“If they did not beat us, they laughed looking at others beating us”
Marked with a red mark hit especially hard
Marked with a red mark hit especially hard
Artur was going home from work late at night when already in his backyard an unknown voice called out, “Young man, stand still.” In a minute, the 22-year-old lad was down, his face on the asphalt. Together with a dozen men he did not know he was taken by a police van to the Okrestina detention centre. On the way the detainees were made to confess love for OMON and sing the Belarusian anthem, and at the centre they were repeatedly beaten up. After three days in detention the young man was dismissed from work and, bruised, chafed and penniless, went back to his hometown, Slavgorod in the Mogilev Region.
Beaten up by law enforcers
– That night I was going home from work, talking with my girlfriend on the phone. I worked at the Evroopt warehouse in the Privolny township outside Minsk and lived next to the Kamennaya Gorka metro station. I worked every day from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. and returned home late, closer to 11 p.m.
I already took a turn into our backyard when an unknown voice called out, “Young man, stand still.” I turned around and saw a shotgun pointed at my face. I told my girlfriend: “I’ll call you back later, kitty,” and was laid face down on the asphalt. They wrote in the report later that I had been taken off the barricades at Serebryanka, where I threw Molotov cocktails at the OMON police. But in truth I had no part in the protests, just wanted peacefully to get home after a hard day.
The driver was quite careless, hitting all the bumps and potholes, perhaps, on purpose to make us bang our heads against the steel ceiling
I was shoved into a police van. It was dark and stuffy inside. They did not allow us to hold onto sides, beating us on the hands. So, we had to stretch ourselves out to the maximum to push our heads against the ceiling. That was how we held on. The driver was quite careless, hitting all the bumps and potholes, perhaps, on purpose to make us bang our heads against the steel ceiling of that deadly vehicle. On the way to the detention centre the OMON men made us, the detainees, confess our love for OMON and sing the Belarusian anthem. They also pulled down our trousers and shorts and threatened to rape us with their batons. The drive to Okrestina seemed an eternity.
As many as 35 of us were squeezed into a detention cell with beds for five. The lucky ones slept two to a bed, the others under the beds or on the floor. There were no bedsheets, and we used our sneakers for pillows.
They kept beating us up throughout those three days. Boys with tattoos (for some reason they were called Nazis) and those with white ribbons on their wrists got it particularly hard. Girls were abused in every way and threatened with gang rape. We were all treated like shit there. There was no food. Once we were given a bucket of some rotten fish swill, but we were so hungry that in a minute it was all gone.
All the guards without exception were itching to beat us. If they did not beat us, they laughed looking at others beating us. There was a feeling they liked doing it. I don’t know how one can be so aggressive and inhuman. Perhaps, they were pumped up with something. Only two guards out of a hundred remained human: one would give us a lighter and allow to smoke while the other phoned our relatives when off duty.
Now I’m a little wary of returning home alone: there is the nagging thought that someone might seize me again
As for the other detainees, we felt like close relatives. We worried about and supported one another, offered whatever help we could in those conditions and tried to cheer up one another. Were it not for them, perhaps, I would have slashed my wrists just to avoid being locked up in Okrestina.
Now I am fine. After I was released from Okrestina, my shoulder blade was swollen for three days. My bruises and abrasions are gradually healing. My thanks to the medics and volunteers who kept a vigil by Okrestina. They immediately examined and fed me, psychologists talked to me, and I felt safe. I missed three workdays because of the arrest and was dismissed without any wages. So, I went back to my hometown, Slavgorod, penniless and all beaten up. I thank volunteers for helping me buy a ticket home.
Generally speaking, now I’m a little wary of returning home alone: there is the nagging thought that someone might seize me again. It is very sad that in peacetime we have to worry about our physical safety and that innocent people suffer somewhere near.
P.S. Artur did not file a statement with the Investigative Committee.
Beaten up by law enforcers