“They gave us the treatment we needed, medicines we could hardly have afforded.”

The bed is made. Clothes and toys are neatly packed, and Vladimir and his mother are waiting for the discharge papers. Only the little blue teddy bear remains beside Vova - as his family lovingly calls him. At just one year and four months old, the small patient spends his final minutes exploring the hospital room that has been his second home for the past few days. The green-painted corridors and treatment rooms have become familiar sights. 

The war in Ukraine turned them into strangers in their own country

Marina, 37, spent 13 years working abroad as a long-distance driver - first transporting passengers by minibus, then cargo by truck. “Right before the war, we had just returned to Ukraine, to Vinnytsia. We bought our own house. But we didn’t get to live there for even half a year.” 

The war changed everything. “Together with my older son, Iulian, I arrived in the Republic of Moldova on March 20, 2022. My husband and I had already divorced before the war,” Marina recalls. 

“We didn’t manage to cross the border the first time. I paid a taxi driver 250 dollars - he tricked us. The second time, I left driving a minibus myself. At the Otaci–Mohyliv-Podilskyi border crossing, the Moldovan customs officer noticed my fuel tank was almost empty and asked where we were heading. I told him we wanted to reach Chișinău but had no money left to refuel. He handed me a gas station card so I could buy fuel. I’ve tried many times to find him and thank, but I never met him again,” Marina says, her voice breaking. 

Once in the capital, they spent their first days at the Refugee Centre in the Telecentru district. To keep herself busy, Marina began volunteering: “When you don’t know where you belong, you go find work. I sorted potatoes and carrots, handed out packages with food, hygiene items, and clothes to other refugees. It helps you stop thinking about war and rockets.” 

A childhood full of challenges

Today, Marina is a mother of two boys: ten-year-old Iulian, a student at Taras Shevchenko Gymnasium No. 8 in Chișinău, and baby Vladimir, born at the Mother and Child Institute. 

“At birth, Vova had a cyst and a cranial deformity. Later, at one year old, we discovered he had severe anemia. For the past six months, he’s been under treatment,” Marina says. 

Many refugee women like her have had to face not only the trauma of war but also the daily struggle of raising children alone. Without a partner, job security, or stable income, every day becomes a challenge. In such circumstances, access to free medical services is not only a right - it’s a form of social protection that allows them to endure and raise their children with dignity. 

Support that makes a difference 

Vova is sometimes more restless than other children, but that doesn’t stop his curiosity about the world. One afternoon on the playground, he fell from a slide. Doctors at the ”Valentin Ignatenco” Municipal Children’s Hospital decided to admit him immediately to the Neurosurgery and Trauma Unit. 

“Everyone treated us with so much kindness. I thought that, because we’re refugees, people might look down on us. But it wasn’t like that at all. The medical staff always showed compassion. At the canteen, if food was left, they would give it to me because I’m breastfeeding. No one visited us - we don’t really have friends or relatives here,” Marina shares. 

UNICEF covers medical services for refugee children in Moldova’s public institutions with financial support from the Governments of the Republic of Korea, Switzerland (through SDC), the United Kingdom (through FCDO), Japan, Norway, Sweden, and the United States (through BPRM). Together with CNAM and public healthcare facilities, this support ensures that children like Vladimir receive timely, essential care - no matter their status. 

For Marina, this support means far more than a receipt or a hospital bill. It means a real chance at health for her child - and the peace of mind of a mother who, after a long journey, feels that someone cares again for her and her children. 

Behind every hospital visit lies a heavy emotional burden: memories of war, the loss of home, the uncertainty of tomorrow. For refugee children, hospitals often become the first places where they encounter not only medical care but also compassion and empathy from adults outside their family. This experience helps rebuild a sense of safety - vital for their emotional development. 

“They gave us the treatment we needed, including expensive medicines we could hardly have afforded. I’m now on childcare leave and receive 1,000 lei per month in state support for Vova. At birth, we also received a one-time allowance of 20,000 lei,” Marina explains. 

Since the war began, Moldova has become one of the main host countries for refugee mothers and children. Its health system, already operating under pressure with limited resources, had to adapt quickly to an influx of vulnerable patients. In this context, UNICEF’s support has not only covered medical costs but also strengthened the capacity of public hospitals to respond to emergencies. 

Since the onset of the war, more than 10,000 refugee children in Moldova have benefited from free medical services in public institutions, thanks to UNICEF and its international partners. In total, nearly USD 3 million has been allocated to ensure that every refugee child has access to quality healthcare. 

Moldova – the country that offered a second chance

When asked about Moldova, Marina says simply, “Moldova is our second home. People are kind and friendly. They always step in to help.” 

Stories like Marina’s show that support comes not only from institutions but also from communities. Moldova - a small country with limited resources - has compensated through solidarity, generosity, and the kindness of ordinary citizens. 

“When I gave birth to Vova, we stayed in the hospital for 16 days. At first, it didn’t seem serious, but then I ran out of diapers and had no one to bring me more. I wrote a post on Facebook, in a group for mothers in Chișinău. Women from all over the city brought diapers, wipes, and other things for me and Vova. Complete strangers helped me as if I were family.” 

Access to treatment, tests, and consultations for refugee children has effects that reach far beyond the present. Early medical care prevents complications, reduces future costs, and offers a real chance for a healthy childhood. These investments also lay the groundwork for children’s integration in schools and communities, reducing the risk of social exclusion.  

Despite all challenges, Vova is growing and thriving, and Marina is eager to work again. “I hope he can start kindergarten soon. I need to work - you can’t survive here without support.” 

Marina’s story is not unique - it reflects the courage and resilience of thousands of refugee families. Despite their losses, they find the strength to volunteer, contribute to their new communities, and seek a better future for their children. 

As they leave the hospital room, Vova clutches his blue-bellied teddy bear and waves goodbye. Behind him are the green corridors, the sound of footsteps, and the white door. Ahead lie a kindergarten, a job, and a home - where warmth awaits once again.