Economic Empowerment in Zhytomyr: All Kinds of Hats
“My name is Natalya. I grew up in the village of Troshchyn and moved to Zhytomyr to go to technical school. Now I’m a seamstress of hats.”
This self-introduction by the youngest of the women employed at the social sewing enterprise Barvysta, supported by the OSCE Project Co-ordinator in Ukraine, could have ended on a much darker note had she gone through with the idea of getting a first job abroad.
The town of Zytomyr in north-western Ukraine is not an easy place to make a living. The Zytomyr region ranks among the lowest nationwide in terms of production, salaries and jobs (22nd out of 25 in a 2015 government survey of socio-economic development[1]). It is famous for its sewing factories, yet only two per cent of qualified graduates find jobs. For those without practical experience, chances are almost nil. No wonder many look twice at the recruitment posters that hang on every lamppost for going to work abroad.
Poland is one of the most popular destinations, according to International Organization for Migration statistics. All of the seamstresses currently working at the sewing studio, Barvysta (the word means “colourful” in Ukrainian), previously at least toyed with the idea of finding employment there. Not that the prospect of leaving the country was really attractive, or that they were unaware of the dangers – deception, exploitation or even human trafficking. “Ukraine, after all, is dearer to us,” says Oksana, 29. But in one way or another, each had seen herself pushed to a limit and found it hard to see how she could stay.
For Oksana, things started not too badly. Right after high school, her mother managed to arrange work for her, sewing children’s T-shirts, aprons and uniforms. But a string of disappointing jobs later, she was broke, in bad health and disillusioned. The first job was paid by the piece. When the orders ran out, she left. At a second, in a shoe factory, the glue damaged her lungs. A third, sewing baby bedding, paid very poorly; the owner was not interested in developing the business. All three jobs were under the table. “Everyone works unofficially in Zhytomyr. In many factories, you are like a slave. They can give you an order, or not,” she says. To make matters worse, she found herself in a domestic situation where she was subject to violence at home. She thought of going to Poland. In fact she went so far as to visit the recruitment office in the shopping centre downtown. “They offered to arrange a steady job in a sewing factory – or maybe a cannery.” She might have gone, had she had the money to pay the fee required up front. But then she found an ad on the Internet for Barvysta. It offered not only employment but also accommodation in a safe shelter. She decided to stay.
Irina Babenko heads the Women’s Information and Consultation Centre (WICC) which runs Barvysta. She is acutely aware of the risks of working abroad. They are listed, from bad to worse, on the Centre’s website: indebtedness, illegal employment, confiscation of documents, isolation from the outside world, blackmail, mental or physical abuse. But from long years of experience – WICC has been helping women in distress since 2000 – she also knows that such warnings are often ineffective deterrents. Any risk pales in light of current reality for people who find themselves at an impasse. More effective can be a change to the here and now: even a small improvement to what seems like an unlivable situation can turn it into one where life can go on. That is the thinking behind Barvysta.
Barvysta started from a few old sewing machines, which WICC had on hand, and an idea: if the equipment could be stocked up and modernized enough to permit professional production, it could be used to start a small commercial atelier. The business could offer employment to victims of trafficking or persons who might be at risk. At the same time, the revenues could be used to fund WICC’s other anti-trafficking work.
The studio started operation in August 2015. It is still very small: there are five women employed so far. But for each, it has provided something crucial for setting their lives back on track: a first official job without prior experience; re-training in new, competitive skills; a regular salary; respite from an abusive work environment. A senior seamstress assists the employees with the technique of sewing the shirts and blouses that are the atelier’s first production line. “When we started sewing blouses, Aliona showed us everything calmly – no screaming, no throwing things. It’s very unusual,” says Inna, Oksana’s friend from a previous job.
Svetlana comes from farther afield than her colleagues: she is an internally displaced person from Donetsk. For her, Barvysta has meant not having to pick up and leave once again. When the war broke out, her husband left and she found herself alone with two children. She sent them to live with her aunt in Zhytomyr. Her parents came, too, after her father narrowly escaped being killed by a bomb that exploded in their yard. She herself stayed behind, to look after the house and hold her job as long as she could. She worked for the railway as a process engineer, in a job she had held for 15 years. In January, she came to Zhytomyr to join her family – and start a new life.
Finding employment with the railway proved impossible: “I went to all the companies in the region, was tested, went to interviews, but could not find a position. There are reductions taking place; they are transforming the railway from a state enterprise to a joint stock company,” she says. Six months later, feeling unable to impose on her aunt any longer, she, her parents and children had moved to a two-room flat. The children were going to school. She was still without a job. How to sustain them? What should she do? She thought of going to Kyiv. She thought of going to Poland, where relatives worked on poultry farms. In the end, her earlier training as a seamstress – during her studies she had worked for half a year in a sewing factory – helped her out. A priest, for whom she sewed some vestments, introduced her to WICC. And in August she joined Barvysta.
“What does Barvysta mean for me? First of all, it’s a job. The salary is tiny compared with my previous earnings, but together with the social assistance I get for the children I can make ends meet. But Barvysta is more – the benefits are also psychological. All of us gathered here have interesting destinies, difficult paths. We all support each other, and this helps. As we improve our professional skills, as the sales process becomes more effective and our products are bought, I hope our salaries will increase, too. I think a lot of bright minds are working on this project, and I believe we can make it work,” Svetlana explains.
Social enterprises are businesses and, as such, need to make money. But their real objective is not profit; it is making a difference in people’s lives. This makes them complicated to manage, especially in Ukraine, where they are still uncommon and relevant laws and regulations are not in place.
That is where the OSCE comes in. The Project Co-ordinator in Ukraine (PCU)) has expertise in economic empowerment, and can draw on the know-how of long-established social enterprises in other participating States that successfully provide employment for the disabled. At the same time, the team has years of experience in assisting the government and NGOs with preventing trafficking in human beings.
In 2014, the PCU launched a project to adapt the social enterprise model to assist persons at risk of trafficking. It is helping several Ukrainian anti-trafficking NGOs to realize their business ideas – Barvysta is one. At the same time, it is advocating for legislative reform in support of social enterprises that can help make their activities sustainable.
Social enterprises are not meant to replace regular businesses. They are tools for social intervention. People take from them what they need and, strengthened, they move on. Sometimes, however, what someone needs most is not to be rushed into moving on.
Anna is the most recent arrival at Barvysta. But in fact, this is her second time at WICC. Disabled from birth, Anna’s life story is a litany of abuse. She spent her childhood in public orphanages and shelters in Kyiv, dreaming of having a family. A woman who offered to fulfill that dream took her in, but sold her to a criminal ring. For a long time, stripped of her documents, she panhandled in the streets of Kyiv. On her own initiative, she contacted the International Organization for Migration, who sent her for rehabilitation to WICC in Zhytomyr. She stayed for four years, living in the shelter which WICC maintains and learning basic computer skills.
But in 2010, WICC’s funding was cut, and it seemed the shelter might have to be closed. Anna moved out and stayed with friends, first in Zhytomyr, then Volodarsk-Volynsk, then Lugansk. In Lugansk she disappeared from the radar, for years. WICC lost touch with her in 2012. In November 2015, Babenko received a telephone call: “Irina Germanovna, save me.” It came from Odessa.
Anna was found on Deribassovskaya Street, in the extreme cold, with hands and legs exposed. She had fallen into the hands of traffickers who forced her to beg on the street from morning to night. Somehow, she had managed to get a phone and use one of her rare toilet breaks to call. WICC mobilized contacts in Odessa, who whisked her away from the street and got her onto the last bus out. Now she is back at WICC, and part of Barvysta.
“She’ll help us with our advertising, send out information about the company and our clothes. So there is work for her,” Babenko explains. “But first she has to get better, after all she’s been through.”
Anna’s story highlights an advantage of social enterprises over social programmes that depend on donor funding. They can provide the sustainability that is essential when people’s wellbeing is at stake. The OSCE is paying particular attention to giving Barvysta and the other enterprises it is supporting all the training they need in building sound business plans for the long term.
The OSCE’s support is budgeted for five years, but Barvysta is not a project with an end date. For the first time in her life, Anna, when asked how long she will stay, can answer, “maybe forever”.
For Oksana and Inna, a month and a half was sufficient; now they have moved to another place of work. “It was time to try something new, and there may be others who need Barvysta more. They helped us to write our resumes – I didn’t know how to do that before. And they call us to ask how we’re doing,” Oksana says.
Svetlana sees her future back in Donetsk. But no longer as a railway engineer. The work at Barvysta, more than an emergency measure, is becoming a chance to change her career. “I felt comfortable in the railway. But now, I like sewing. I want to develop in this area. Tailoring also interests me.”
Natalya will continue to grow, as a seamstress of hats. She has already arranged to bring her patterns to Barvysta, and one day she will open her own studio. “I will make hats. Children’s hats, women’s, men’s – all kinds of hats.”
The project “Prevention of Human Trafficking in Ukraine through the Economic Empowerment of Vulnerable Persons” is implemented by the OSCE Project Co-ordinator in Ukraine with financial support from the governments of Canada and Norway. It aims to create new economic opportunities for victims of trafficking and vulnerable groups, including internally displaced persons, as well as to strengthen NGOs’ capacity to provide services to trafficked victims in a sustainable manner.
This article is based on information provided by Igor Sergeiev, National Project Officer, OSCE Project Co-ordinator in Ukraine. Note: The names of Barvysta employees have been changed to protect their privacy.
[1] Survey by the Ministry of Regional Development of Ukraine published in October 2015.