Rejoicing in the happier moments
Olga has reached the age of retirement but continues to work. “Staying at home would be silly,” she tells OSCE SMM monitoring officers, not least because she worries that her patients would be unable to afford to travel to the neighbouring hospital in Kurakhove. Most of them are unemployed and cannot even afford the 40 hryvnia (some 1.25 Euro) return trip, she explains.
In the hospital and in her wider community, Olga is seen by everyone as an irreplaceable mainstay of society. From a distance though, she is practically invisible. Hardly registered by the outside world, she and thousands of other women defy ongoing violence every day to ensure that schools, hospitals, and other centres of care remain functioning. Far from the glare of media attention, these women work to support their families and ensure that life continues in the most difficult of circumstances. Their efforts contribute to much-needed social cohesion. In the hospital where Olga works, 50 of the 55 doctors and all of the 121 nurses are women.
These numbers are typical, highlighting the responsibilities that the conflict has placed on the shoulders of women all along the contact line, with many working under the most trying of circumstances. In 2014 and 2015, when Krasnohorivka was regularly subjected to shelling, Olga and her colleagues worked for months without electricity, heating or water, forced to administer medicine by candlelight and wash their uniforms with rain water.
Although violence has abated since then, the town and in particular the hospital are still within range of artillery and mortar pieces that should have been withdrawn a long time ago. The heavy weapons remain an ever present danger, especially in Olga’s mind as her only son perished under shelling. Although loss and danger are never far away, she and the other employees of the hospital remain defiantly upbeat, rejoicing in the happier moments that punctuate hospital life. “Despite the gloom that the conflict has shed over our life, my heart still fills with joy when an HIV-positive woman gives birth to a HIV-negative child,” she says.
Olga tells the OSCE SMM monitoring officers that the conflict will negatively affect the fight against HIV/AIDS in Ukraine. She explains that often harmful survival practices exacerbate the problem; treatment is often delayed as conflict brings other priorities; and access to services and treatment is problematic as security concerns entail restrictions.
Now that the level of kinetic activity has decreased, her concerns have shifted to the longer-term health effects of the conflict. People living on the contact line are struggling to survive. “The difficult socio-economic conditions are likely to shorten the life expectancy of HIV-positive patients, who, more than anybody else, need a proper diet, clean water and a stress-free environment,” she says.
Despite everything, Olga maintains an optimistic attitude. She laments being cut off from nearby Donetsk city, remembering fondly Sherbakova Park and Pushkina Boulevard. “I would like to see again the roses of Donetsk,” she says.
In the hospital and in her wider community, Olga is seen by everyone as an irreplaceable mainstay of society. From a distance though, she is practically invisible. Hardly registered by the outside world, she and thousands of other women defy ongoing violence every day to ensure that schools, hospitals, and other centres of care remain functioning. Far from the glare of media attention, these women work to support their families and ensure that life continues in the most difficult of circumstances. Their efforts contribute to much-needed social cohesion. In the hospital where Olga works, 50 of the 55 doctors and all of the 121 nurses are women.
These numbers are typical, highlighting the responsibilities that the conflict has placed on the shoulders of women all along the contact line, with many working under the most trying of circumstances. In 2014 and 2015, when Krasnohorivka was regularly subjected to shelling, Olga and her colleagues worked for months without electricity, heating or water, forced to administer medicine by candlelight and wash their uniforms with rain water.
Although violence has abated since then, the town and in particular the hospital are still within range of artillery and mortar pieces that should have been withdrawn a long time ago. The heavy weapons remain an ever present danger, especially in Olga’s mind as her only son perished under shelling. Although loss and danger are never far away, she and the other employees of the hospital remain defiantly upbeat, rejoicing in the happier moments that punctuate hospital life. “Despite the gloom that the conflict has shed over our life, my heart still fills with joy when an HIV-positive woman gives birth to a HIV-negative child,” she says.
Olga tells the OSCE SMM monitoring officers that the conflict will negatively affect the fight against HIV/AIDS in Ukraine. She explains that often harmful survival practices exacerbate the problem; treatment is often delayed as conflict brings other priorities; and access to services and treatment is problematic as security concerns entail restrictions.
Now that the level of kinetic activity has decreased, her concerns have shifted to the longer-term health effects of the conflict. People living on the contact line are struggling to survive. “The difficult socio-economic conditions are likely to shorten the life expectancy of HIV-positive patients, who, more than anybody else, need a proper diet, clean water and a stress-free environment,” she says.
Despite everything, Olga maintains an optimistic attitude. She laments being cut off from nearby Donetsk city, remembering fondly Sherbakova Park and Pushkina Boulevard. “I would like to see again the roses of Donetsk,” she says.