanitarian law.”

More than 50 times throughout the war, workers rebuilt thermal power plants like this one. Oleksandr and his wife, who also works here, have long wished for a lasting ceasefire, “especially because we’ve been working on repairs. Especially because … this work gets destroyed.”

Around the corner from them, posing for photos amid the rubble with a leather punching bag and puffy yellow boxing gloves, was the man who the boiler department manager said “was like our mayor now, advocating for DTEK” — the renowned Usyk.

It is a measure of how beleaguered Ukraine’s energy infrastructure is that a celebrity as big as Usyk would visit this windswept corner of Ukraine to draw attention to the damage.

Think 3.3 million Instagram followers. Think one half of a boxing match so high-stakes that Canadian rapper Drake bet — and lost — a half-million dollars on it. Think a heavyweight championship belt, the hallmark of four major world titles, so prized that Zelensky flew it to Washington as a gift for U.S. President Donald Trump, only to leave it behind, unpresented, after the stormy Oval Office visit.

“Maybe it’s still there,” Zelensky told Time last month.

The White House did not respond to questions about the belt, though Time reported it was now in Trump’s private dining room.

If a tentative ceasefire — riddled with accusations from both sides — couldn’t cheer these workers up, a visit from Usyk might.

It was his first time at a thermal power plant, and what he saw reminded him of an apocalyptic movie set, he said: all twisted metal, mangled machinery and empty window frames. Later, he would post online that the visit with workers “deeply moved” him, as he called for international support and protection for Ukrainian energy.

The boxer finished up and followed a guide into a central control room, where workers in hard hats were waiting. In a corner of the space, next to a pile of sandbags, a black-and-white cat named Murka — star of a previous Post story — ate kibble off a scrap of paper.

The workers clustered around Usyk, handing over photos, baseball caps and posters for him to sign — then even the hard hats atop their heads. The boxer disappeared into a storm of gray uniforms and outstretched pens. A 51-year-old shift supervisor named Serhii took in the scene, laughing and saying that his 17-year-old son had skipped school for a chance at meeting Usyk in the parking lot.

His phone buzzed. He answered a call from the boy, assuring him: “Wait there, wait there. He’ll come out.”

Finally, Usyk turned to the halo of cameras and microphones shoved in his direction. He was grateful, he told reporters, that his home still had light, that the workers were fighting in a very different kind of trench. He was touched by the visit.

“I’m impressed that people despite these attacks keep working here,” he said.

When asked about his championship belt — and if Trump deserved it — he paused, then said: “You know, whether or not he deserves it is not an issue. If it would lead to peace in our country, I’d be prepared to give up all of my belts.”

previous coverage

• Germany sees Ukraine truce efforts as deadlocked, while China calls talks encouraging

related stories

• Finland to raise defense spending and exit landmine ban