Moldova's First Food Business Incubator

It’s taken me longer than I’d like to send this update, and I’m sorry for the silence. “Landing” well after big highs is an art — and I’m still very much in primary school. I meant to send something months ago. But there was always another logistics issue to resolve, another event to organize, another form to fill, another pot to wash — anything to avoid facing the bitter reality head-on. Still, if you’re reading this now: thank you for your patience. You haven’t been far from our minds.

It’s been almost 3 years and 3 months since that first night we heard the news of fighter jets over our neighbors in Ukraine. Somehow, the calendar kept moving — and so did we.

Since then, we’ve packed and distributed millions of pounds of food to those in need. And while donor support has dwindled — understandably, most people and organizations can’t sprint for three years — some of you are still here, still steady, still showing up. That kind of loyalty doesn’t just keep the lights on. It reminds us why we do this in the first place.

Thanks to your help, we’re still here. Still feeding people. But we’ve had to make some very difficult choices — not in what we give, but in how many people receive it, and how often. Saying “not this time” to many people you’ve known to rely on you is one of the heavier parts of the job.

That said, we’re not just trying to stretch what we have — we’re trying to grow it.
Literally.

This winter, something new took root: vertical salad gardens. With indoor greenhouse equipment designed by Just Vertical and generously donated by our Canadian friends at GlobalMedic, we’ve turned once-overflowing storage rooms into farms of leafy greens. It’s not enough for thousands families a week — as we’d grown used to over the past three years — but it brings fresh, living vitamins to those who need them most, even in the dead of winter. And when we add other vegetables to the family boxes, it becomes more than food — it’s a portion of health and hope for those still reeling from the geopolitical earthquake.

Meanwhile, we’ve been further shifting focus from “giving fish” to “helping to fish.” Because as much as people need food, they also need independent futures.

So we’ve doubled down on vocational training — helping Ukrainian refugees in Moldova pick up tools, pick up knives, and pick up confidence. Our culinary courses are still going strong (you should see the desserts these folks are making). And we’ve launched intro-to-construction workshops, especially for women, that are half hands-on learning, half soft rebellion against the idea that rebuilding belongs only to men or “professionals.”

Spoiler: it doesn’t.

We’re also working with small Ukrainian food entrepreneurs who are turning war-displaced kitchens into micro-businesses. Some of them are selling at markets now. Others are still experimenting with packaging and pepper ratios. But all of them are being seen. Valued. Encouraged. That matters.

Because you’ve supported us along the way, you’ve made it possible for someone to feed their child, to learn a trade, to try something new — to not be forgotten.

No number can fully explain that. But if we had to give one today, it wouldn’t be in pounds or liters or tons.

It’d be this: 3 years and 3 months. Of holding on. Of adapting. Of refusing to give up.

Thanks for walking this stretch with us.

With gratitude,

Links:

• Week After Week: How You Helped Moldova and Ukraine Hold On