Could anyone in Bulgaria forget July 24 2007? It was the day when the six Bulgarian medics accused of deliberately infecting more than 420 children with HIV in Libya were returned to Bulgaria after spending eight years in Libyan prison.

Speculation that they would be finally released had been floating around for several days by that time, so at first, few believed media reports that a French presidential aircraft would land at Sofia Airport early in the morning of July 24. But it did, replete with the six medics, French first lady of the time Cecilia Sarkozy and European Commissioner for External Relations Benita Ferrero-Waldner.

The news of their release spread far and wide and in just a few hours it was the most discussed topic in cafes, public transport, offices... everywhere. Bulgaria and the European Union were rejoicing. Bulgaria had just entered the EU and expectations that the union would "fix us" in some magical way were still great. The medics' release seemed an example of what the EU could do for Bulgarians.

The medics had suffered eight years of physical and psychological torture and were twice condemned to death, until, in July 2007, their sentences were commuted to prison for life as a path to extradition. As soon as they got off the plane, though, Bulgarian President Georgi Purvanov pardoned them, despite Libya's loud protest, and Bulgarians finally felt mighty and delighted.

Six wretched, exhausted and ailing people got out of the aircraft that morning and it seemed that that day would mark the end of their nightmare and the beginning of a new integration in to society life, social support and family cosiness. As if we did not know how things were done in Bulgaria.

Every miracle for three days, as the local saying goes, and is so ruthlessly true. The rush of people with power and institutions to help the medics in those late-July days evaporated in the August heat. Days and months  passed and the case, somehow, faded away. The medics felt abandoned and forgotten.

A year later, life of the six is far from being perfect, or at least well arranged. Two of the nurses, Kristiyana Vulcheva and Nassya Nenova, study physiotherapy, the spokesperson for the medics Rossen Markov told The Sofia Echo. Valentina Siropoulo and Valya Chervenyashka work as nurses for a salary of 260 leva (nearly 130 euro), in Pazardjik and Byala Slatina, respectively. Meanwhile, Ashraf Al-Hadjoudj makes his living as a porter and Snezhana Dimitrova returned from Libya too ill to work.

Over the year, Vulcheva and Dimitrova published books on their horrific story, called, respectively, J'ai garde la tete haute (I Kept My Head Held High) and Neuf Ans d'enfer - Cauchemar (Nine Years of Hell - A Nightmare). Both books were written in France and published in France and Bulgaria. Al-Hadjoudj married and saw the birth of his son, while Nenova faced a divorce procedure. Doctor Zdravko Georgiev, who was also imprisoned with the six medics, but was released earlier, became an active member of the Bulgarian Medical Association. All the medics became honorary citizens of their native towns.

Soon after the release of the medics, Libya and France announced the signing of an agreement for a huge nuclear project. Later, Bulgaria and France brought back to the agenda a 750 million euro offset deal for corvettes for the Bulgarian navy. Do the medics feel used in a way? "Yes, they definitely do," Markov said. "They feel used by PR actions, as well as by economic interests, both by Bulgaria and France and many others who made billions out of the tragedy." The medics were forgotten and abandoned, "which is just like the Bulgarian habit", he said.

The day after the release, Labour and Social Policy Minister Emilia Maslarova and Health Minister of that time Radoslav Gaidarski promised that the state would cover the medics' medical treatment and insurance. It was not until July 17 2008, when the Cabinet was faced with threats of public protest by the medics, that the decision to cover the costs of social security and health insurance contributions of the medics was finally made. The reasons for the delay were "administrative". The benefits would cover the period the medics were in custody in Libya, Deputy Labour Minister Lazar Lazarov said. The insurance payments, however, would be based on the minimum salary for that period. This meant that the years spent in prison would be recognised as "work experience", and the medics would not lose their right to a pension, Lazarov said. "Nothing had been done in the meantime," Markov told The Sofia Echo. "[Labour Minister] Maslarova refused any meetings with the medics."

In August 2007, Purvanov announced that he would commit himself to supporting the medics, promising them assistance with medical treatment and adaptation to normal life. "I remember him saying, `I have a special plan for you'. Obviously the plan is secret, because no one found out what it was," Markov said. Apart from promises, they did receive something real: each of the five nurses received an apartment in Sofia. However, none of them moved in because the apartments were not finished, lacking electricity and water supply.

Ever since their return, the medics have been asking to meet Prime Minister Sergei Stanishev. He has refused.

The medics are currently focusing on their May 6th Foundation, which aims to become an international organisation helping children and other Bulgarian medics working abroad. Co-founder of the foundation is the Bulgarian Parliament. The name came from the date of the second death sentence the six received in May 2004.

In mid-July, the six demanded to meet Purvanov, but instead were given a meeting with his chief of staff Nikola Kolev and national ombudsman Ginyo Ganev on July 21, promising co-operation. "After a year of doing nothing, a decision for more active function of the foundation was taken," Markov told The Sofia Echo. "The foundation was the medics' way to turn from victims to fighters for rights."

In an interview on the same day, July 21, Purvanov told 24 Chassa daily that "hundred to thousands, to, not say millions, of Bulgarian people have problems that are no less important" than those of the freed medics.

A year after the release, it turns out that the motto of the campaign in favour of the medics - You Are Not Alone - has died away and only the bitter sense that they are, in fact, alone resonates.