In hard times, community is everything

When she was appointed as head of the village council in Bulavynske, some 48 kilometres north-east of Donetsk, Alla Grigoryevna Kopulova was given a key, a stamp and a warm invite “to get to work.” It was 1984; she was 38 and by then had spent all her working life at the local coalmine, the area’s main employer and economic lifeline. As part of the staff committee at the mine, Alla had learnt that community is everything – she then focused on strengthening relations among the residents so that they could support each other in difficult times.

“It was intense, I was never at home, I lived at the office,” tells Alla, who was born in the village of 3,000, 73 years ago.

Those difficult times eventually came and throughout the 1990s, residents came together to resolve issues that could not be addressed to the local authorities. It was tough. The Soviet Union’s meltdown hit the economy hard: salaries, including those of miners collapsed by up to 80 percent and people struggled to make a living. At 55, she bought a cow, learnt to milk it and sold the milk to make ends meet.

“That cow saved my life,” she recalls.

Years passed – her twin daughters grew up and created their own families, she shares while proudly showing a portrait of herself painted by her grandson.

In 2001, Alla met a representative of the League of Business Women, a Yenakiive-based organization, and Alla decided to found the local chapter. The league initiated the renovation of the old library, which turned into a church and is today the main assembly place for the villagers. Soon afterwards, she set up the Centre for Initiatives, a community-based organization run by volunteers.

Women are a powerful force when working together, notes Alla who has also founded other groups, bringing together disabled former miners and veterans who served in WWII.

When the conflict started, the centre’s activities were put on hold. Alla, however, never stopped advocating for her community. When the village came under fire between July 2014 and 2016, she helped the local authorities to provide safe places in the village where people could find shelter.

“I, alone, am a small person, and I cannot change politics. But I can do something [for my community].”

In 2016, the centre could finally resume its meetings and it started by collecting clothes for those in the village who were most affected by the conflict – some had lost everything.

Alla believes that support knows no age boundary, so when a disabled villager needed help to do some heavy gardening, the centre mobilized young people from the local school to help him. At the heart of the centre’s work is communal self-help; residents help one another, digging vegetable patches, doing small repairs, grocery shopping, doing the laundry or anything that involves a helping hand from friends and neighbours.

Now members meet every week and discuss everything from reading books to planning how to help their neighbours – politics, however, stays at the door.

When asked about the conflict and the future, the smile usually on Alla’s face fades. She pauses momentarily, and filled with both sorrow and hope, she says “[one day] the conflict will be resolved, like the sun burns away the fog.”

In the meantime, she focuses on the centre, believing that it creates a contagious positive energy.

“If people work together [as a community] they can make change happen.”