Since the start of the war, when men were called to the front lines and forced to stay in the country by martial law, millions of women have fled Ukraine for their lives and the lives of their children. A year later, many are still living in refugee centers or foster families and are fighting this war as all women have done in other conflicts throughout history: in silence.
It's 12 in the morning and a thick thread of light slips through the bedroom window. The place is small, barely 15 square meters, and is provided with the bare minimum: three bunk beds, a table, and two chairs. The atmosphere, so charged, is almost unbreathable. Liliya Bidash, 38, holds her six-month-old daughter Irina, who infects everyone with her laughter.
On July 18, 2022, as Russia launched missile attacks against the population of Odessa, Liliya went into labor. “Giving birth in the middle of the war was horrible, and especially terrifying for the baby. They were shelling the city, so there was a high probability that one of the shells would hit the hospital. They could have cut off the electricity, shot at the hospital or bombed it. We were very scared." After three months, as a result of the stress caused by the constant shootings, Liliya stopped producing breast milk and had to stop breastfeeding Irina.
“During the last days that we were in Odessa there was no electricity or communications; it became more and more difficult to stay there. We lost connection with the volunteers and stopped receiving food.” They were unable to leave Ukraine earlier because she was still recovering from the caesarean section and they had no means of transportation.
On December 18 they managed to flee. Since then, Liliya and her three children have been crammed into this room in the Popeasca reception center, in the Stefan Voda district of Moldova. Liliya, like other Ukrainian mothers, has received guidance on breastfeeding and nutrition from Mamica Alapteaza, a local organization supported by Action Against Hunger and UNICEF. “Irina is growing big and beautiful. She has gained weight since we arrived and I started giving her the dairy supplements”, she assures.
Liliya's husband could have left Ukraine with his wife and children, because they are a large family, but he chose to stay in case he was called up. She couldn't choose. “If I didn't have children, I would have stayed to fight. I think that war is definitely more difficult for men, because they are weaker. When something happens to them, many run away, get scared or depressed. Every time my husband calls me I have to help him calm down, because it's wrong. Women, especially those of us with children, don't have time to get depressed, we have to keep fighting; We must be strong".
But not all women who fled Ukraine today live in centers or with foster families. Vera Derevenko has been in the Palanca refugee camp for a year, the Moldovan city closest to the border. The day she arrived, Vera was 73 years old and very afraid of bombs. She left her home in search of a safe place, and now that she's found it, she doesn't want to leave. “I don't move from here because it scares me. Here I feel safer. If I go to live in someone's house, I could never feel as free as here, I would always feel like a foreigner. I feel very welcome here, ”she explains.
The camp is a crossing point where Action Against Hunger and its local partner Communitas distribute aid. “When families arrive we offer them hot food, psychological assistance and advice on where to go,” says Cazoti Eugen, a Communitas volunteer. A year ago the number of daily arrivals ranged between 600 and 1000 people. Currently it is 30 or 40, depending on Russia's bombing of Ukraine.
A dozen rows of blue tents cover the surface of the field. The only one inhabited at the moment is Vera's, which stands out for a planter at the entrance. “I plant flowers outside my shop and talk to them with love. I don't ask God for anything, I just thank him for everything I have. Love is what keeps me going. I'm holding on, but I have little hope left. Even so, I will never give up or give up,” she says. Her volunteers offered to take her in, but she decided to stay at the camp to be closer to her home. “I have always lived my life following the circumstances, but I could never completely separate myself from Ukraine. That is where I was born, raised and where I have had the strongest love periods of my life. The only thing that matters to me is being close to home and getting back as soon as possible.”
The love of Vera Derevenko, the resilience of Liliya Bidash and each smile that Irina makes manage to silence for a few seconds the noise of the bombs that still prevent them from returning home today.
