"This wound on the body of Belarus will not heal so quickly"
Marked with a red mark hit especially hard
Marked with a red mark hit especially hard
Alexander together with a friend were detained on the second day of protests in the Nemiga area. They beat him up, threw him into a paddy wagon and took to the detention center on Akrestsina Street. During two days, the young man felt himself what OMON riot police chains are, learned to breathe in an overcrowded paddy wagon full of people and understood under what conditions one can become indifferent to someone else's pain. Now Alexander has almost gotten rid of bruises on his body, but his psyche is shattered. He still looks back all the time, he has visions of police vehicles and dreams about OMON riot police. In the near future, he and his family will leave the country not to live in a dictatorship and constant fear.
Beaten up in the paddy wagon, illegally detained for two days
Alexander went to the first protest action on August 9 together with his comrades. He admits that he had to run from grenades, but this did not stop the guys. They understood that even more people would go out on the streets after the election results were announced on August 10. They gathered with the same group in the evening of the next day near the shopping center "Galereya" in the Nemiga area.
– Me and the guys we did not understand how it happened that OMON riot police began to approach us from both sides. There was nowhere to run – Pobediteley Avenue was blocked by paddy wagons. It became clear: they had an order to take everyone, – Alexander recalls how it all began. – My friend and I were rudely knelt down, passed around with a baton and thrown into the first paddy wagon. A young guy came in after us, they found a firecracker in his backpack. He was beaten right in the paddy wagon by everyone – with hands, feet, and batons.
When five of the detained guys gathered in the car, they were taken somewhere. All this time the detainees had to be on their knees with their heads lowered, hands behind their backs or behind their heads. Nobody was allowed to sit down: if the OMON riot policemen saw through the camera that you had sat down, they began to pound the door with batons and remind that “this is not a restaurant”.
The paddy wagon drove a little and stopped near the Sports Palace. The detainees were thrown out to the fresh air, they were put stretched and searched. Only a few guys, who almost immediately do the split, were not hit with a baton on the ankles. OMON riot policemen tore Alexandr's T–shirt with the coat of arms of the Belarusian People's Republic (BNR) and threw his phone with similarly decorated case far into the bushes. Then there was crossing through the chain of OMON to the second paddy wagon.
– Apparently, every OMON riot policeman considers it his duty and honor to hit you. While I was running to the second paddy wagon, I got hit in the head twice. I still have a slight loss of sensitivity in the upper jaw. Then I decided that I would be silent. There is no one to talk to and nothing to talk about, any words will be used against you. In the second paddy wagon, everything was already kind of foggy. Nobody especially beat us there. The task was to humiliate us as much as possible, suppress the slightest will to resist and disorient us. They managed to do so.
Then again a chain of OMON riot police and a third paddy wagon. This time it was the transport one. Four people were placed there in one booth of one and a half square meters. Alexander, his comrade, an exhausted, beaten skinny guy and an elderly man who just went out to the street out of curiosity, to see what was happening there. All of them were already utterly scared and hardly understood what was happening. They saw no logic in the behavior of the riot police and expected that anything could happen.
– We were sitting in the third paddy wagon and heard the talks on the walkie talkies. The law enforcers were waiting for our paddy wagon to be completely full. It was a hellish stuffiness. There was no air to breathe. We were soaking wet with sweat. And in such an atmosphere for about forty minutes. They brought one guy holding him, he could no longer walk by himself. The supervisor expressed some humanism and said that he did not need a corpse there and sent his subordinates to call an ambulance.
When the car started, I felt for the first time in the evening how wonderful life was – the air conditioner was turned on in the cell and we had a breath of fresh air.
The detainees were brought to Akrestsina Street. When leaving the paddy wagon, they tried to kick each of them so that ideally they would fall. Already at the admission room they were brought to their knees and began to be moved back and forth to make room for the newly arrived. When the detainees handed over all their personal belongings – watches, rings, belts, laces, they were thrown into the so–called "glass". This is an open–air cell of twenty square metres with a grid at the top. In other words a walking yard. 80 people were pushed here.
– I have never in my life been in such a small area with so many highly educated, intelligent people. Among us there were chemists, biologists, journalists, political scientists, historians, linguists. Even one MP was caught, who came from a distant region to see what was happening in Minsk, and then tell everything to his electorate. Nobody took into account his parliamentary immunity when he was taken.
As the detainees understood a little later, the employees of the temporary detention center themselves did not know what would happen to them next. Food and water were not provided for them. Nobody expected such mass detentions.
There was no room in the "glass" to sit down. The detainees who found themselves side by side quickly organized themselves by chance. They decided to stand to the last, as much as they could endure. If a person could no longer stand, then they sat him near the wall to save space.
The detainees were lucky that they did not need the toilet – all the liquid from the body came out with sweat. But after three hours we felt thirsty. Water was given to us in the middle of the night, when police vans massively drove into the temporary detention center and the detentions had ended.
Closer to morning, Alexander, along with other detainees, was taken out of the cramped room into the street, placed along the fence and their data was collected – names, addresses and places of work. This procedure seemed like fun. Everyone was calm – the prison staff, the detainees and the stars.
By the way, the employees of the detention center treated the prisoners in a decent way. They did not beat people up, brought water from time to time, and once they secretly threw a loaf of bread into the "glass". The detainees divided it into 80 equal parts.
– We were joking, maybe it's worth making checkers out of bread, as we don't know how long we will be kept here. The only thing that kept us going was a sense of humor and a sense of support. We discussed the latest movies, got distracted and didn't think about what would happen next. When someone started to panic or lose his inner balance, he would be hugged with the words: "Dear friend, calm down, we will not be killed here, after all, we are in the center of Europe, a rule–of–law state with advanced democracy." We deliberately tried to behave cheerfully not to let those behind the wall understand that we are depressed and demoralized.
One guy from the "glass" turned blue all of a sudden. It had only been a day since he underwent surgery on his stomach. He got into the stream of detainees by accident, returning home from the hospital. The other guy was bleeding from his nose nonstop. And the third one had an epileptic seizure after having some bread. They were taken away, and no one else saw them anymore.
Occasionally, the detainees were taken to the toilet in small groups. It was a thrill for them – they could just sit down there. And there was also water. The employees of the detention center gave the detainees empty bottles so that they could collect water and take it with them to the “glass”.
– Alexander heard how the guys from the neighboring "glass" asked for food and chanted "Freedom!" They were taken outside in batches and beaten. It sounded like someone was using a chop hammer. And screams: "Help", "Save me", "Mommy", "What are you doing".
On the second evening of detention, the entire "glass" of Alexander was transferred to two cells. The cell is a five–star luxury compared to a “glass”. Although the room was designed for six beds, forty prisoners were accommodated there. At the same time, there still was more space than in the "glass", also it was possible to sit on bunks, wash your face, drink water and go to the toilet.
– In the cell, we felt like real people. Someone immediately passed out, someone did not understand what was happening. Probably, we smelled terribly, but we did not feel it. We fell asleep having a comrade's sock close to the head and were happy about it. You could hear screams of someone being beaten from outsides, but you were already so morally dull that you perceived it as a background. A person can get used even to such wilderness.
In the morning all the detainees were taken out of the cell and lined up in one row. An officer dressed in civilian clothes came out to them and began to read out the names.
– This guy was treating us as his own children almost. He said, like, guys, the homeland gave you a chance to improve and no longer participate in such events. He wished us good health and mood. And finally, he asked us to endure a little preventive conversation with the OMON riot police. I walked there as if to Golgotha, as if I was about to be executed. You didn't know what would happen to you in a minute.
This time, the law enforcement officers spoke to the detainees politely. They said that "playing like soldiers is their prerogative." They prepared a little physical exercise for the end and ordered to squat. Then do push–ups and squat again. Alexander was again saved by good physical preparation. But in his mind he wondered every second: when will they start beating? But they didn't beat them again. Without money, laces, belts and protocols, they were sent them home. Alexander, all shaken and beaten, was brought home by the inmate's father.
– Almost every of us was broken. Very few go out to the streets again partisan style. I still look back all the time, I see police cars and OMON riot police in my dreams. I logically understand that officially I wasn't even there, I did not sign any papers, they could do to us everything they wanted, – says Aleksander about his current state.
The young man admits that the first thing he did, when he returned home, was getting drunk. Then for three days in a row he kept doing the same. His bruises healed thanks to the use of special plasters advised by clipping specialists who Akexander knew. Also, he got a free examination at the LODE medical center, and his parents regularly consulted him. They are doctors and fully share the views of their son.
Now the bruises on the body are almost gone. But the psychological state fails to improve. At first, Alexander thought that he could cope without a psychologist, but he is no longer sure of this, he is going to ask for help from a specialist friend.
Five days later, Alexander, together with an acquaintance with whom he served in the army twenty years ago, went to Akrestsina Street to pick up his belongings. It turned out that this comrade–in–arms of his is working as an ordinary employee of the very same detention center where the young man was kept for two days. It became clear only after the arrest.
– My acquaintance, an employee of the temporary detention center on Akrestsina Street, admits that he loves Belarus and Belarusians very much, that he doesn't want anyone to be hurt. And he doesn't leave, because he doesn't want to leave a place to some fascist who will not even hand over water or bread to the detainees. He is doing his best in this whole system. He says that he himself is shocked by what is happening.
After everything he went through, Alexander is sure that in the near future he will leave the country with his family. He refuses to endure the dictatorship regime, to live in constant fear and oppression:
– It is incomprehensible that a person can be kidnapped, tortured, thrown out to the street, and that he still feels guilty and grateful for all this. I can't do that. And I will not be able to do my business here in peace until nothing changes for the better. This wound on the body of Belarus will not heal so quickly.
Beaten up in the paddy wagon, illegally detained for two days