The story of “Sachko Horundi” begins with running away from home in “Zakarpattia” and living for a few months in “Lviv” train station. He continues his attempts to find a job and restore old furniture while searching for something of his own. A search eventually led him to a used-fabric store. Sachko sewed the first backpacks from his old T-shirts, an activity he saw as a form of therapy. He nearly gave up hope because his backpacks were not being sold, but social media helped spread his story quickly. Today, Horundi is one of the most famous Ukrainian brands. The material is ordered externally, but nearly every item includes a colorful ribbon of remembrance fabric.
The success of Ukrainian brands over the past few years has been impressive. With new names emerging every year, more and more forms of self-expression are created through clothing and accessories, and the phrase “Made in Ukraine” increasingly means: modern, high-quality and environmentally friendly.
While the old garment factories failed to adapt to the modern market and gradually closed, the smaller manufacturers on the contrary managed to achieve success. Although they cannot compete with the large firms in terms of quantity, they receive greater recognition among consumers.
Horundi, the brand for Sashko, is one such manufacturer. It all started when a friend once asked him to sew a makeup bag, and then another. Then came several attempts to sew his first backpack. Today, Sachco employs few people and orders are scheduled in advance.
From Mukachevo to Lviv
Sachko is now 28 (as of 2019) ten years ago, he fled his home in Mukachevo by boarding a train bound for the unfamiliar city of Lviv. At home, he became associated with the wrong crowd, one with an internal hierarchy where higher-ranking people routinely collect fees from lower members:
The younger people give money to the middle, and the middle to the older. We were forced to pickpocket or steal or do similar things. Now you can’t tell by looking at me, but that’s what we used to do. Some may be stolen from their homes. things like that. Sometimes the police would come to your house and at the end you got a criminal record. That was kind of a red flag to me. I remember how a policeman said to me something like, “Run away from town or I don’t know. You’re all going to jail.”
Sachko came to Lviv with only 20 hryvnias in his pocket. He slept in a train station attic and rummaged through the rubbish bins for something to eat. He knew he could get pocket money from grandmothers selling used things outside the train station if he collected books, kitchen utensils, or clothes at a landfill. He did not believe that people help others out of a sincere desire to serve without getting anything in return. Which is why the free meals offered by the Protestant Church, the homeless shelters on Kerilivska Street, or the Emmaus Osseilia community seemed inconsequential and strange.
Emmaus Osilia helps homeless people and people with difficult living conditions re-establish themselves in society by providing practical jobs and a place to sleep. Sachko calls Oselia “little communism”: all money is shared, divided equally, and spent on societal needs. The organization does not depend on external funding and has to devise innovative ways to earn money for its work:
It offers different things to the different people who come – a kind of protection, a way to quit drinking, or even as a meaning of life. For me at the time, it was just a free gift, something that simply fell from the sky. I was given food, clothes, a little money, and some work for free. When I came, the first day they gave me a shovel and said to me, “Remove snow from the street.” It was great! I was doing something and I didn’t have to search through litter boxes anymore. Since he only spent three months on the streets, he is not used to this lifestyle, which made it easy to return to society. Over time, Sachko landed a furniture upholstering job that he did not enjoy much, in contrast to his temporary job as a homeless shelter manager. So he gathered enough courage to leave the job and seized the opportunity to start his own business.
The first backpack
Sachko saw no future for himself in his furniture upholstery business. The job offered by Emmaus Osseilia was a source of income but she was not satisfied:
I had to constantly force myself to go there. I was waking up thinking, “Oh this freaking job.” I counted minutes in every shift. When I started making backpacks for the evening, I hardly earned anything from them. But despite everything, I had fun doing it. So I decided I had better do something I really like.
After the death of Olsia Sanotska (she was the founder and director of Emaus Osseilia), Sachko faced a choice either to continue social work or take risks and start making backpacks full-time. She was the first to insist that he take his handmade items to a garage to sell and eventually try to sell them. She argued and convinced him that his work had value. Sachko was resistant:
I made backpacks for sale and then sold them all in half an hour or an hour. That was crazy. I remember how (Olsia) came to me and asked, “Okay? Where have your backpacks gone?”
The materials improved along with Sachko’s skills. Initially, he used worn clothes. It’s in a donation center for her thrift store, where volunteers sort and sell used clothes. Part of it is given to the homeless, while the profits are used to provide free meals. Sashko used shirts or jackets from this store for his first backpacks. After he started making some profits, he was able to afford small pieces of fabric from El Jim’s stores
At first, he used sewing machines donated by volunteers, then he borrowed money to buy a new one. Later, after receiving a grant from the British Council to develop the entrepreneurship skills of students and new businessmen, he was able to purchase more equipment. Of course, Sachko has seen a lot of ups and downs before his business settled into profit:
– I was getting frustrated when, for example, after I quit a furniture job and turned to making backpacks and there weren’t enough orders or sometimes no orders at all. You say “Damn her.” Then I drop the backpacks again and go back to the upholstery. It happened twice. Then I hired a girl, but there was no work for me. it was hard.
Not a job
Currently, Sachko makes a few backpacks daily and has two employees and he is looking for opportunities to buy more sewing machines and hire more people. Things improved thanks to a few Facebook posts. Journalists and bloggers who bought the backpacks shared the brand on social media and the media. Orders are now coming in from abroad as well, from Europe, the USA and Canada. One backpack was sent to Australia:
I don’t give myself credit for that. It’s just that people supported me in specific moments.
Sachko jokes that even though he’s making a living, he’s still not able to buy an iPhone yet. Although he is not interested in this type of expense:
This money can be used in other ways, to buy more equipment or something … like buying a new fabric, or going to Turkey and exploring their fabric market. Their market is very well developed. It’s definitely not the same again here. Yes, but I still can’t believe everything is going well. It is a wonderful miracle. It is not known the total number of backpacks he manufactured; The count is lost. Besides his backpacks, which are all waterproof, Sachko also manufactures handbags, briefcases and wallets. Most orders come in fall, winter, and spring. In the slow summer months, Sachko and Katrina make backpacks for stores that also care about his brand.
These days you can find and buy handmade items anywhere. They are more expensive, have higher quality, and are not designed for the mass market. Talented craftsmen oversee the creative process of each item and don’t treat any aspect of production as a mechanical routine. Sachko still considers Burundi a hobby that also happens to be profitable:
I don’t even have a set schedule; I work from morning to evening. I almost feel like I won’t have any friends soon because I never see them and instead stay at work, sitting here downstairs. I don’t know, for me, it’s some kind of therapy sometimes or something similar. I mean, I don’t feel tired or “I have to go to work.” For me, it’s not even a job.
Customers are actively involved in the whole process once they purchase a Sashco Backpack. After submitting the application, they specify the desired model, color, and shape. Even after receiving the order, customers often reach out to express their gratitude for the product. Although in reality, it is Sachko who is grateful for their requests because he appreciates their confidence in him. Handcrafted culture facilitates a whole new level and quality of communication between the customer and the manufacturer. Sachko also says:
– The time I used to live on the streets, and all that. I think about that time a lot. No, I’m not sad, no. Instead, I motivate myself with that, when some difficulties come, I respond with optimism. Something bad must happen to me in order to head in the right direction. But I am not sad, nor do I regret any of it, no. It was kind of difficult, but now I realize that if I hadn’t done it, I wouldn’t be the way I am today. No matter how corny this looks.
