Retired in Ukraine: One Cheese, Two Chickens and a Dozen Eggs

Armed Conflicts, Europe, Headlines, Humanitarian Emergencies

Armed Conflicts

UZHGOROD, Ukraine, Aug 25 2026 (IPS) – Marina says she does not particularly like her flowers, but that, “for some reason,” people buy them.

In the centre of Uzhgorod, 800 kilometres southwest of Kyiv, this 75-year-old Ukrainian woman sells chrysanthemums, dahlias and gladioli on the pavement of central Voloshyna Street, all grown in the small garden at her home.

There is barely half an hour left before the market closes at 4 p.m., and she still has one cheese, two chickens and a dozen eggs left to sell. The total will come to around $15. It is not much, but it is equivalent to a fifth of her monthly pension. It is all she has left after more than 30 years working as a postwoman

“People take them for birthdays, weddings, for the cemetery… I can make up to 500 hryvnias, about $11 on a good day,” the elderly woman tells IPS on a morning when the mercury is nearing 40 degrees Celsius in western Ukraine.

She never thought she would have to endure the elements to make a living, least of all at her age.

Marina is one of hundreds of thousands of elderly women across the country forced to spend their days on the streets to survive. Data from the Pension Fund of Ukraine indicate that most pensioners receive between $60 and $100 a month.

The figures simply do not add up in a country where a primary school teacher’s salary is less than $180, while a kilo of rice, a litre of milk or a litre of petrol costs almost $2.

The conflict in Ukraine has only made things worse. There have been far too many days spent on the streets since Russia launched its full-scale invasion of the country on February 24, 2022.

Attacks on key civilian infrastructure are constant, while the economic crisis is overwhelming. To make matters worse, the influx of internally displaced people —3.6 million according to UNHCR—, has driven up housing prices in the west of the country. Renting a room in Uzhgorod costs an average of between $220 and $380.

Marina says her daughter helps her as much as she can, “especially in winter, when the house needs heating and I have no flowers to sell.” Is there any hope that the war will end and the situation will improve for everyone? The Ukrainian woman is clear: “Things will only get worse.”

It has been a war of attrition fought from trenches in the east and south, with Russia occupying 20 per cent of the territory and Ukraine resisting with Western support. Moscow demands territory, while Kyiv demands a full withdrawal.

The conflict is frozen, with no active peace negotiations in 2026, but the bombardment continues unabated. The humanitarian catastrophe is measured in tens of thousands of deaths and more than six million refugees.

According to an internal report by the European Commission, Ukraine will spend more than 134 billion euros on military expenditure this year, more than twice the amount provided for in the state budget. That represents 60 per cent of government spending.

High energy costs, risky logistics and fuel are the main reasons prices are similar to those in the European Union. Reconstruction is estimated at $500 billion, but for now there are only isolated projects by the EU and USAID.

Although pensions in Ukraine were already inadequate compared with the cost of living before the war, the conflict’s impact on household finances has pushed older people to the brink. Many survive thanks solely to support from relatives or charitable organisations.

Hidden away

As a border city —20 kilometres from the Hungarian border and just five from the Slovak border—, Uzhgorod has been one of Ukraine’s humanitarian “bridge cities” since 2022: hundreds of thousands of internally displaced people arrive here, and aid entering through the border passes through the city, which explains the significant presence of NGOs.

At the Caritas headquarters in the city, volunteers told IPS that they help older people with food parcels, diapers and medicines “whenever there is money,” but that the resources available to them are becoming increasingly limited.

Red Cross officials in the city told IPS that they work along the same lines, “as well as offering workshops, outings and entertainment programs.”

But it is enough to pay a visit to Uzhgorod’s Central Market to see that leisure is not something everyone can afford. At first glance, there is nothing to distinguish it from any other market in a European capital: the stalls overflow with fruit, vegetables and other staples such as eggs and meat, and there seems to be no shortage of customers.

It is the subtler details that make the difference.

“The locals still come by to say hello, but they buy much less because they cannot afford it. Meanwhile, people displaced from Kyiv and other major urban centres prefer the supermarket, even though our products are much more natural and cheaper,” laments Oksana, 76.

It is not only a pension under $100 that keeps her at her stall: three of her children remain hidden in their village to avoid forced mobilisation. They help out in the vegetable garden as best they can, but there are too many people in the house.

According to the Defence Ministry, around two million Ukrainians are living in hiding from military recruiters. Many spend months without leaving their homes or villages for fear of ending up on the front, often without any prior military training.

Oksana explodes: “Aren’t the police and the army supposed to protect us? Why do they want to take my sons to a slaughterhouse when they do not even know how to hold a weapon?”

An endless war

Right next to her, Anya, 67, says she has been luckier: three of her four children are outside the country, while another is with her and exempt from military service. There is barely half an hour left before the market closes at 4 p.m., and she still has one cheese, two chickens and a dozen eggs left to sell.

The total will come to around $15. It is not much, but it is equivalent to a fifth of her monthly pension. It is all she has left after more than 30 years working as a postwoman.

In a city that was once a tourist destination, souvenir shops, travel agencies and car rental offices are now little more than boarded-up premises or empty storefronts. Only their outdated websites bear witness to a life before the war.

It is hard to put the new reality out of mind. A walk along the riverside promenade beneath the linden trees is enough to bring you face to face with a military drone displayed on a table. It is the attraction beside a collection box for donations to the war effort.

Elizabeth has been selling on the street since long before the conflict broke out. At 74, she says she copes better with the rain than with this summer’s extreme heat. She comes every day from Velyki Lazi, a village 15 kilometres southeast of Uzhgorod.

She tells IPS that her husband helps her load bags of apples, pickles and eggs onto the bus, and then she manages on foot from the station. Thirty years as an accountant for a company in the Soviet Union, followed by another 30 years working in the fields, have left her with a pension worth about $80 at the current exchange rate.

Today she cannot see either the end of the war or the day when she will be able to leave her stall. She prefers not to think too much about it. “I will stay out here as long as my strength holds.”

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