"Why don't they just invade Okrestina from the outside and set us free?"
Marked with a red mark hit especially hard
Marked with a red mark hit especially hard
Before the elections Yana would joke that she would willingly take up space in the prison truck so that there would be no room for men left. On August 9, this very thing happened: the girl deliberately entered the prison truck after her male friend had been captured. She did not regret it – neither in the 4-person cell where 56 people were held, nor trying to fall asleep when listening to men's screams at night on Okrestina, nor waiting for the execution in the prison courtyard. But the problem is that Okrestina is still with Yana – as the posttraumatic syndrome, hormonal imbalance, job loss and emigration.
Went into the prison truck following her friend and was taken to Okrestina detention center
The ghost Okrestina is still following Yana. She has the ovarian dysfunction caused by stress, asthenoneurotic syndrome; she had insomnia for a month. Metabolism went crazy, too. Yana was also fired from Belarusian State Academy of Communications where she had been teaching math for 4 years. Her firing took place on August 31, her contract had been already signed and the schedule was already formed. But the dismissal was the least of her problems. Those four days in August made her go abroad for rehabilitation. It has been partially successful. The observation shows that there should not be any gynecological problems. The treatment is decided on but doesn't work. On the other hand, she is making progress with her psychologist.
— Before Okrestina, I wanted to be everywhere with everyone. Right after that, I just wanted to be alone. I could ignore my friends during the whole week. I didn't go anywhere. I just ate sweets, watched some movies. They told me I had woeful eyes. No, not woeful!
Persistent insomnia. Or I have a dream that OMON (riot police- August 2020) caught a woman in the forest, and she, trying to avoid getting into their hands, cut her own throat. When I'm not asleep, I start getting philosophical. Why me? What if I hadn’t gone? In self-analysis, you just go deeper and deeper. And the final question is always the same: why didn’t our people manage [to win] on August 9, when everything was possible? I can manage sleep more or less now, of course.
I was telling my psychologist my story for two weeks, two hours a session – and that’s how I cried… I was talking and then oops, I forgot what I was saying. I couldn't even remember the university I had graduated from. I tried to recollect all the feelings I had then – some sort of fear, of misunderstanding, all that… Why can those things happen in the 21st century? (Tears on Yana's eyes.) I only read things like that in books about wars. I thought they were not humans, but some spawn of hell.
I was asked once: "Do you regret that you went there?" I regretted only one thing: it seemed to me that I gave the wrong answer during the trial, I needed to say that everything was my fault. But I never regretted that I had followed Roman.
There were 10-12 people in the prison truck: "What, you are taking girls already?" I said: Guys, it's my choice. The men began applauding. They told me I'm the Belarusian Joan of Arc.
On August 9, Yana with the folk group "Verbitsa" (it's a very serious hobby of hers) sang at the polling stations. The administration in charge of the stations didn't like their white bracelets. The girl waa going to go to the center in the evening, but her friend did not want to let her go by herself. They came to the stele "Minsk is a hero city." When OMON started hunting people, her friend Roman was also captured.
— Indignant, I ran after them. The OMON lad told me to go away. I tried to reason that we hadn't touched anyone. And what would they do? I would just spend a night at the police station, on the next day they would set us free, maybe with some warning. I couldn't just leave Roman there. I opened the door to the prison truck and came in.
There was a very specific mood then… It felt like a holiday: a lot of people came to the streets, you felt you were not alone thinking like you did. In our country, everyone hates the authorities, but nothing goes beyond conversations in your own kitchen.
There were 10-12 people in the prison truck: "What, you are taking girls already?" I said: Boys, it's my choice. The men began applauding. They told me I'm the Belarusian Joan of Arc. The men tried to persuade OMON to set us free. One guy's head was bloodied. I asked for a bandage, and one OMON guy in a maroon beret threw it sloppily at me. I'm not proud, I picked it up. Then my sister called me.
I didn't know that it is prohibited to use phone in a prison truck: "Natasha, I'm in a prison truck. Do not tell our mom." Instantly an OMON guy rushes to me trying to pick a phone. I'm telling him: "I won't give it to you, I do not believe you." I am polite – he is not. I never had any cases with the police before, I thought they were cultured men, I even tried to explain them that maroon berets were the elite of the society.
Near Nemiga, we were taken to another prison truck, into the so-called "glasses" (individual cells where people are transported standing – August 2020): three men in each, and I was alone. There was barely enough place just to sit, but the men were even beaten there. As we went to Okrestina, the OMON men were clubbing each door with their truncheons – and the doors were made from iron. we went to Okrestina, the OMON men thumped with clubs in every door – and the doors are from iron.
— I dodn't realize first that we were in Okrestina – I thought we were in a regular police station. And it began. I was walking and then started being pushed– I was so angry! In the corridor we were ordered to face the wall, put our hands on the wall, forehead to the red stripe. A man with a notepad sheet came: Time of detention? How was I supposed to know?!
Then we were pushed into a room, allegedly for "medical observation," another stage of humiliation. We had to remove everything we wore and squat; if anyone had underwires in their bra, it was taken away. Laces had to be removed from sneakers, from dresses… I asked for my phone to call my family, but they answered: "You should have thought earlier." I felt they were all zombies.
At first, there were three of us in the cell for six. Then other women began entering. When there were already 15 of us, I realized that it was not a limit yet. The maximum was 19. Later we developed a hashtag to find each other in Telegram. We are still communicating. (August2020 already published the stories of Anastassia Baklanova and Lena Amnuel, Yana's cellmates.)
On Okrestina, the fear prevailed – for me and those around. We felt bad for our men. There were bursts of aggression too. At some point we wanted to curse at the guards. One woman told us to be above this, to remember that we were almost elite. And really, there were teachers, a designer, a head of department in Indesit (a sales company – August 2020), an economist, a social worker, independent observers. The designer was lying on the floor and sobbing, her son was also caught. One elderly woman came, 68 years old, Lyudmila Yevgenievna. She was picketing with a placard. OMON told her: "Granny, we will take you to a safe place." And took her to a prison truck! One woman was taken by the hair from her car because her husband had a flag. One woman just went for vodka and was returning home with a plastic bag.
I thought we had to stay here for two hours: an investigator would question us, realize that everything was ok and set us free. But nobody came. Only the feeder (an opening in the door through which food is served – August 2020) sometimes opened, they asked our name, place of detention, workplace and place of residence.
The walls were mustard-colored, the mattresses were in urine, nobody had ever washed anything in the toilet area, it stank. Persistent noise of water – like in a nuthouse. We even tried to call a plumber! The windows were slightly open and barred. To breathe, people had to sit on the upper bunk.
We asked for medicine, sanitary pads. They refused: "Wipe off with your T-shirts." So, we tore one T-shirt apart. They told us we would be beaten if we ever call them again.
The feeder looked out on the stairs of the first floor, so we saw people who were escorted to cells. Real stream. Guys were absolutely naked, with red stripes on their backs. The guards saw we were watching, and once they kicked the door so hard that a girl got ear pain.
We tried to keep our sense of humor. Ok, there is an English teacher here, so let's try studying English. We tried to memorize some rhymes. We touched upon Belarusian topics, I started telling anecdotes and jokes because I worked in the Belarusian team. We tried to find out where we were, they told us: "This is your home." Next time they asked our place of residence during the next roll call, the girl who had been caught with vodka parried "What do you mean, Okrestina? You live here?" with "Seems so – you've told us yourself!" We were laughing so hysterically we thought they would barge in and beat us.
We asked for medicine, for sanitary pads. They refused: "Wipe off with T-shirts." We tore one T-shirt apart
We nicknamed one of the guards "Eyebrows." The second one, the chief floor guard, had hare-like teeth. He was a real jerk. On Monday, he tricked us: "If you sign these documents, all of you, without reading them, would be set free in 2 hours and a small fine." He hid the part of the page with his hand, I just saw between his fingers "Syhodz'" (Leave in Belarusian, one of the protest slogans – August 2020), house N44… We actually ended up signing blank pages later. When I went to see the protocol, I saw that it stated that I have no job, only secondary education, and lived with my parents, not even in Minsk. They wrote whatever they wanted. The elderly woman didn't sign anything, neither did the independent observer. If the guys refused to sign, they were pushed to a cell and beaten – then they signed.
In a couple of hours, the door was open: take your belongings. But it was not us who were going out, 16 more women were coming in. They were packing in the cells for new detainees. Those girls told us that we were lucky, they once got a bucket of water splashed at them because they were calling for guards more than we were.
There was a guy on our floor who was asking to call an ambulance over and over: another guy broke a leg. On the next morning, they shouted in the window when people came to Okrestina. I couldn't understand why nobody could call an ambulance. As it happened, they were not allowed. A man was shouting: "I had a heart attack, give me a pill, I will die" – "So you’ll kick the bucket, big deal." On Tuesday, the volunteers outside the prison walls called out our last names and our girl shouted back. They didn't manage to trace us but told us not to shout, otherwise they would close the windows. This would have been a catastrophe. When her mother shouted again from outside, we didn’t give an answer, obviously.
On Tuesday, we were brought to the trial. There were men with bruises, puffed-up lips, swollen eyes, stanched heads in the corridor. One of our girls had a white-red-white (protest colors – August 2020) T-shirt. She went to the trial pretty much in a bra, because god forbid anyone had anything symbolic like that, the guards became so aggressive. We were afraid to have white bracelets on, even white hair ties.
The judge asked: "You are a teacher, why don't you just sit at home?" – "Why can't we take a stand?" – "I'm asking questions here, not you." As the question so the answer. I thought I had to give a right answer to escape with a fine. I said that I was going from the concert and decided to see the rally. [they gave me a sentence of] Four days! Another four days? But why? They have some form of conveyor belt: a regular policeman came after this and asked what punishment I was given. I even wanted to lie that I was only fined. I came to the upper bunk crying and almost hating the girls who received a fine. I thought it was a nightmare. And I fell asleep. On Tuesday – for the first time.
You nap while other people shout and yell. This caused hysteria before. It is terrible, you get used to the fact that people are being tortured
Another tightening began that evening. Maybe they realized that there were no more places left? But no, we were transferred to the cell for four people. The door was opened – and we realized that the cell was full, and we couldn’t enter. I thought I would be beaten if I wouldn't squeeze in.
51 of us… Like in an overcrowded trolleybus during the rush hour. They began cursing at us – but it wasn’t our fault, we hadn't come here deliberately. Finally, we decided to keep silence to save air. I began drinking feed water. I could get sick, and I knew that nobody would help.
Nine girls then were taken into an isolation ward - "I'm helping you to get more space." There were five of us on the bed, and we kept our legs on the radiator because one girl was lying under our feet. One on the locker, another one in the locker – some space after all. You got dead arm or dead leg and change places. We were in our underwire because it was very hot. At night, they moved us out of the cell and filmed us.
The men were also packed in. We heard that someone began helping the man with the broken leg we all were rooting for but – "If you help, you’ll have your own just like that."
Our elderly woman, Liudmila Yevgenyevna, liked to quarrel with "The Eyebrows." She was a feisty one. He kept asking her to define "fascism," because she called them fascists. She told him: "You are a fascist – "I'm a son of a fascist.”
The men were severely beaten in the inner yard, and we heard it, though our windows faced the streets. They were screaming. It seemed endless. The women cried because there were their husbands and sons there. Then the gate was open, and the guards began cursing: "F*** off and make yourself scarce!" Someone thought that they were taken out to jail them again later, for escaping. Nobody thought they would just set us free. We had some sort of "hobby" – counting the prison trucks. 19-20 per night, and they had to "deal" with the new ones.
Every night they threw men out of their cells and beat them in the corridor. We heard these blows very well. And god forbid there is a phone call, this “released the dogs”: everyone was pummeled. We kept waiting for someone to come for us. We asked ourselves: Why don't they just invade Okrestina from the outside and make us free?
You can have a nap while other people shout and yell, then wake up because someone started shouting louder. This caused hysteria before. It is terrible, you get used to the fact that people are being tortured. It was calmer during daytime, they probably had to do their paperwork. When we called, someone came and cursed at us at night, during the day, nobody even came.
They were also knocking at the door all night long. When they stopped knocking, it meant they were going to open the cell and we had to be all standing by the time it was open. We would crawl out like cockroaches, from under the bed, from behind lockers, lining up to stand. If nobody opened, we went back to our places again.
We were told to stand near the wall. They had been beaten men all night through and set them free, and now they were going to shoot at us
At about 10 a. m. they began shouting out our last names and taking us out to the corridor. We had met the infamous Karina-Kristina there. We got to know what "Come, you f***ing whore" means. “F***ing whore” meant every single of us and we had to “spread our legs” (people were made to stand with their legs spread as wide as possible – August 2020) but we were already bumping against our neighbors’ legs. She was happy to kick us from behind with her boot.
When we went down the stairs, she pushed everyone. If one of us had fallen, we would have fallen all. I couldn't understand why she was so vicious, so disgusting. After we left, she beat one of the BELSAT (an independent news outlet – August 2020) journalists very severely.
We were told to stand near the wall. They had been beaten men all night through and set them free, and now they were going to shoot at us. I thought about my grandma at that moment for some reason (this is the second moment Yana has tears in her eyes). The men were out on the ground behind us, their head to the knees, arms behind their back. Like turtles. We could not even turn around to see them. We saw them when we were told to form columns of ten people in each. Because it turned out that nobody could squeeze in anymore.
The girls began to lose consciousness. We tried to help them – "turn around, stand still!" But how? There was a woman on the ground. The guy said: "Kick her in the face.” They poured water on her. Then whoever felt sick was allowed to sit: three days of starvation, dehydration, stress. I used to think I was strong but at that time felt as a rag.
— The head of my folk group came to Okrestina the next day. The mom of my best friend's BF was calling the hospitals, her BF the police stations. And my fiend tried to find other connections. On Wednesday, they were told I was sent to Zhodino but their roster did nit show that I arrived. My mother saw "Bobr Yan" in the lists and went hysterical: "You and tour runaway tongue, your bracelet, you were taken by an ambulance and couldn't pronounce your last name!"
In Minsk, our prison truck was honked at when leaving Okrestina, shouted at, obviously. At least we could sit and breathe fresh air. We were allowed to use the Internet, and OMON men told us: look how many policemen were killed… (Yana turns away, even now). That is why "they cannot not stand for their own, they must fight with us." I adopted the prison law: "Do not trust. Do not fear. Do not ask".
In Zhodino, we were met by men in olive uniform, with German shepherds. We had to run through the basement corridors while squatting. We were taken to the "grilled" area, the guard was walking above with an automatic gun. There was some music from the radio. It was cold, and we were embracing each other, like penguins. Then we were pushed into the a holding room. No windows, lots of soot, the walls were neither yellow nor brown, but really black. I tried to breathe into my dress. It seemed to me that I was already serving my life sentence.
Another security check. They had already seen our ears, our hair. What could we have taken from one prison to another? One more holding room. We sat there until night. Finally, we were taken to shower. But there are already other people there. Some sort of gas chamber… Why did they take 50 persons to one shower room? It was just a place to sort us once again and send to cells.
The cell was for 10 persons, there were 17 of us. Quite a luxury after Okrestina. They gave us towels and linen. We were washing our faces all night through. We held blankets for privacy for those who wanted to go to the toilet. We could sleep normally for the first time. Next morning, they even brought us porridge. We ate for the first time, but we didn't even want to. Lyudmila Yevgenyevna went on a hunger strike. We persuaded her that the strike is for them, not for us, that we wouldn't say anyone – and she ate.
We began memorizing phones. We tore off a sheet of toilet paper, pleated it, tore "2" on one stripe, "9" on another…
On Thursday, I asked when we would be released – "The documents from Okrestina haven't come yet." I got hysterical. It felt that my spine would break because of my breathing. Then they fixed the connection with Minsk. It turned out that some of us had two protocols. And they just added them together. I was at the stage when people begin thinking about slashing their wrists.
Whenever they opened the door I would thrust myself at the grill like an ape: "What about Bobrovskaya?" The metal door was shielded by the grill which was never open. Finally, they told us they were setting us free. We began memorizing phones. The only thing we came up with was to tear off a sheet of toilet paper, pleat it, tear "2" on one stripe, "9" on another…
We began searching for our belongings. Like the wheel of fortune. You enter an enormous cell and see backpacks, bags, broken telephones. Money, keys… Because nearly a hundred persons had been searching before you and these trash bags had been torn. Patty-cakes from bag lunches… Did a person take them to the rally, really? I tried to sort backpacks and bags on both sides neatly… 2nd floor, 2nd basement. Nothing was found. I told them I wasn't going anywhere without my possessions. The nature of a human who is never satisfied!
There was a unique person in this chaos: a man, 50-45 years old, decided to hide 50 rubles in his pants. One of the guards got suspicious and asked him to fold back the pant leg. It turned out that this guy had already been in Zhodino, and not because of his political convictions. He was taken round the corner to get taught a thing or two. I lost my temper and told him everything I think of him.
I learnt later that they didn't bring anything from Okrestina. No keys, no money, no telephone. It was around 8-9 PM. We were joking with the girls that we would have a release certificate instead of a ticket. Our smell was… in cartoons, it is depicted as green – I thought they would understand everything because of smell. One girl said “I am going to hitch-hike.” “Sure, and then you’ll get snatched and go to Okrestina again and then return to Zhodino on Monday.” And this thought! Like normal people ceased to exist for you!
I didn’t know there were so many volunteers (volunteers were keeping watch by the prison walls where people were detained – August 2020). 400-500 persons were waiting and applauding. Nobody never received me in such a way, even our folk band. I felt I had wings. They showed me photos, I tried to get to recognize anyone… It was really difficult to recognize men, I'd only seen them in corridors, in passing. More luck with the girls: yes, I knew her, we played chess with her, with pieces made from bread.
My family found me and began telling what was happening in Minsk. Girls were standing with flowers, cars signaling, music playing. I returned to a very different Belarus. I didn’t go outside for the first week. On Sunday I dressed in all white and went out. My heart was beating. It seemed to me that those men in black would at once pounce upon us, begin massacring and packing us. Some days after this, my friends were tried for the photos from rallies. I guess my trial is coming.
There are surely people who comment that I didn’t have to go to the rally… I liked one case. We were going home from the Sunday rally with flags in the subway, and an old woman told indignantly: "Why are you itching to go? We have pensions…" One old man answered: "It's time for you to die, and they haven't lived yet." We applauded him.
P.S. Yana filed an appeal, but with no result. She got to know about her upcoming Wednesday trial the next Thursday. She is planning to file a claim about tortures right with the UN.
Went into the prison truck following her friend and was taken to Okrestina detention center