“The police van stopped somewhere, and they started their favourite trick – corridor: we are running, they are beating us up”
Marked with a red mark hit especially hard
Marked with a red mark hit especially hard
Yuri Bobyrev still wonders why he was detained. Because of the white bracelet? Or a video of beeping cars? On August 11th he was going home from work through the frozen city. His way back took altogether one day and a half. He had to change 5 police vans by then. He spent 24 hours with his hands behind his back in a local police station. And after the final “prevention” beating at Okrestina Yuri couldn’t sit properly, and his bruises went away only in a month.
Detained by OMON at Nemiga river bank on his way home
– After work I went to the university to hand in certain documents and my plan was to go by metro, but my wife called and told me that the whole Blue line was closed, so I went to MacDonalds on Bangalor square. But it was closed, too. Taxis were unavailable. So I went by walk towards Nemiga – will catch a shuttle bus there, I figured. I didn’t pay attention then, but now I remember: the streets were almost empty.
I was already going down towards Svisloch river banking when a minivan stopped nearby. A masked man was at the wheel and I realized it was OMON, so I did my best not to reveal any panic. I passed in a few meters from them and sat on the banking to have rest. One of them came up to me casually and asked what I had in my backpack. There was no illegal stuff. He asked me why my leg was bandaged. I had to walk with an elastic bandage then – because of a chronic skin disease. He asked if a had a doctor’s certificate with me. But who carries such a paper? So, I followed him inside the van.
Already there were three teenagers, including a girl. I said I could call my wife to send me a doctor’s certificate photo if it mattered. The OMON guy told me: we’ll get it straight, sit quiet. They checked our mobiles. Mine contained only news screenshots, all of them about the elections. And two videos of beeping cars near my metro station, Petrovschina, on August 10th where we came with my wife. I started explaining that it was right near my house – but he shut me up.
The door opened and the officer said: let the girl out, we are taking the guys. He didn’t even care what was found in our mobiles. I thought they would take some “preventive measures” and release us. I didn’t know then how detained people were treated.
First the teenagers were let go, then the moved on, stopped and I was told to go out. I thought they were letting me out, too, went out with a sense of relief – and all of a sudden, they thrust my arms behind my back, my head down. And I could see a door of a police van in front of me. I could hear screams from the inside. I went down on my knees, put my head on the bench, hands behind my head. I heard blows of the sticks, someone was screaming. I tried to freeze, as if I wasn’t there at all.
The OMON guy tore the bracelet off my wrist and said: Eat it!... I was really sitting and chewing the bracelet
Someone took me by the hair – I had long hair then, in a bunch – and threw on the floor. One of them started asking me questions like: “What is wrong with our authorities, eh? What is it on your wrist?” I was always wearing a white bracelet then. The other guy was searching my phone and kept calling me an animal. The first guy tore the bracelet of my wrist and said: Eat it!... I didn’t want to do that, so he stuffed it in my mouth. I was really sitting and chewing the bracelet. Then they got the elastic band from my hair and made me chew it, too.
I was thrown into another police van, in a tiny cell, then two young guys were put into. We could sit there, more or less, but they told us: “We’ll f*** you up, if you dare”. The van stopped somewhere, and they started their favourite trick – “corridor”: we are running through, they are beating us up. And each time they were calling one of us bad names. They called me Jesus or archbishop – because of my beard and long hair.
We were again put in a van, into a similar cell, but now there were 5 of us there. No ventilation. We stood there for an hour and heard them bringing in other prisoners, beating them. There was one guy in a bikers’ suit – and they were beating him with extreme violence. They believed he had come to a meeting in this outwear in order to attack OMON soldiers. They were paranoic about that.
A guy in my cell was complaining of being sick. They dragged him out and started searching his backpack. They found some constructive glue – and poured it onto his head. They made him wash his face with it. I saw it in a door crack. Then they put him back into a cell. He was losing consciousness by then. Only in a while an OMON soldier brought us a bottle of water.
I was arrested at about 6 p.m. One of my fellow-prisoners wore an Mi Band: he said it was half past eight, when the car was started on and went off. We were brought to a police station. When they were taking us out of the van, they were shouting like hell, we are going to kill you, and battering walls with their sticks. Like crazy gorillas. They were opening all doors, beating and throwing out everyone. I was let out the last, and they struck me a couple of times with a stick, then I got a kick on my ribs with a soldier boot, and fell on a bunch of people.
We had to lie on the lawn face down – and our hands were fixed with elastic ties. We heard more and more detainees brought in – but nothing more was happening. If anyone asked a question or moved, one of specifically furious soldiers beat him up. A guy whose nose was broken with a soldier’s boot was lying next to me. His whole face was in caked blood, he was croaking and pleading for help – but they ignored him. I heard another guy having an attack – an epileptic fit, I guess. He was twitching, making some gurgling sounds – and they were laughing out loud. It took them some time to realize that it was serious. They called an ambulance and poured a bottle of water into him.
While we were lying down, the cops were chatting: “Are there cool guys among them at all?.. Hey, who is “dedicated” among you?” Several people said they were. “There you go, brave ones, and all the rest had been paid for”.
When younger guys were relased, they kept joking: “Go ask cool guys, maybe they’ll give you some money”.
It was the first moment without ties. To say the truth, it was even harder than beating
In the night, when they stopped bringing people in, we were told to change the posture – now we had to stand on our knees, foreheads on the ground. By midnight they allowed us to stand up. To take one by one to a “WC” – to the tree to piss. Those who had warm clothes with them could put them on. I wore only shorts and a t-shirt. Then we formed a line along the wall, and they started releasing the ties. They told us to stand closer together – to get some warmth.
Only in the afternoon on August 12th we signed protocols. There were rumors: if you don’t sign, it’ll get worse; if you do, they will most likely let you go. But only in the early evening they started taking us away, in small groups. When I was taken to the police van, I took my backpack off my back and put it on the bench, together with some other things. An OMON guy got wild that I didn’t ask for permission – he took me by the hair, threw into the cell and began kicking me. In a couple of minutes, they put me and a guy with the broken nose into another van. I understood already that I had to take my belongings with me – and everything was repeated.
At Okrestina they made a “corridor”, too. We were told to throw ourselves down, “muzzle in the ground” – now they were beating us with sticks, while we were lying down. Then they cut off the ties and thrusted us into an exercise cell. It was the first moment without ties. To say the truth, it was even harder than beating. My shoulders were falling apart… We approached the wall and leaned on it with our hands, to relax a little bit.
The cell was stuck up. On guy had an awful black eye and a red mark on half the face, as if from hitting an iron. It was probably a tire trace. Another guy had a completely purple arm, it was broken and swollen. The ambulance came for him only in the night. I realized that we were even lucky.
We were told to wait for the trial. And we waited, till night. From time to time we heard more people brought in. We heard a guy fall in a passage, and the soldiers say: “We gonna f*** you up until you stand up”. He was screaming at first, then there was silence – they were beating him non-stop.
Then we were given some food, for the first time – a bucket of meatballs, everyone took one, and a few loafs of bread. At 1 o’clock a.m. they called out a few names, including mine. They said we were damn lucky: they were letting us out. We were 18. They divided us into two groups, one of which was taken away. After a while we heard some guys shouting: “We love OMON!” – and they beat and beat them. We figured we were to get the same.
They made us sing Belarus hymn. Anyway, it is less humiliating than singing I love OMON
We were lined up along the wall and they beat us on the legs to make us stand as astride as we could; they beat us on the back. Then we had to lie down, and they started beating us heavily. They kicked us on the same spots, to make sure that they beat our legs off. I think it was the first time that I was screaming with pain. Everybody was screaming by then. We lay like that for 5-7 minutes.
They made us sing Belarus hymn. Anyway, it is less humiliating than singing “I love OMON”. But it took much more time: one or another was forgetting the lyrics, and they beat him. We were lucky – a guy at the end of the line knew the hymn by heart. “Maybe they are kidding us? Maybe they are not going to let us go?” – we thought.
Interesting: when you watch war movies and picture yourself there, you are sure you would do something heroic, would try to save someone, or at least say something out loud. But we were put in the circumstances in which, whatever you’d do you’d make it worse for you and for others. No heroism was possible. That was a little revelation I made.
They cut my hair with the knife. They tried to scalp everyone with longer hair. Then we were up and ran along the fencing one by one, somewhere. One smart-ass was aiming at my groin. In the very front of the gates they started again intimidating us. With the same phrase: “You want changes, eh?” Which was usually followed by a blow.
We were taken into the street, told not to look back and to run in different directions after they say “one! two!”. In a small park, we ran into the guys who were waiting for their friends. While we were talking, someone shouted: “Bat-mobile is coming!”, meaning – the police van, and all of them vanished. We were afraid of being “packed” again. They didn’t give us back neither our belongings, nor mobiles or money.
By the way, when they were making lists of our things at the local police station, the money was taken from many of us. One guy had 300 Euros in his purse, and he tried to explain that he had just exchanged his salary. He did some repair works. They tried to beat the information out of him – saying he had been paid for the meeting. They were like trick dogs and seemed to really believe that we were Nazi, or something.
A volunteer arrived and took me home, it was 2 a.m. by then. There, seeing my crying mom and my wife I felt worse than ever. The beatings, the tortures – I could survive that… As my beloved one told me they were calling all the police stations, the courts, Zhodino – they even went there. It was so sad to think that not only me and a few guys had suffered, but that it was systematic, happening to a great many people. And that they won’t receive any punishment for this.
When we were released from Okrestina. I could even run, though limping. But the next day I couldn’t stand up at all. My legs were beaten off. It took a month to heal them, now everything is fine. So strange: the first few days after detention were psychologically much easier than the rest. I was happy it was over. But later you monitor the situation, you get worried. And there is always fear that the same can happen to my family. I didn’t let my wife out of the house – I couldn’t imagine what I would do if she got arrested. I pled to work from home.
My friends supported me, naturally. One of them even said: “If it didn’t happen to you, I wouldn’t believe it”.
But at mom’s work, the reaction was weird. Her colleagues believed her, but… “He shouldn’t have gone out”, someone said. So, for my mom it was psychologically harder than for me.
P.S. Yuri sent a complaint to the Investigation Committee of Moscow district, and his case was sent to the central office. 10 days before the interview an investigator asked him on the phone if he had undergone a forensic examination – his case lacked it. But that very investigator was aware that Yuri did visit a state medical clinic and did an ultrasound check in a private one.
On September 18th Yuri took a letter out of the post box – stating that he had a trial on September 9th, had been informed about it but didn’t show up and refused to give evidence. He was given a fine at the rate of 20 minimal salaries. He did appeal against it but there is no reply yet. His mother got the same fine for an evening walk. Since her son was taken to Okrestina, the woman goes for a walk in her town every evening.
Detained by OMON at Nemiga river bank on his way home