How can communities help make these medical evaluations more accessible and efficient? Rubryka spoke with Mariia Kravchenko, the founder of the Ukrainian charity foundation Dostup, who, together with a team of volunteers, is helping soldiers at one of Kyiv's medical facilities.
What's the problem?
The issue of unbearable conditions at military medical commissions in Ukraine gained national attention in early 2023 when private first class (now officer) Myroslav Otkovych shared a post on social media. He described what he saw at a Lviv medical facility: wounded soldiers with limb amputations standing in lines that stretched for hours. Hundreds of people queued for days, some waiting weeks to complete the medical commission.
The problem went far beyond that: the medical center lacked basic infrastructure. The spaces were poorly lit and had no accessible restrooms, seating areas, or drinking water.
Otkovych's post struck a nerve and showed the issue was nationwide. Thousands of people commented on his post that the same inhumane conditions existed in Poltava, Zaporizhzhia, Kyiv, and beyond.
Dostup founder Mariia Kravchenko, who works closely with the military, heard similar stories from wounded soldiers daily. In 2023, she recalls, soldiers would arrive at medical centers before dawn — at 5 or 6 a.m. — just to claim a place in line and spend hours waiting for a ticket.
A restroom in one of the hospitals in Lviv, where soldiers undergo the medical commission, 2023. Photo: Facebook / Myroslav Otkovych
What has changed since then? The Ukrainian nonprofit Pryncyp, which works to protect the rights of wounded service members and veterans, told Rubryka that the government took some steps to reduce waiting times and lines to military medical commissions. It expanded the network of centers offering medical evaluations for the military and introduced electronic queues in military clinics. Yet, soldiers still need to go in person to the hospital's registration desk or to the chief medical officer of their military base to obtain referrals for the commission.
Earlier this year, Myroslav Otkovych shared that thousands of people reposted his viral post over two years. Some still discuss the problem in the comment section.
"At first, I thought people just didn't check the date," he wrote. "But reading the comments, I realized the truth — it's been two years, and the problem hasn't gone away."
As part of a government working group, Pryncyp and other non-profits helped draft recommendations to improve military medical commissions and set better standards for medical facilities, such as organized lines, accessible restrooms, seating areas, information, and clear signage.
In August 2023, the Ukrainian Human Rights Commissioner's Office inspected clinics where soldiers undergo medical commissions, using methods and questionnaires Pryncyp developed for observers. Inspectors documented the results in a closed report about medical commission timelines, infrastructure, accessibility, etc.
A line of service members at an outpatient clinic in Lviv. Photo: radiosvoboda.org
Despite having solid data, the Ukrainian government still hasn't set a permanent monitoring system to ensure changes are made. What's more, the 2023 report may no longer be applicable today.
Mariia Kravchenko stresses that substandard conditions remain a widespread, systemic issue nationwide. She shares:
"In one city, soldiers text me all the time: 'Mariia, the elevator is broken again, and the commission is on the seventh floor. How am I supposed to climb seven floors with above-the-knee amputation?'"
What's the solution?
The problem can only be solved through systemic, long-term government action. In November 2024, Ukraine's Ministry of Defense presented a reform plan to overhaul the military medical commission system, which is set to be completed by November 2025.
While the government was just starting the reform, volunteers supported wounded soldiers on the ground. Already in 2023, the military asked to allow volunteers into hospitals. In some places, those requests were granted — grassroots initiatives began to fill the gaps.
According to Mariia Kravchenko, volunteer projects supporting soldiers at military hospitals first took root in Lviv and later spread to Kyiv, Dnipro, Kharkiv, and Poltava. In Kyiv, what began as a small volunteer group grew into Dostup, a full-fledged charity foundation that continues to operate today.
It all began with a group chat — a simple tool to coordinate volunteers. A small group of caring people picked one hospital that needed help the most. Their decision was based on several factors:
- The facility was mentioned the most in online complaints.
- It hosted one of Kyiv's largest medical commissions.
- Most patients were wounded service members, many recovering from amputations.
The volunteers approached the hospital's management, offered help, and asked what they could do. This dialogue became one of the cornerstones of the initiative's success.
At first, they focused on the most basic needs — providing drinking water and installing benches so soldiers wouldn't have to stand for hours in the hallways. As time passed, the help grew: volunteers equipped an accessible restroom, repaired the coatroom, and set up a small rest area.
By March 2023, volunteers began working daily shifts at the hospital, a practice that continues today. They offer hot drinks and snacks, help with document copies, and provide human care and attention to those who often feel invisible.
Volunteers delivered the first bottles of water to a medical facility in Kyiv. Photo courtesy of Mariia Kravchenko
How does it work?
Organizing volunteers
Today, Dostup runs entirely on volunteer power. Everyone, from coordinators to those on shifts, works for free. The foundation's founder, Mariia Kravchenko, acts as director and oversees all processes. One of the co-founders, Oleksandra, conducts weekly resource audits, visits the hospital, checks supplies, and makes shopping lists. Another co-founder, Dasha, handles procurement, logistics, and communication with suppliers.
Volunteers regularly purchase:
- Office supplies: paper, folders, plastic sleeves
- Food and drinks: tea, coffee, cream, sugar, snacks
- Hygiene products: soap, trash bags, towels, toilet paper, disposable cups, and stirrers
Volunteers also handle deliveries and unloading without outside contractors. Two people are responsible for scheduling shifts, ensuring there's always someone on duty to help soldiers. Another volunteer keeps the copy machines running.
Everyone else takes turns working shifts, which happen three times a day, every day. On average, 9–10 volunteers are at the hospital daily. In 2024 alone, 129 people volunteered with Dostup.
Goods Dostup purchased delivered to a medical facility. Photos courtesy of Mariia Kravchenko
Everything is coordinated through a messenger group chat. Volunteers track every tea bag, coffee stick, snack bar, and printed or copied page. At the end of each shift, they report how many supplies were used and what remains.
Thanks to this meticulous system, Dostup can confidently say that in 2024 alone, they distributed over 15,000 tea bags, 97,000 snack bars, and nearly 69,000 coffee sticks.
"All volunteers see these numbers. Anyone can check what's left and what's running out," says Kravchenko. "The people who work with us know that every donation goes exactly where it's needed — nothing gets lost along the way. They can see everything in our chat."
New volunteers join through recommendations from others or by filling out a Google form shared on social media.
Renovation projects
Besides daily volunteer shifts, Dostup is making the medical facility where they work more accessible and comfortable for wounded soldiers. The most ambitious project so far has been the renovation of the bathroom and cloakroom, which cost UAH 2.2 million (over $53,000). The repairs couldn't wait — before that, soldiers on crutches, in wheelchairs, or with other injuries couldn't meet their basic needs. Instead of regular toilets, the restroom had squat toilets; to reach them, patients had to climb stairs.
To undertake the project, the volunteers registered a foundation, a necessary step to sign contracts and manage funds. The contractor was Oihen Fuks, but according to the foundation's founder, the renovation was managed by two brothers — one of whom is a veteran. Volunteers trusted him because he understood the context and did the work as if it were for himself.
Before and after the restroom renovation. Photos courtesy of Mariia Kravchenko
Before and after the restroom renovation. Photos courtesy of Mariia Kravchenko
The project didn't go without criticism. Some people claimed they could have done the renovation for less money, while others accused the volunteers of making the restroom too "fancy." The Dostup founder stands by the foundation's decisions, arguing activists tried to spend as little as possible while maintaining high quality — especially on plumbing, which needs to withstand constant use. As for the design, she insists it only seems luxurious because it contrasts with the outdated surroundings of the hospital. The interior is simple, designed "for people, with care," and fully complies with building regulations.
"We always tried to show that what we're doing isn't something extraordinary. We're simply giving people who spend a lot of time here normal, human conditions," says Kravchenko.
The money for the project came from different sources. Volunteers reached out to businesses through cold and warm contacts. Sometimes it worked — for example, the tiles for the restroom and cloakroom were donated. Often, companies refused. Some were wary of supporting a young foundation, while others didn't want to fund a toilet. It's not drones or cars, they said.
"We always explained: Okay, you can donate to drones today, but tomorrow, the soldier using the drone you donate for might get injured, come to our hospital, and not even be able to go to the toilet," Kravchenko says.
The community also played a huge part. The foundation launched the Ambassadors of Dostup initiative, where anyone could start their own small fundraisers. All proceeds went toward the renovation.
Renovated cloakroom. Photo courtesy of Mariia Kravchenko
The same approach — through business contacts and grassroots support — helped Dostup raise over UAH 659,000 (about $16,000) to set up a new rest area for patients.
Where to get money
Dostup needs around UAH 200,000 (about $5,000) per month to sustain itself. According to Mariia Kravchenko, 90–95% of that comes from private donations, with the rest covered by businesses. Even though the contribution from companies is small, the foundation appreciates it as much as any. Thanks to one supplier, Dostup buys energy bars at half price, and another business helps furnish the rest area space.
"We never asked one business for a million. We asked for 50,000, 100,000, 20,000, or even 10,000 or 5,000 — whatever amount was comfortable for them. We don't need one company to cover all expenses. It's about alliance — we're all working together for the people who deserve it," says Kravchenko.
Finding businesses willing to support the foundation isn't easy. Dostup doesn't partner with just anyone — companies must pass a selection process. One rule is non-negotiable: the foundation won't work with suppliers that still operate in Russia or Belarus.
Copy station inside the medical facility where Dostup works. Photo: Instagram/dostup.foundation
Challenges
Dostup founder Mariia Kravchenko sums up the challenges the organization still faces:
- Lack of funding and resources for institutional support. The foundation runs entirely on volunteers, which limits its growth. No one can consistently manage social media, share the organization's work, or search for grant funding.
- Volunteer burnout. Without the capacity to pay its volunteers, everyone juggles their work at Dostup with full-time jobs — sometimes several. Recruiting new volunteers is getting more complex.
- Lack of attention from the government. While officials know Dostup and its work and acknowledge the problems the organization fights to improve, Mariia says that's not enough. Dostup should communicate directly with decision-makers who influence the conditions of military medical commissions. The organization sees what soldiers go through from the inside and could become a real partner in improving the system.
Does it really work?
In just two years, Dostup has:
- Built an inclusive restroom from scratch;
- Renovated the cloakroom;
- Refurbished the rest area;
- Set up daily volunteer shifts to assist soldiers at the medical facility;
- Twice been included in long and short lists of the Responsibility Award, which honors civil society organizations and their stories of responsible partnership.
What's next?
Dostup dreams of doing even more:
- Installing clear navigation signs around the medical facility to help visitors find their way;
- Building accessible stairs to the second floor;
- Expanding its work to other cities.
The foundation already has a small branch in Poltava, where Dostup helps supply water and cups to local volunteers supporting the hospital. There are no shifts there yet. Founder Mariia Kravchenko dreams of opening branches in Lviv and beyond.
How to support Dostup:
- Donate to help cover monthly supply purchases;
- Sign up for volunteer shifts at the hospital by filling out an application form;
- Help run Dostup's social media or look for funding;
- If you're a business, donate printer paper. You can reach Dostup through Instagram.
Dostup is ready to help activists in other cities start a similar initiative. The foundation will set up an online meeting and share everything it has learned.
Mariia Kravchenko gives a fair warning — you'll need persistence and patience for long negotiations with hospital management. Above all, she says, you must be ready to treat every soldier you meet with dignity and respect — not pity.
Improving Media Resilience in Ukraine Project. Implemented by Fondation Hirondelle (Switzerland) and IRMI, Institute for Regional Media and Information (Ukraine). Funded by Swiss Solidarity.
