Gay, HIV-positive and a refugee: A new start in Germany

I worked as a project manager for two major human rights organisations. One was Alliance.Global, which, amongst other things, provides legal assistance to the LGBTIQ community, and the other was an HIV prevention project. Until the Russian invasion, I had been living what I considered to be the best possible life as a gay man. I hadn’t originally planned to join the army, but then everything turned out quite differently. I volunteered at the age of 27 and spent two and a half years working at various levels as a paramedic and in medical support.

The figure is likely to be significantly higher; unfortunately, it is difficult to determine exact numbers, as many of them were already receiving antiretroviral therapy (ART) or PrEP whilst in Ukraine. And for some, it is easier to stay in touch with their doctors in Ukraine online and receive ART by post than to familiarise themselves with the German system and obtain the necessary medication here. These people living with HIV therefore do not appear in the German statistics.

At least, that is the reputation it has, which is why many newcomers to the country are put off from getting to grips with it and giving it a go.
If you’re used to the Ukrainian healthcare system, however, there are some significant differences. When it comes to HIV services in particular, the system is very modern and easily accessible. You effectively don’t have to sort anything out yourself. You can actually do everything online and are reminded of appointments, have a taxi booked for you if needed, or have swab kits automatically sent to your home. For people who are used to this all-round service, this takes some getting used to at first. Once you’ve got to grips with the system, it’s not at all difficult to book a doctor’s appointment for PrEP, for example.
However, we mustn’t forget that it is generally difficult for migrants to understand how their host country works. They have to learn everything from scratch, just like a child – how to buy tickets, open a bank account or send post; especially if they were forced to migrate and had to leave their home country without any preparation or planning. Whilst this isn’t particularly complicated in itself, for people who have just arrived – especially in the midst of a war – it can all feel overwhelming at first.

Our idea was, in collaboration with the Ukrainian HIV self-help organisation 100% Life and the National HIV Hotline, to build a sort of bridge between Ukrainian and German services and to explain to people how they can find help in Germany.
To this end, we have built up a large database of medical and social services, as well as the contact details of NGOs and organisations, and translated all the necessary information into Ukrainian. After all, you cannot learn a language in just a few days or weeks, so the language barrier is one of the main communication problems.
We also offer psychological support to people, as many of those who come to Germany suffer from psychological distress caused by war and displacement.

Online via a secure video platform with psychologists joining the session from Ukraine.
We have also set up a chatbot which, whilst very simple, still provides people with basic answers to legal questions. We have programmed it with the most frequently asked questions about entering Germany. Many of these also relate to HIV. For example, whether I’m allowed to work in Germany if I have HIV, whether my visa application could be refused because of my HIV status, and so on.
Another important tool is the translation service. Everyone knows how difficult it is, for example, to get an appointment with a specialist, but it is even harder to find doctors who speak Russian, Ukrainian or English. If the doctor’s appointment has been booked well in advance, we can arrange for interpreters to join the consultation online. This service has already been used a hundred times.

We only went live in mid-May, but around 6,000 people have already used the website in the first three months.

I think they’re living a great life: there are no rocket attacks, no bomb alerts. But seriously: I think it’s always complicated when you arrive in another country as a refugee. And it’s even more complicated to be a gay refugee, and if you’re an HIV-positive gay refugee, there are a few extra problems on top of that. Not only do you have to sort out your papers, find a flat and a job, but you also have to organise your HIV treatment. All of this is, of course, a huge burden for these people. But generally speaking, I think Germany is one of the best countries for gay people in Europe. And I believe that Ukrainian gay men who have come to Germany didn’t necessarily expect that.

That’s a complicated question. The very best way to support all Ukrainians would be, for example, to provide financial backing for our military operations against Russia. Of course, that’s rather difficult to put into practice.
If you want to help people in a practical way, the best thing is to support them with their integration. I would have been very glad if, during my first few weeks in Germany, I’d had someone to explain to me how things work here. There are now many organisations that help Ukrainians with basic issues, such as finding accommodation or dealing with paperwork. You can get involved in this area too.