For a few days in mid-October, residents of Tura, a remote town in Siberia's vast taiga, might have been excused if they thought they were back in the U.S.S.R. One woman, in fact, said the situation was "worse than it was under the Soviets."
With temperatures hitting minus 15 Celsius, locals young and old stood in line for hours at a time outside the main food shop to buy a few bare necessities such as potatoes, cabbage, eggs, and milk and to fathom the precipitous prices they had to pay if they managed to reach the counter.
Efforts to establish a system allowing customers to head back to the relative warmth of their homes and return when their number came up --- a common tactic amid the frequent food shortages of the Soviet era -- fell flat.
"The vendors said, 'If you want to eat, you have to wait in line,'" said Svetlana, whose last name is being withheld for her safety. "There were no exceptions, even for children or the elderly."
"Then they started limiting quantities, no more than 1 kilogram per person. Literally something like a single potato for each family member, and every family member has to show up to get it," Svetlana said. "It's come to this: great Russia, rationing potatoes."
The shortages did not stem from Russia's invasion of Ukraine, although the nearly five-year full-scale war has taken a heavy toll on the town, claiming at least 34 men among its 4,000 residents and damaging its economy.
Instead, they resulted from a combination of formidable logistical challenges and poor planning -- a problem that is pervasive and sometimes deadly in Russia.
No road reaches Tura from Krasnoyarsk, the regional capital over 1,000 km to the southwest, and the town's lifeline is the Nizhnyaya Tuguska River. When low water levels made it unnavigable in July, authorities failed to establish an adequate alternative supply route, and shortages of many fresh foods hit this month.
Prosecutors have launched a criminal investigation against several officials on suspicion of negligence.
Some items such as fruit, meat, dairy products, flour, and bottled water all but disappeared, and prices more than tripled by official counts.
"Look at these prices: 1,100 to 1,300 rubles ($13-16) for a kilo of cucumbers," Svetlana said, adding that cucumbers had run out before her turn came. "1,800 ($22) for green onions, 1,000 for onions! Forget about peppers and tomatoes."
A store in Tula sold onions and carrots for 1,000 rubles ($12.40) per kilogram.
Olga, another local resident, said her mother had to come to the store because the staff wouldn't let her buy the elderly woman's share on her behalf.
Other families "brought little children with them. Otherwise, they wouldn't have given out rations for each person -- even though the saleswoman knows how many people are in the family," Olga said. "We didn't have such horrors even under the Soviets, my mother said. She remembers."
After a major crunch in mid-October, food is now being flown in by air and rationed, with limits on how much a single person or a family can buy.
But the most recent shipment was missing potatoes, onions, and cabbage after two flights were postponed due to weather. Food lines have persisted despite the resumption of air deliveries.
Winter On The Way
On October 21, the district administration reported that food supplies at several local schools would not last past the end of the month. Residents say the food that has been flown in has been bought up quickly, and they worry about getting through the winter. When the river freezes over, though, it can serve as a road.
"The shop assistants are trying to reassure us, saying there's still some grain left over, pasta, canned goods," Svetlana said. "What, are we going to feed the kids canned goods all winter?"
For some, the town's current predicament is a result of developments that have altered life in Tura over the years, both before and after Russia launched its war against Ukraine.
"Back then, we fed ourselves [by] hunting and fishing. And the supplies [brought in by the state] were plentiful," Olga said of the Soviet era. "Now there are no fish in the river, no reindeer."
Tura is at the heart of an area once populated mainly by Evenks, members of an ethnic group of traditionally nomadic reindeer herders who have lived in Siberia and other parts of North Asia for centuries. About 900 of Tura's 4,000 residents have Evenk roots.
The town was built on the site of an Evenk camp in 1927 and was the seat of the Evenk Autonomous District until President Vladimir Putin's government folded it into the Krasnoyarsk Krai in 2007, a downgrade at the hands of a state that activists say is suppressing the cultures of indigenous groups and other minorities.
'It's Obvious Why: To Make Money'
Since the start of Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the state has lured men to the front by offering substantial benefits and signing bonuses, incentives that are particularly attractive in economically struggling regions where jobs are scarce.
Mourners attend the funeral of a local Tura man killed in Russia's war against Ukraine.
Among numerous reports with similar findings, a March 2025 report from the US-based Wilson Center think tank said men from Russia's indigenous communities "have been recruited at above-average rates and experienced higher-than-average combat death rates."
"About 20-25 of us [Evenks] have gone [to war] over the past four years," Tura resident Kachikan said. "Half have already died. Six have been buried, but there are some who have been missing for a long time, so it's unlikely they'll be found alive."
"Two members of the Udygir family have already [been killed], Timur and Romka. They're cousins, Oleg and Yury's sons. Dmitry, who's also related, hasn't been in touch in a while; there'll be a death notice about him soon, too," Kachikan said.
"He went on a contract. It's obvious why: to make money," he said. "There's no work here. The oil industry? They don't hire our people, only shift workers. You can't even get a job as a cook."
Another Evenk, Volodya Oyogir, "went missing in 2025, and there was a funeral this year; he was declared dead. His wife had been searching for him since the previous March," Kachikan said.
"Volodya was a good hunter from a prominent family," he said, pointing to his grandfather Nikolai Oyogir, a prominent Evenk poet and folklorist who died in 1988. "His poems were published in Soviet journals, he worked at a newspaper. And his grandson died in the war. Such is fate."
SEE ALSO:
For Some In Russia's Far-Flung Provinces, Ukraine War Is A Ticket To ProsperityA database maintained by the Russian-language outlet Mediazona lists 34 war dead from Tura. It includes the Udygir cousins, who died at age 30 and 42, respectively, and Oyogir, who was 37 when he was declared dead.
"What kind of life is this? Folk crafts have been destroyed. Fishing has effectively ceased as a source of income," said Vladimir, a Tura resident.
"The Tunguska has been flooded with oil, so there are almost no fish left," Vladimir said, apparently referring to spills that polluted the river in 2023 and 2024.
"The nearest reindeer herds are beyond Surinda," a settlement some 400 kilometers away, he said. "There's no real government support, and the prices are exorbitant. That's why people go to this [war]."