On these days, she starts her morning early to finish household chores and prepare for what she calls a “social outing.” At exactly 10 a.m., she puts on her best dress and heads to the village House of Culture. There, “Pixel” awaits her – a small digital literacy center that has changed her life.“Pixel” is not just a room with computers. It is a bridge connecting generations – a space where children and young people explore programming and online safety, while seniors learn how to use modern technologies, schedule medical appointments, or pay their bills without spending hours in line.“Now I can pay my bills online and no longer lose half a day at the post office. I’ve created social media accounts and can easily communicate with my grandchildren, wherever they are. I know how to avoid scams and even create documents in Word and Excel. I’ve also discovered audiobooks – a wonderful invention for older people,” Olga says with a broad smile.What began as simple curiosity has become an essential part of her life. A former economist, Olga has always wanted to keep up with the times, and now that she lives alone, this desire has become even stronger. The courses at “Pixel” are not only a source of useful knowledge, but also an opportunity to socialize, keep her mind active, and stay connected to the modern world. “I’ve made friends here. We even have a team of ‘auntie hackers’. We’ve grown very close and managed to attract other villagers who were initially skeptical,” she adds.Behind this transformation is Elena Savelieva, the founder of the center and a refugee from Ukraine. A film director by profession, Elena worked for several years in Odesa, Ukraine. Together with her three children, she fled the war and settled in Proteagailovca, the home village of her husband’s parents. With no source of income, Elena spent a long time thinking about what kind of activity she could start that would provide a stable livelihood for her family, while also “giving back” to the community that had welcomed her.While caring for a relative with reduced mobility, Elena realized how important technology can be as a “window to social interaction”. As she explored the local context, she quickly noticed a significant digital divide in the village. “Eighty-five percent of students had only basic knowledge, and older people felt completely excluded from the world of technology. There was no place where they could learn these skills,” she recalls.“Now I can pay my bills online and no longer lose half a day at the post office. I’ve created social media accounts and can easily communicate with my grandchildren, wherever they are. I know how to avoid scams and even create documents in Word and Excel. I’ve also discovered audiobooks – a wonderful invention for older people.”Olga, a 63-year-old resident of the village of ProteagailovcaThis is how the idea of a social enterprise was born: a digital literacy center that would offer paid services, using the revenue generated to provide free courses for those who need digital skills but have limited means. Elena also planned to involve around four volunteers – students from nearby localities – in the center’s activities.At first, the idea seemed impossible to implement: there were no computers, no resources, and no infrastructure. Everything changed when “Pixel” received financial support from Sweden, the United Kingdom, and France, through the UNDP project “Advanced Cross-River Capacities for Trade” (AdTrade).The support meant more than just funding. With these resources, Elena purchased four modern laptops, a gaming console, VR headsets, and gamepads, which became standout features of the center’s interactive room. She also invested in promotion, creating flyers and posters that attracted people from the village and nearby communities to “Pixel”.Elena participated in seminars and took part in a study visit to Athens, where she explored European models of social enterprises and brought back new ideas. “For me, this support was more than funding – it was validation of my idea. This center is not a business in the traditional sense, but rather an initiative meant to help people, to support their integration and socialization. I had dreamed of this center for two years, but without this project’s support, I could not have made it happen. We also benefit from business mentorship provided by the Association of Social Entrepreneurs from the left bank of the Nistru River, which is extremely valuable for us,” Elena says.Today, “Pixel” is a vibrant space. In the mornings, two groups of four pensioners attend four-week courses, and the waiting list continues to grow. “Here we teach older participants how to avoid and protect themselves from online scams – especially after several villagers fell victim to them – how to distinguish misinformation from reality, and what artificial intelligence means,” explains the founder.For Olga and her friends, the “auntie hackers”, every Monday and Friday now feels like a celebration. “I feel like a student again,” Olga jokes as she prepares for her final test and the certificate that will attest to her digital skills. At 63, she no longer views technology with fear, but with enthusiasm.In the afternoon, the center transforms into a digital lab for children and teenagers, who build their own games or create presentations. “What inspires me most is the joy in children’s eyes when they create their first character, or the happiness of adults when they overcome their fear of technology. These small victories truly change lives,” Elena says.The impact, however, goes far beyond the classroom. Parents feel more at ease knowing their children are navigating the internet safely, older people feel part of modern society, and young volunteers discover the meaning of civic engagement. In a village of around 2,500 residents, “Pixel” has become a symbol of change.“Now we have a center that brings generations together. And this is only the beginning. Next, we want to bring technology into schools and explore together with students how artificial intelligence can be better utilized,” concludes Elena Savelieva.

In the Moldovan village of Varnița – located within the country’s security zone near the city of Bender, which is under the control of Transnistria’s de facto authorities – Marcela Mastac and Andrei Gramatschii have transformed their backgrounds in public communication and industrial design into a small family business that crafts handmade wooden toys. What started as a single toy made for a friend has grown into GUGA GAGA, a brand rooted in quality, sustainability, and care.Despite the complexities of living and working across internal checkpoints and under dual administrations, they have demonstrated that it is possible to operate efficiently within the security zone while maintaining stable and cooperative relationships. Their journey also illustrates that exporting isn’t the only route for high-value products – there is a growing demand within Moldova for locally made, high-quality goods. Marcela’s leadership underscores the strong yet often underutilized potential of women entrepreneurs in Moldova, whose creativity and determination continue to open new opportunities in the local market.The village of Varnița was at the heart of the 1992 Transnistrian War, when the Moldovan armed forces clashed with the forces of the separatist Transnistria region, which ultimately led to the creation of the self-proclaimed „Prednistrovian Moldovan Republic”.After the hostilities ended, Varnița remained under the administration of Moldova’s central authorities, while the adjacent city of Bender (also known as Tighina) and other nearby areas remained under the control of the de-facto authorities of the Transnistria region. From a bird view, Bender and its suburb Varnița look like parts of the same city – streets blend into one another, and houses line the same roads. But on the ground, life is anything but ordinary. Going to the market, visiting friends, or taking a child to school can mean carrying a passport, waiting at checkpoints, and constantly adjusting to whichever rules happen to apply on the specific site that a person is visiting.Young people growing up in the area have learned to navigate these arrangements, becoming resilient, flexible, and – most importantly – taking initiative to change things where they live.This is also the case for Marcela Mastac and Andrei Gramatschii, both born and raised in this part of Moldova. Marcela chose a path in communication and PR, while Andrei pursued industrial design. These two seemingly different paths eventually converged, first in private life and later gradually in the family business they would build together. Managing life in such a place is no game to toy around with – yet in the end, that is exactly what they do: they make toys, in the most direct and serious sense. They named their business „GUGA GAGA”, which resembles the first sounds made by a baby.Toys in MoldovaThe toy business in Moldova is booming. However, it is dominated by toys produced abroad, mostly in China. Imports have been steadily rising year after year, reaching almost 3,000 tons in 2024, worth more than half a billion Moldovan lei.  However, the real volume is almost certainly much higher, considering the countless items ordered online, carried in suitcases across the border, or brought in through the grey market.The flood of imports has come with a hidden cost. Beneath the bright plastic and low prices lies a worrying question of safety and quality. Consumer protection inspectors report a sharp rise in non-compliant toys over the past two years. In 2024 alone, nearly 850,000 toys were found not to meet legal standards – most often lacking conformity certificates.In this challenging climate, small businesses, artisans, and the few independent producers like Marcela and Andrei are trying to emerge in the market with something different: toys that are safe, well-made, and genuinely meaningful.How it all startedMarcela and Andrei’s story didn’t start with wood, screws, and children’s laughter. For a while, their lives looked like many others – stable jobs and freelance projects.“Before all this, Andrei was teaching at the Technical University, and in parallel we were offering graphic design and design packaging services, combined with marketing through our own small creative studio. What we did back then was all about soft skills and computers. Eventually, we transformed that experience into something very real, very tangible”, Marcela recalls.Andrei had always been restless with ideas. He sketched furniture, built prototypes, and even took part in international design competitions. What started as drawings often ended up as real pieces of furniture. The real turning point, however, came with something much smaller than a wardrobe: a busy board (a wooden playboard equipped with buttons, locks, wheels, switches, and other interactive elements designed to stimulate a young child’s curiosity and fine motoric skills). One of their friends wanted to make a special gift for a special occasion and asked if they could help.After they said yes, they obsessed over the materials, determined to make everything eco-friendly and safe for children. “We were stubborn about it,” says Marcela. “We wanted to work only with wood. If we were to include metal, every piece had to be food-grade stainless steel. I still remember how much work it took. We didn’t even have all the tools we needed back then.”The process was exhausting – but also incredibly rewarding. They realized this wasn’t just a one-off project. In the end, the busy board was highly appreciated, and the couple received a little over 1,600 Moldovan lei for their work. However, they decided that they wanted to do this full-time.The „lost and found” yearThey applied for a grant designed to support entrepreneurs in Moldova’s security zone, a buffer zone on both sides of the Dniester River created after the Transnistrian War. To qualify, they had to provide 50% co-financing – so they sold their car to make it happen. The effort paid off: the grant gave them their first real boost. The timing couldn’t have been better, since Andrei’s father, a carpenter by trade, was ready to roll up his sleeves and help.And then came the COVID-19 pandemic.They had just begun shifting from the digital world to physical production. At first, they thought it would be a smooth transition – it wasn’t. The delivery of the equipment they ordered was delayed again and again. What should have been four months turned into a full year. Andrei lost sleep, worrying that the machines would arrive damaged. “At first we hoped they wouldn’t come with scratches,” Marcela laughs, “but after a while it was like: dear God, just let them arrive.”But they didn’t waste that year. Instead, they worked on concepts, sketches, and illustrations – making sure that, when the machinery finally landed, they would be ready to hit the ground running. The equipment arrived in containers, disassembled like Lego. It took them more than a month to put it together.Marcela shakes her head at the memory:“– I don’t think I would ever do something like that again.”“– I think we would. We wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t gone down that road,” Andrei replies.“– Hmm, you are probably right.”They chose the name GUGA GAGA because it echoes the very first playful sounds of childhood. The brand grew from that simple idea – to create wooden toys that are safe, sustainable, and lasting by working with local wood and non-toxic materials.Rediscovering MoldovaAt first, their focus was entirely on export. Everything – from their Instagram page to their website – was in English, with the conviction that Moldova was not the right market for what they were building. “We were determined not to sell in Moldova, because we thought there was no public here for these products. But we weren’t right. We discovered, almost by accident, that there was a niche – people here want quality toys, made from natural, healthy, ecological materials.”Now their toys are bought more and more at home. They collaborate with a local courier service, but also sell directly at fairs, where Marcela insists toys should be presented: “These kinds of toys should be in a space where children come, play, test, and only then take them home. That’s why we try to be present at as many events and markets as possible.” Sales abroad still exist, but they are modest – often these are Moldovans sending toys through the “traditional courier” – the minivans carrying food and gifts to families in the diaspora.The business has not been without obstacles. The couple lives and works close to the internal de facto border of the separatist Transnistrian region, and near a military training ground across the river, where gunfire can sometimes be heard. “There are inconveniences,” Marcela says. “Even just passing through internal customs posts, we are asked what we are doing, what we are carrying. It creates constant small disturbances – a kind of nuisance.” The energy crisis at the beginning of 2025 also hit GUGA GAGA, though not fatally. Their workshop is connected to the grid on the left bank (the territory under the administration of de-facto Transnistrian authorities), which faced serious outages, but Marcela and Andrei had invested in energy-efficient equipment and reorganised their shifts in the workshop, sometimes working during the night hours.Competition exists, but Marcela points out that the market is flooded mostly with cheap imports of unknown quality. Artisans who do work with wood tend to operate without consistent standards. “You can’t go this month with a product made of walnut, and then next month sell the same product made of a different wood. Once you certify a toy, it always must be the same – with the same materials and the same pieces. We did this bureaucratic process”. This attention to quality, she argues, sets GUGA GAGA apart. “It is a very sensitive market segment, but at the same time neglected when it comes to quality control – whether in materials or in the smallest components, whether produced locally or imported”, Marcela adds.The Swiss supportIn 2024 and 2025, Marcela participated in the Swiss-supported business accelerator for women-entrepreneurs, organised by UN Women. The two-year programme provided training, mentorship, and a network of like-minded women entrepreneurs, along with business-expansion grants. GUGA GAGA invested the money in practical upgrades that make daily production smoother.“We bought a compact pneumatic sander. It is ideal for smoothing small, curved pieces. It helps us save significantly, which matters a lot in a small workshop like ours.”The financial injection also allowed them to assemble a pneumatic system on their own. “We carefully studied the components, bought the parts, and built it here. To purchase a full system outright would have costed up to €30,000 – far beyond our budget. Doing it piece by piece made it possible within a much smaller budget.”Future plansMarcela’s and Andrei’s dream is to one day be able to produce all the furniture for a room – whether for adults or children – in their own unique style. They are working now on small pieces – toys and some furniture, however, they would love to create a company that offers living solutions for the whole family.Today, GUGA GAGA is still very much a family affair. “I am more in the front – I handle marketing, posts, advertising, customer relations, which is my specialty. Andrei takes care of logistics and production, because his expertise is in industrial design and in creating new toys. We would like to involve other people in the production, so that we can focus on what we do best – me on promotion, him on designing good products,” Marcela says.Together, they keep going and building – one toy, one idea, one dream at a time.This article was produced under the “Finance for Her” programme, implemented by UN Women with the financial support of Switzerland, to advance women’s financial inclusion.

On an ordinary morning at the „Alexandr Pushkin” Theoretical Lyceum in Soroca, the classroom is filled with children’s voices and open notebooks on the desks. Among the pupils who confidently raise their hands to answer the teacher’s questions is Mihail Șerban, attentive and focused. For him, school is not only a place where he learns new lessons, but also a space where he feels encouraged, supported, and part of a community. „I like school! Here I learn, I have friends, and I discover new and interesting things. If I do not understand something, my teacher, Ms. Elina, explains it to me and helps me”, says Mihail, a third-grade pupil. Mihail is 11 years old and is the fourth child in a Roma family with six children. For the Roma community in the Republic of Moldova, access to education still remains a challenge. Factors such as poverty, lack of information, stereotypes, or previous experiences of discrimination can influence families’ decisions to send their children to school or to continue their education. However, when children and parents receive the right support from the school and the community, more and more children can attend classes regularly and continue their studies.At school, Mihail is known for his engagement and perseverance. For three years, he has achieved very good results and actively participates in lessons and classroom activities. He enjoys mathematics, the Russian language, and physical education, and his classmates describe him as friendly and always ready to help.Mihail’s story shows how important it is for every child, regardless of their ethnicity or the language they speak, to be supported in a safe and inclusive educational environment where they feel encouraged to learn. According to data from the Ministry of Education and Research, in September 2025, 2,029 Roma children (1,026 boys and 1,003 girls) were enrolled in general education institutions, compared to 1,687 in the previous year. This increase reflects the joint efforts of schools, families, and development partners to promote inclusive education and reduce the barriers faced by children from vulnerable communities.A classroom where every child mattersIn Mihail’s class, children are encouraged to cooperate and support one another. Teachers promote respect, participation, and collaboration so that every pupil feels accepted and valued.His teacher, Elina Davidenco, says that Mihail’s integration into the class happened naturally: „Mihail is an organized, attentive, and responsible child. He does his homework conscientiously and helps his classmates when they need it. He is a positive example for the class”, she says. Such an environment helps children build confidence in their own abilities and strengthens positive relationships among classmates, essential elements for the well-being and academic success of every child.The partnership between family and schoolMihail’s mother, Irina Șerban, says that education is a priority for the family:„I did not have the opportunity to study, but I am proud of him. Every morning, he gets ready for school by himself and helps his younger sister. I want him to continue his studies and have a profession. I would like Mihail’s story to be an example for other parents and children from the Roma community who sometimes are afraid or do not believe in the importance of education”.The support of the family, together with the involvement of teachers, helps Mihail develop his autonomy and confidence in his own abilities. Inclusive education - an important step toward respecting children’s rightsUNICEF supports the development of inclusive educational environments in which every child has equal access to quality education. Together with CCF Moldova and in partnership with the Ministry of Education and Research and the Republican Centre for Psycho-Pedagogical Assistance, UNICEF is implementing activities to promote inclusive education in 27 educational institutions in nine districts of the Republic of Moldova, with the financial support of the Government of the United Kingdom, through the Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office. In these schools:parents take part in information and counselling sessions; teachers benefit from training and mentoring; educational practices are promoted that support the participation of children with disabilities and special educational needs, refugee children, and children from ethnic minorities.  These actions contribute to creating school communities where children feel safe, respected, and supported in reaching their full potential through education adapted to each child’s needs. Liliana Rotaru, President of CCF Moldova, underlines that ,,every child has the right to support, trust, and opportunities to discover their potential. When the school and the family work together and place the child at the centre, children gain confidence and can build their own path”. „Every child has the right to quality education in a safe and inclusive environment. When the school, the family, and the community work together, children receive the support they need to learn, grow, and build their future”, emphasized Galina Bulat, Education Specialist, UNICEF. Through its social and behaviour change programmes, UNICEF supports the strengthening of the partnership between school and family, so that every child is supported to participate, learn, and develop their potential in a safe and inclusive educational environment. Confidence in the futureFor Mihail, school is the place where dreams begin to take shape. ,,If I do not manage to become a football player, I want to be a police officer”, he says seriously.His journey shows that when children receive support at the right moment, they can learn, fully participate in school life, build plans for the future, and positively influence the community they belong to.Inclusion in education means that every child is seen, heard, and supported, so that they have the chance to discover their potential. 

In 2025, UNICEF equipped 95 schools with assistive technologies, with financial support from the Global Partnership for Education, the European Union, the Government of Japan, and the Government of the United States. Călin stands next to the bell, focused and eager. He knows that in just a few moments, he will press it and call the children to class. His mother, Valentina Cociu, stays quietly nearby, not only as a parent, but also as a support teacher in the same school. She knows that right after Călin signals the start of the lesson, he will come to her for a kiss on the forehead. It’s their ritual, a simple gesture filled with trust and closeness.Over time, this moment has become part of the school’s rhythm. Students and teachers know that the bell for the first two lessons belongs to Călin. For him, this role brings a sense of order and responsibility. For others, it is a lesson in empathy and acceptance.Călin is 12 years old and studies at “Alecu Russo” Theoretical High School in the village of Cojușna. He benefits from partial inclusion and a modified curriculum in core subjects. Over time, school has become not just a place of learning for him, but a space where he feels comfortable and safe.Valentina says with a smile, “I think he’s the only child who gets upset when the holidays begin. He especially enjoys the activities in the Inclusive Education Resource Center, particularly the tablet, the interactive display, and the talking pen. With their help, he is able to communicate more easily, using images to express what he wants and how he feels.”
 Even though he is sensitive to certain sounds outside of school, here they don’t bother him, on the contrary, they give him a sense of comfort. Physical education classes are among his favorites, especially when he plays basketball. Out of ten shots, nine go straight into the hoop, and his classmates, amazed, applaud him. Valentina, between two roles, with the same missionCălin was three years old and not speaking. He didn’t respond when called by his name, and this became the beginning of many questions for Valentina.“I was in denial for a while. I was looking for quick solutions—medication, vitamins—hoping for a miracle. I listened to stories that seemed similar to ours, with happy endings, where the child suddenly began to speak. I didn’t want to see the other difficulties, especially the fact that he didn’t interact easily with others.”It took time for acceptance to take shape. “As a family, we went through a transformation—like a metamorphosis from a caterpillar into a butterfly. We changed because of him. We learned to encourage him, to listen to him, and to give him the space he needs to grow. One day, Călin gave me a colorful butterfly. I saw it as a sign that we were on the right path. I framed it, and it became our symbol.”During the same period, Valentina decided to return to work after her parental leave. She had been a Romanian and French language teacher, but upon her return, she was offered the role of a support teacher, on a part-time basis.“It was something new for me. But working with students with special educational needs helped me better understand my own child and what autism means. I became more attentive to what affects Călin—sounds, light, noise. I learned to understand his emotions, to anticipate his reactions, and to manage them with patience.”Today, Călin’s progress is visible. “He speaks in fragments, using the first syllables of the words that interest him, and when the words are simple, he pronounces them clearly. To others, these may seem like small steps, but for us, they are big achievements.”Technology as a Tool for InclusionThe high school is attended by 20 children with special educational needs. The institution is among the 95 schools equipped with assistive technologies. In 2025, UNICEF, in partnership with the Ministry of Education and Research and with financial support from the Global Partnership for Education, the European Union, the Government of Japan, and the Government of the United States, invested over 17 million MDL to support these interventions in schools.Interactive displays, educational software, multisensory learning devices, and alternative communication tools have become a natural part of the educational process. They give children the opportunity to actively participate, explore, and learn at their own pace.“For typically developing children, these technologies are engaging and motivating. But for children with special educational needs, they are essential—especially for those with autism, who face challenges in speech, communication, and social interaction,” explains Valentina.“With the help of these tools, they can show us what they want, express their emotions, and develop their language. We can adapt tasks to their abilities and support them in pronouncing certain words correctly.”In her role as a support teacher, and as the mother of a child with special educational needs, Valentina says that inclusion makes a real difference.“It is very important for students with special educational needs to be alongside typically developing children. It helps them socialize, observe, and adopt behaviors from those around them. And their classmates learn to be more friendly and empathetic.”At the same time, she emphasizes that this process does not happen on its own.“It takes a team: the teacher, the parent, and the child. Just as a parent of a child with special educational needs needs time for acceptance and understanding, teachers, students, and their parents also need time to adapt.”Călin’s homeroom teacher, Ecaterina Baciu, says, “Călin has integrated very well into the class. The atmosphere has become more united and empathetic because of him. Day by day, he offers us valuable examples of what patience and friendship truly mean. He is a child who reminds us how important it is to be kind to one another.”When asked what she wishes most for Călin, Valentina answers with emotion that she hopes he will be accepted and understood in society—“that he will be surrounded by kind people, tolerant, empathetic, and friendly… just like the colleagues I work with and Călin’s classmates.”UNICEF, together with the Ministry of Education and Research, supports the implementation of the “Education 2030” Strategy and the Inclusive Education Development Programme 2024–2027, which aims for 80% of schools in the Republic of Moldova to be equipped with support tools by 2027.For children like Călin, these changes mean more than access to education—they mean the chance to be seen, understood, and accepted.