I REALIZED IMMEDIATELY THAT I WOULDN'T BE HOME SOON

When the doorbell rang, I was washing dishes. It was just a usual morning, around 10 o'clock. The news on TV was reporting about mass arrests in the “Cascade” residential complex. And for some reason, I immediately understood that it weren’t my neighbours ringing, not someone familiar... I silently approached the door, looked through the peephole, and saw that they had come for me. As they continued to ring the bell insistently and then knock on the door, I contacted my parents and a colleague to let them know about the impending arrest. Subsequently, I drafted a power of attorney for my parents to take custody of my daughter, and only then I finally opened the door. The search began in the apartment.

As they searched through the apartment, I experienced a sense of profound chill. Fear gave way to calmness, and I realized that it was already happening and I couldn't change anything. I somehow immediately understood that I wouldn't be back home soon, although they said, "We're just going to have a chat", so I put on three sets of underwear, socks, and shirts, along with two pairs of pants as a precaution. Later, I was relieved that my intuition had proven right, and the extra clothing proved useful.

This calmness stayed with me afterwards, during the conversations with them, allowing me not to say anything unnecessary, not to mention anyone’s name. My life underwent a sudden change, and I had to adapt to new circumstances while striving to maintain my sense of self.

I recall my time at Amerikanka (a pre-trial prison in the centre of Minsk, operated by the KGB) where I was struck by the profound silence. Silence pervaded everywhere. We even whispered in the cell so that no one would hear us. Sometimes this silence was disturbed by the convoy themselves when they escorted us for interrogation to another building, exchanging whistles among them. Such a whistle was a warning sign that prisoners were being led so that we wouldn't cross paths.

But still, despite my ability not to panic, one place made a terrible impression on me and remained in my memory forever. It was in the KGB pre-trial detention centre, when they first brought me there, and put me in a room without any windows and doors. The room was lined with soft artificial leather, the entrance to it was at an angle downwards along a red carpet. Apparently, this room is used for pressuring the detainee — morally and physically. And, to be honest, this room left a very strong impression on me. Nothing bad happened to me there, but the nasty feelings remained.

NOT TO HOPE, BUT TO ACCEPT AS A FACT — IT'S JUST A BAD SANATORIUM‍

During my imprisonment, I made a vow to myself — not to lose heart. After all, if you start to lose heart, you can fall into depression, and then it will be impossible to get out of it. It is necessary to always see the positive side. Yes, even being in Volodarka (pre-trial detention prison in Minsk) or in the colony, I tried to see something good. So, when I ended up in Volodarka after the KGB pre-trial detention centre, I saw that the toilet in the cell was separated by a wall, unlike before when there were no barriers with the toilet being right in front of the peephole and the surveillance camera. I remember looking around the cell and seeing that among my cellmates there were people with beautiful faces, not just burdened with criminal history. That was also a positive moment. The cell was larger, and you could smoke in it. I'm a smoker, and cigarettes, especially in such conditions, were very calming. We established a rule to smoke every two hours so that those who didn't smoke wouldn't be in endless smoky conditions.

Of course, I saw girls who were struggling and could break down because of all this. Usually, I would tell them, "You're lucky. You ended up in a normal cell, they won't mistreat you here." I showed to them the abundance of positivity available right here and now, because there is no other reality, and you need to find positive moments despite all the bad things. In our Volodarka cell, there were, for example, plastic bottles. A plastic bottle is a universal thing.If you have it in the cell — it’s great! If everyone in the cell has their own bottle — it’s even better! And if there are some spare bottles — then it's pure happiness!

A plastic bottle is a universal thing: it’s a means for washing, it's a body warmer, it's a refrigerator, it's a clothes dryer. Socks on a bottle filled with hot water could dry in twenty minutes! There were many bottles in our cell, and that was already a reason to be happy.

Another way not to despair is to accept your situation. By accepting this life situation as it is, it becomes easier. You can build your life. My cellmates and I decided that this was just a bad sanatorium for us, and we needed to spend some time here. Everyone filled their everyday life in their own way. Some were distracted by reading books. Some by conversations, games, walks. We sang (we were allowed to sing loudly in the cell), and singing really helps to get rid of negativity, to cleanse both the mind and the soul. Our repertoire was quite diverse: folk songs, songs from movies, and criminal songs. We were taught criminal songs by a girl who was convicted under an article related to the trafficking of drugs.

In the colony, the conditions were a little different, there you are constantly on the move, constantly running somewhere. And it’s possible to find something positive even there: movement is life, although, of course, you experience much more tension there. But even with such a hectic schedule, I found like-minded people there, with whom we became friends. It was great luck to meet my person there. And if I hadn't been at the centre of this hurricane, I would never have met so many wonderful people!

Another positive moment I noticed was that for a long time I received letters from different people, not just from relatives. However, since February 2022, letters only came from close ones. It was so nice to receive postcards from my daughter. And how many people convicted on political charges didn't receive letters...

My daughter also coped with the separation, and believed that mom was a hero. What my daughter inherited from me is my optimism and fighting spirit. Masha just waited for me to come back.

ALL THAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH BECAME VALUABLE EXPERIENCE FOR ME

Having lived through these two and a half years in confinement, I gained a lot of new and important insights for myself. I discovered things about myself that I had never suspected before, for example, I started drawing portraits, even though I had never drawn before and thought I couldn't. I suddenly realized that I have a good understanding of people. And in confinement, it's crucial not to make mistakes about people, whom to trust and whom not to. I convinced myself that I could trust myself in this regard; I didn't make a single mistake.

It also became a test of how well I can survive in extreme conditions while keeping my sanity. People rarely encounter such extreme conditions in life to test themselves. Thanks to this experience, I learned that I can hold on, and that pleased me.

I understood that I'm lucky. My sentence turned out not to be so huge. I didn't face harsh pressure from colony staff and pre-trial detention centres.

I think this happened because I made a vow to myself not to harbor hatred towards anyone. Initially, not to draw negative conclusions about them. They treated me well. It's important to say that there are different people in the system. Not everyone is bad. Although, of course, there are those who commit all this horror, and they don't deserve any kind word. But I believe it's important not to transmit negativity from the start. Share a smile, and it will come back to you, like in that children's song.

There's a story that shows there are people in the system who care about us, and if they can, they try to do something good. My daughter's birthday is on July 15th. I applied for a long visit with her on July 14th, so we could spend a day together. The response came from the administrator that the visit would still be on July 7th. Well, what can you do with that, I thought. A couple of days later, she notified me of another date change — this time to July 12th. Then, a couple of days later, she again said that the date had been finally changed, and it would happen on July 5th. And then I went to sign the papers for the visit, I looked, and the date was indicated as July 14th! All this was done by one person who understood my situation and still set such an important date for me and my daughter. So, we spent her birthday together. It was a great joy to hug Masha.

A NEW LIFE AND NEW OPPORTUNITIES

The moment I left Belarus, I gained freedom. After my release, I spent a year in Belarus, but morally, I was very tired. I even felt physically unwell because I lived there in a constant atmosphere of fear. I realized that I couldn't take it anymore and left. Moreover, I wanted my daughter to have a future. Now I don't see any prerequisites for happy changes in Belarus. We don't know how life will turn out, but objectively in Europe, my daughter has a chance for a beautiful and happy life. Of course, I miss home, I miss my dacha (seasonal or year-round second home, often located in the exurbs) — my place of strength, that's where I went right after leaving the colony. But I decided to leave, and now a new life awaits me. And in this new life, something else, no less interesting, awaits me. For example, travelling - there are many places I haven't been to, and I really want to show this world to my daughter, and now I have this opportunity. That's what life is all about — every new day will bring something new and interesting.

The main thing I took away after two and a half years of confinement: I stopped attaching importance to minor mishaps: if something doesn't work out as I wanted it to work, well, okay, it'll work out next time. I'm healthy, I have a clear mind — everything will be fine. It’s only us who define our state of mind.