Mikkel Hørlyck

The orphanage in the city of Orhei in Moldova is the residence of some 200 boys and men, who are physically or mentally disabled. Moldova is the poorest country in Europe, and poverty is the main reason that many parents are forced to surrender their kids to orphanages. Andrei, 10, looks up without seeing. He was born blind. At the orphanage the most common diagnoses are autism, Down’s syndrome and epilepsy. Most of the inhabitants at the orphanage were born with their disabilities and have grown up in the institution. The oldest is 40 years old, the youngest a newborn child. 

In order to protect the boys, institutional policy requires their names to remain anonymous.

Petru, 23, spends most of his day with his eyes shut, while blocking his ears with his hands. Often he yells loudly and hits himself. Petru is out getting fresh air during one of the daily trips around the premises. Suddenly, he stands up, opens his eyes and looks up into the sky.

In Group 3 there is commotion. They are walking up the stairs to the house while attempting to steal each other’s hats. The boys at the orphanage are separated into 18 groups, consisting of 8 to 14 boys and men. One or two female social workers are associated with each of the groups. ‘Mama’, the boys in Group 3 call their favorite social worker.

There is a show in the theater room. The boys have been helped into the room, where they have been put in long, straight lines. Due to the financial costs, entertainment events are only arranged a couple of times a year. Today’s spectacle, hired by the orphanage, is a circus clown.

The social workers wake the boys up from their naps in order to dress them before dinner. They work 12-hour shifts. The lack of time and number of boys in every group doesn’t give them enough time and energy to provide sufficient care and pay enough attention to the boys.

In Moldova a dire consequence of poverty is that many parents don’t have neither the time nor the money to support their kids. The state lacks the funds and the will to aid those who are mentally and physically challenged.

Once a week the boys are taken to their weekly haircut. Adrian, 17, and the other boys from Group 17 are known at the orphanage for having the toughest disabilities. It hurts, when the hairdresser tries to cut Adrian’s hair.

Moldova, Europe’s poorest country, has 3,5 million inhabitants and is located on the edge of the Black Sea between Ukraine and Romania.

Vadim can’t find peace while being surrounded by bricks and painting gear. His head swings from side to side. Nothing helps, until he becomes sufficiently exhausted.

After lunch it’s time for the boys to take their daily nap. They are assisted to the toilet, out of their clothes and into bed. The heavy noise from the dining hall is replaced by a satisfied calmness that lingers over the entire institution. Still some of the boys can’t fall asleep.

Most of the boys never receive visitors. Marius, 12, is lucky. His parents have come to visit this Friday. They have brought homemade strawberry mash and sit down on a bench below a tree. Marius’ dad, Grigore, fetches his cane and takes Marius, who suffers from autism, by the hand. Together they dance, until Marius falls into his father’s arms. Grigore suffers from multiple sclerosis; therefore Marius’ mother is the only one providing for the family and their three children. That is why the parents had to put Marius in the orphanage six years ago.

Between the daily routine of meals, naps and walks, the boys stay in the common room assigned to each individual group. Some sit, others stand.

It is not a part of everyday life in Moldova to see disabled children. A small group of boys are sometimes driven to the capital, Chisinau, where they perform at a concert for children with disabilities together.

“Trece, Treaca, da?”. The boy with the Joker’s smile has a very limited vocabulary consisting of the same three words. This means that he is hungry. Having various disabilities is associated with social stigmatization and severe exclusion, which makes the parents want to put their children in an orphanage.

Hand in hand, the boys support each other through the winter-cold corridors towards the dining room. The boys’ bodies are wiggling. More of them stumble into the doorframe on their way to their regular seats. Food is served four times a day, and every time the metal cups and the dishes are scrapped until they are empty.

The situation might change for the social workers. The orphanage must cut back on expenses this year, and therefore the amount of social workers assigned to each group will be lowered.

Grigore, a father to one of the boys, says: “The government is not spending money on Moldova’s children and no support is given to the parents.”

Today the boys in Group 3 are filled with joy. ‘Mama’ is back.

Many of the boys do not know their own story. Victor, another boy who’s grown up at the orphanage, has siblings outside the institution. But after Victor’s birth, his siblings discovered that their mother had given birth to a disabled boy. The siblings killed Victor’s mother, a social worker says.

The boys are playing outside either alone or together in groups. They entertain themselves, when the social workers are too busy elsewhere.

Max needs help to do almost all activities during the day. He is wearing a straitjacket, which makes it easier for the social workers to feed him during dinner.

A group is out on their daily walk around the institution. While some don’t have the ability to walk by themselves, they need to assist one another, and the same applies when they need to walk up the stairs. The Moldavian government wants to shut down the country’s orphanages and place the boys in foster care. By doing so they hope to place the boys in families who can teach them how to lead an everyday life and learn daily routines such as brushing their teeth before going to sleep. But this government policy is only slowly being implemented due to lack of initiative and funding.