A bicycle light cuts through the darkness during a power outage in Yevpatoria, Crimea. Photograph: Alexey Pavlishak/Reuters This was reported by Qazaqyia.kz citing The Guardian.

First, the guests stopped coming. As Ukrainian drones and missiles pounded Crimea throughout the spring and into the summer, Russian tourists began cancelling their bookings at the small guesthouse Marina runs in Yevpatoria, a resort town on the peninsula's Black Sea coast. This was reported by Qazaqyia.kz citing The Guardian.

Then petrol became scarce, making it harder to stock the business with food and other essentials. Now, electricity and running water are cut off for much of the day, just as the summer heat sets in.

"For 12 years they told us Crimea was 100% protected," Marina said, referring to the promises Russian officials have made since seizing it from Ukraine in 2014. "And then, within a month, we've been thrown back into the Stone Age – no electricity, no water, no fuel."

Since the start of this year, Kyiv has launched its largest sustained air campaign against Crimea, targeting both the peninsula and the land and sea transport links connecting it to Russia. Residents are facing the most severe disruption to daily life since its annexation in 2014.

It was the first Russian-controlled region to experience the acute motor fuel shortages that have since spread to Russia. The Kremlin-installed authorities last month declared a state of emergency and temporarily banned sales to private motorists in an effort to preserve supplies for the military and emergency services.

But as Ukrainian drones increasingly targeted the peninsula's energy infrastructure, the crisis has quickly moved beyond petrol. More than 70% of Crimea's roughly 2.5 million residents have experienced some form of power outage, according to a Guardian analysis, while many have now gone several consecutive days without electricity or running water.

Interviews with more than a dozen residents across Crimea pointed to a growing sense of abandonment and frustration with both the Russian-installed authorities and Moscow, as Kyiv seeks to turn the peninsula "into an island".

The festivals, summer camps and beach events that once filled Crimea's season have been cancelled. In their place, long queues for petrol and a daily search for somewhere to shower and charge a phone. "We're surviving, not living," one resident said.

Aleksei, a Crimean native who supported Russia's annexation of the peninsula in 2014, says his restaurant has been largely empty this summer as tourists stayed away, while shortages and disrupted supply routes have made it increasingly difficult to source fresh produce from outside the peninsula.

"The authorities kept insisting Crimea was ready for anything. Literally anything. It turns out the authorities failed to prepare for the worst," he says. "People are hunting for fuel like it's The Hunger Games."

Like others interviewed by the Guardian, Aleksei asked for his surname to be withheld for security reasons. Crimea is home to one of Russia's most pervasive and repressive security apparatuses that has left many people fearful of speaking openly. Public expressions of dissent are rare.

Comments beneath officials' social media posts have, however, become flooded with pleas for help from people who say they cannot contact relatives, buy food or cope with the prolonged outages.

"Belogorsk has been without electricity for more than 70 hours, and all we keep getting are promises," read one of dozens of comments addressed to Crimea's Russian-installed head, Sergei Aksyonov.

Local Telegram chats have turned into improvised survival guides, with residents swapping tips on where fuel has just arrived, setting alarms for late-night voucher releases, sharing maps of the shortest queues and informing each other which neighbourhoods still have electricity or running water.

Since it was seized by Russia in 2014 amid the turmoil of Ukraine's Maidan revolution, which ousted the country's pro-Russian president, Crimea has been transformed into one of the Kremlin's most strategically important territories.

In 2022, it became the main staging ground for the invasion of southern Ukraine, where Russian forces advanced far more rapidly than in their failed assault on Kyiv. Since the full-scale invasion, its military infrastructure has been used for air attacks and battlefield support. Moscow has also encouraged hundreds of thousands of Russians to settle on the peninsula.

The 2014 annexation – of what for many Russians is seen as a desirable region of warm weather and beaches – sent Vladimir Putin's approval ratings soaring and, for years, annual celebrations marking Crimea's "return" served as choreographed displays of Russian military power and national resurgence.

By targeting Crimea – long held up by the Kremlin as the crown jewel of Putin's rule – Ukraine hopes to strengthen its hand in any future peace negotiations, says Rob Lee, a military analyst and senior fellow at the Foreign Policy Research Institute.

"Ukraine has more leverage in future negotiations than it did before because it can now reliably strike almost any target in Crimea."

Ukraine has focused its strikes on the main transport routes supplying Crimea, particularly the Novorossiya highway, a key logistics corridor linking the peninsula to Russia's Rostov region through the occupied territories.