It was an ordinary day in September. No miracles happened. Quite the opposite.

Olga received a call from her husband at work. He had just come from the doctor, who had told him that their son, Misha, a first-grader, had Stargardt disease, a rare genetic condition which causes retinal dystrophy and loss of central vision. Worst of all, there is no cure.

Almost six months later, Misha's central vision had almost completely disappeared. He was left with peripheral vision, which doesn’t allow him to see everything, but he can make out some things. There is now more light in Olga's house than ever before. Misha carries a lamp with him everywhere and, miraculously, continues to build his favorite Lego sets.

"At first I thought my life was over. The child was blind and disabled,” says Olga Pakulina. “Then I realised that all I have left is today. Today my child was able to go to school - and that's a victory. Today he went to play football and managed to kick a ball - and that’s also a victory and a miracle that must be appreciated." She has been with the company for about two years and leads the team of financial controllers in FinOps. Together with her colleagues, she is responsible for the finances of almost all macro-regions except APAC and North America.

Of course, Olga had never heard of Stargardt's disease before, but now she knows a lot about it, maybe everything. For example, that scientists don't yet know how to treat it, but that the United States is furthest along in its attempts to find a cure. Research is also underway in Russia. The University of Sechenov has developed a computerised treatment model that looks very promising. Scientists would like to start trials, but there is currently no funding available. They need around 3 million rubles ($33,500) to bring genetically modified mice from China to the special laboratory.

Now, together with other parents of patients, she is raising money to help bring closer the day when Stargardt disease is no longer considered incurable. So far, only half of the money has been raised.

Despite the deterioration in his eyesight, Misha has remained in his class and continues to study with good grades. He now has an electronic magnifying glass on his desk. There are other aids to help him keep up with his learning.

After changing almost in an instant, life has gone on. It's very different, but it's still happening. Having overcome her confusion, Olga is now helping other parents who are joining her small community of patients. Together they hope a cure will be found. After all, if every day is a small miracle, there is surely room in the world for other long-awaited wonders.

In Natalia’s house there is a homemade poster on the wall with a message to lift the spirit. Her son Ivan drew a tractor, to which Natasha then added the phrase: "A tractor will not buy itself".

This poster is like a response to any question of what to do. A tractor won't buy itself. A child won't teach himself to swim. School problems won't fix themselves. Autism will not correct itself.

Vanya is studying in a remedial class, on a programme that will allow him to pass the standardised school exam in the future and move on to higher education. Natalia learnt about the fact that Vanya has a special condition when her son was just two years old. "At first, of course, you sob, and then you realise that you have to do something," she says.

The doctor who diagnosed him explained, quite lucidly and in a detailed manner, what would happen next. Imagine a pendulum. On one side is autism. On the other, normal life. This pendulum must be swung constantly, pushing the child away from autism and in the direction of ordinary life. Of course, the pendulum will swing back, but that's no excuse not to swing it again. Swimming, music lessons, travelling and, of course, lots and lots of remedial classes - all this swings the pendulum.

Natalia understands and accepts her son’s condition. But even the most aware people cannot avoid periodic reprimands from society - remarks or retorts thrown in passing by adults to someone else's child who, as they think, behaves in a bad way.

"At such moments, and at other times too, Vanya is my main support," says Natalia. "When I look at him, I see a kind and bright person next to me. I immediately have the strength to swing the pendulum again."

Interested in the details? Ask Roman Fazulyanov if you get a chance. He works as a front-end team leader in the team responsible for NGFW (Next-Generation Firewall). Perhaps he will tell you this "duck tale", as he has already told our future interns in the SafeBoard programme. They say that after his presentation there were a lot of people who wanted to grow in the JavaScript field.

Last year, Roman moved from Ulyanovsk to Moscow with his family and has been working at Kaspersky since March 2023. He has a technical education, but he learned the programming language he uses today on his own. He’s used to doing things on his own. And often in spite of everything. For example, he writes his presentation with the ducks and the code for the NGFW project with one hand, his left.

In his case, "one arm behind his back" isn’t a figure of speech, but a harsh reality. His right arm and leg are affected by cerebral palsy. When he was a child, Roma's knees were always bruised and scratched as a result of him constantly falling over.

A few years ago, the constant strain of working with a computer mouse caused his left hand to fail - carpal tunnel syndrome developed and his hand began to hurt and lose sensitivity. Roman had to give up the mouse and switch to using only a keyboard. He learnt to use the text editor Vim, which allowed him to work without a mouse. And he now has a mechanical keyboard at work with a trackpoint - a way of using the cursor.

Roman doesn’t like undue attention given to his health issue. And if someone suddenly offers him a seat on public transport out of courtesy, he’s more likely to be frustrated than pleased.

"Just ignore the fact that I have cerebral palsy," he says.

He's quite masculine in general. And he's even chosen a hobby to match - he's joined the C-League, where people with cerebral palsy (and other disabilities) can master the art of modern sword fighting.

"It's very important to talk about the fact that there are people with disabilities and to highlight the fact that they can work and live a full life," says Roman. "Very often people with cerebral palsy give up, stop fighting. That’s not the way it should be. Even if God didn't give you better health, you still have a brain! And thanks to your brain and your perseverance, all limitations fall away. Of course it's a challenge, everyone has their own, but you can't give up.”

A few years ago, just before her promotion, Zuzana was diagnosed with a very rare skin condition called prurigo nodularis. The disease progressed and changed her daily life beyond recognition, but not even her colleagues even noticed.

Zuzana smiles with love and sincerity. Despite the challenges, she continues to motivate and encourage her team, which, as you can imagine, has also had a tough time in recent years due to the complicated global geopolitical situation.

"I am very happy that I can continue to lead my team. And my disability card has not been an obstacle for me. We are moving forward, trying to do our job as well as we can. I do this for the company, for the team, for myself and for my child," says Zuzana, whose daughter has autism.

"I have a few close friends, but my main support is probably my daughter. I want her to see me as an example, to know that a disability is not an obstacle, at least in the workplace. You can and should go ahead and do what you think is important, no matter what the circumstances," she says.

*While you won't encounter Zuzana at our Moscow office, in this case the building is a token of our common cause, rather than an effort to be documentarily accurate.