When the full-scale war began, Ukrainian activist initiatives faced a tough choice: wait for “official” aid to arrive or act immediately, responding to the crisis in real-time. This is how the VirusOFF emergency relief project, supported by ViiV Healthcare Positive Action, was launched — without lengthy applications or layers of bureaucracy, but with a clear goal: to help those who desperately needed it.
We spoke with Oksana Dobroskok — activist and coordinator of the projects of emergency and humanitarian support at VirusOFF — for whom “helping” always means focusing on individuals rather than abstract notions. Our conversation covered peer consultants, flexibility, shelters, documentation, medications, trust, and what helps people stay afloat when it feels like everything is falling apart.
Oksana, it’s been three years since 2022. Has the project’s approach changed during this time?
— When everything began in 2022, we simply acted. It was one of those moments when, as they say, “the ground was burning under our feet.” People were fleeing their homes en masse, losing connection with healthcare systems, and left without food, clothing, or medicine. We, activists from key communities, weren’t trained in humanitarian aid — VirusOFF had always been an advocacy and informational initiative. But everything changed at that moment.
A request came from our donor, ViiV Healthcare Positive Action — were we willing to support the community in an emergency? We agreed. Although we had no service delivery experience, we had a strong motivation to help those in vulnerable situations. For the first three months, we worked on the fly — buying food, paying for tickets, housing, and medications. It was possible thanks to our peer consultants who knew the people personally and could respond quickly.
Over time, the project evolved. What started as emergency aid became something more. We didn’t build an administrative apparatus — instead, we distributed resources through community members working in the regions. This reduced costs and allowed us to remain flexible. We built elements of sustainability into the project: relocation support, help to restore documents, support for young mothers, and a trans* shelter in Odesa. We started to see that humanitarian aid isn’t just about handing out food parcels — it’s a gateway. It’s a way to bring people back to life, to connect them with information, services, and healthcare.
How did you decide which regions to prioritize? What were the key factors?
— The first factor was the presence of a peer consultant. Aid needed to be as fast as possible. Where there was a consultant, there was help. Then we analyzed the movement of internally displaced people (IDPs) and where communities were cut off from assistance. For instance, at that time in Poltava, there were many IDPs from Kharkiv but almost no specialized organizations working with the LGBTIQ+ community. In Odesa, the local trans* initiative “T-South” (“T-Pivden”) was growing but lacked support.
We tried to cover different regions geographically: east (Kharkiv), center (Poltava), west (Ivano-Frankivsk), and south (Odesa). This allowed us to address a variety of needs and situations. Moreover, consultants also worked remotely, sending aid packages by mail and providing consultations.
How did the project adapt to the conditions of war? What changed in the structure of assistance?
— The priorities shifted with each stage of the war, and we’re grateful the donor-supported this flexibility. Initially, the focus was on basic needs: food, clothes, tickets, shelter. Then, we added LED lamps, emergency communication tools, and space heaters during the blackouts. As people’s physical and mental health worsened, the need for medical expense reimbursement grew — for medication, diagnostics, and flexible support for unforeseen emergencies.
In 2025, we placed a special focus on pregnant and postpartum women living with HIV — infant formula, diapers, and lactation suppression supplies. A critical issue is documentation. Losing documents means losing access to treatment, services, and employment.
Tell us a bit about the people you work with. Who brings this project to life?
— Our team is the community. These are people who don’t work “for,” they work with. Vasya Malykov (Kharkiv) is a powerful activist working with the LGBTIQ+ community, deeply involved in the city’s life despite constant shelling. Yanina Stemkovska (Poltava) is a seasoned professional with over 20 years of experience supporting people who use drugs. Yulia Knyazyuk (Ivano-Frankivsk) is a versatile consultant working with people living with HIV, sex workers, LGBTIQ+ individuals, and IDPs. Yulia Familieva (Odesa) is a trans* activist who launched the trans* shelter initiative and later officially registered the organization “T-South” (“T-Pivden”). These are people from within the communities. They understand the pain and needs of those they serve.
How do you help people who have “fallen out” of HIV/TB care or are from other key populations?
— Our peer consultants acted as social navigators. They referred people to relevant medical facilities, helped restore documents, and guided them toward care. Sometimes they literally accompanied people to appointments. Because they are trusted by the community, they were able to re-establish contact even with those who had been out of the system for years.
How does humanitarian aid influence people’s motivation to seek other kinds of support?
— A person comes for food. They meet a consultant — not just a distributor, but someone like them. Someone who speaks their language, who understands what it means to live with HIV, to use drugs, to be LGBTIQ+, to be on the run. That’s when trust is built. The person receives aid but also learns about other support options — medical, psychological, and social. For many, this moment of contact was the start of a new life. They realized they weren’t alone.
What unique needs have trans people had, and how has the project responded?*
— Trans* people face numerous barriers — from lack of documents to difficulty accessing hormone therapy. In Odesa, the trans* initiative “T-South” (“T-Pivden”) opened a shelter. At one point, they lost funding and were about to shut down. We made a quick decision to temporarily redirect relocation funds to cover rent. This saved not just the shelter, but the community — giving them a safe space to be.
What are the current urgent needs among key populations?
— Physical and mental health are deteriorating. There are many comorbidities: heart and kidney issues, and psychosomatic disorders. People are exhausted — no jobs, no money, no support. Pregnant and postpartum women with HIV face enormous pressure. People who use drugs often lack documents, which bars them from everything.
What’s been the hardest part over the years?
— The relocations, loss of contact, blackouts, burnout, exhaustion, unpredictability. It’s incredibly difficult to keep the team going when everyone is in crisis. But we managed to secure modest but stable compensation for our consultants — supporting those who support others was essential.
Have there been crises where you had to make urgent changes?
— Yes. The trans* shelter in Odesa, for example. We quickly used our reserve budget to keep it running. That saved more than a space — it saved a community. There were other cases too, where we urgently covered rent, tickets, or food.
What do you consider the most important results?
— The most important thing is that people didn’t slip into isolation. We kept the connections alive. Some returned to treatment. Others found support or started anew. We didn’t lose people — that’s what matters most.
Do you think this model could be scaled up?
— The model has proven its sustainability. It can be scaled — as long as people are willing to work with trust. No bureaucracy, no rigid structures. The key is community connection and a willingness to act.
What would make the project even stronger?
— We need flexible support — not just for indicators, but for real needs. More funding for consultants, better technical resources, and mobile kits. But above all — recognition that “just food” is also healthcare. It’s a service. It’s the entry point.
What message would you like to share with donors and international partners?
— Please don’t underestimate humanitarian aid. It’s not secondary — it’s the foundation. If a person is hungry, they won’t seek treatment. If they’re not safe, they won’t come for testing. When you provide aid, you give hope. And when you give hope — you save lives. That’s the baseline. Without it, nothing else works.