«After New Year, we might find ourselves on the street». We visited a shelter that provides a roof over the heads of political prisoners forced to leave Belarus
The shelter in Warsaw on Bałotna Street, which opened here in 2022 and initially helped women refugees with children from Belarus and Ukraine, today provides refuge to Belarusian volunteers and political prisoners forced to leave their homeland. The three-story house, whose walls have heard many tears and terrible stories over three years, is called Teremok here, and Hanna Fiedaronak is responsible for its operations. The 54-year-old woman used to live near Pastavy — in the village of Varapayeva — in a large house with her husband and two daughters. And then came a scenario familiar to many: collecting signatures, an attempt to defend their votes, double emigration, and a bouquet of criminal cases from her homeland.
We visited Teremok and learned who lives there today and how. Spoiler: after the New Year, all its residents might find themselves on the street.
«Before, we could accommodate all repressed people, but now only political prisoners, because the demand is high»
In the morning, the shelter has the slow vibe of a large, multi-generational family — the collection of shoes of all sizes at the entrance immediately confirms the first impression. Some have long woken up and left for household errands, others are taking a shower, some are cleaning their rooms, making tea in the kitchen, or still enjoying their sleep.
In the kitchen. Photo: Nasha Niva
At the entrance to the shelter. Photo: Nasha Niva
Today, 16 people live here, plus a guinea pig named Peppe, belonging to one of the boys. These are mainly male political prisoners, as well as several women with children.
«This year alone, in cooperation with "BaiHelp", we have already helped 137 Belarusians. This is real help — "BaiSol" helps them leave, and we accommodate them. Even if a person has just left and we don't know when they will reach us, we hold a place for them so they can count on us immediately,» says Hanna, adding that a new batch of people is waiting for accommodation in Belarus, but places don't always free up quickly.
Head of the shelter Hanna Fiedaronak. Photo: Nasha Niva
The shelter can comfortably accommodate 20 people simultaneously. They can stay here for two months to resolve legalization issues, find work, and a permanent place of residence.
«Before, we could accommodate all repressed people, but now only political prisoners, because the demand is high,» Hanna continues, bringing us up to date.
One small room on the first floor, where, as they joke here, the next bunks stand, is deliberately empty.
«We decided not to permanently occupy it. It's in demand by those who come for a short stay, just to spend the night: for example, Belarusian fighters who have returned from the war — while they legalize themselves and find work in Poland, they live with us. And we also accommodate the families of fighters. By the way, I only know their call signs, I don't ask for any personal data — those are their conditions.
When the shelter was only available for mothers with children, I provided shelter to Belarusian volunteers here at my own risk.»
Room for short-term stay. Photo: Nasha Niva
The residents of Teremok gradually gather in the kitchen. One of them is Andrej Salapura, who left Belarus just a week ago, having served a year and a half under the "people's" Article 342 for the August 2020 protests in Brest after the elections.
Andrej Salapura. Photo: Nasha Niva.
«I served my full sentence, I wasn't under supervision — just had to report to the police weekly. But I still left because I felt constant fear. After being ground through the system at the snap of a finger, I didn't want to live in a state of eternal uncertainty and helplessness anymore, with the risk that tomorrow someone would again decide that, hypothetically, "we have a new referendum, let's preventively lock up 'dangerous' people".»
Freedom as such no longer exists for us in Belarus. It might also be difficult abroad, but at least I no longer feel the sword of Damocles hanging over my head.»
Andrej is a foreign language teacher who worked in an IT company before his arrest. In the Mahilioŭ colony, he met Aliaksei Halavko, sentenced to 12 years in a case against anarchist activists from the Brest region.
«There was a situation where he was wished a happy birthday at the Brest "Viasna" — and for that, he was immediately given 10 days in the punishment cell (SHIZA). In principle, it's a tradition there that you get a ten-day sentence as a "gift" upon arrival. I didn't end up in SHIZA again — I have military school experience, and I understand how to behave in all such institutions. But it's clear that they scrutinize the actions of "extremists" there.»
Andrej Salapura. Photo: Nasha Niva.
Andrej was offered to write a petition for pardon, but it was a month before his release, and he saw no point in such a "gift."
«Here I live in a room with two other guys — we all get along. People who go through such a path, in my opinion, take things easier afterward. From Belarus, I brought with me the confidence that any problem can be solved and overcome. After everything I've been through, you look at many things more simply.»
Hanna adds that in three years at the shelter, they only had three major conflicts. One of the latest was with political prisoner-blogger Jury Chudzinovich, who, according to the head, showed no signs of discontent while living in the shelter, but later compared the conditions here to a solitary cell in Žodzina — the latter, in his opinion, being better.
«In such situations, I'm not even offended for myself. I'm offended for the people who help us — they look for money for us, send pillows and blankets from Italy. And then someone says "worse than in Žodzina prison." But I'm grateful to the people who write good comments. The teacher Tatsiana Krapinevich lived with us and to this day says how cozy and family-like it was here. In general, we are in contact with almost all former residents — and you wouldn't believe how nice it is to receive a large number of greetings from them on holidays,» the mistress of Teremok comments emotionally.
Hanna herself, after the conflict was brought into the social media space, also received criticism for publishing shelter residents' data. But she believes that in this situation she didn't expose anyone — Jury Chudzinovich is a blogger who already works publicly. «And his name and surname are already known to everyone.»
«Our men cry, and that's good, it makes them feel better»
TVs, refrigerators, clothes, linen, sofas and beds, essential items were brought here by various Belarusians and other kind people in response to calls. Food is delivered from a Protestant Ukrainian church and the "Da Voli" organization. Many boxes of humanitarian aid — clothes, toys — are hidden in the garage. Recent packages of items arrived for Antanina Kanavalava's family.
«Now one of our washing machines has broken, it would be good if someone could help with it,» Hanna complains.
Purchases for the shelter. Photo from the heroine's personal archive.
She herself is involved in shelter matters 24/7.
«On weekends I don't come, but I'm always in touch, at any time. I usually dedicate a whole day to newcomers — everything needs to be shown, explained about legalization. Plus, another two hours to listen, because the first thing a person released from prison needs is to talk. I've almost become a psychologist here. When we had mothers with children from Ukraine, it was even harder — hours of tears, stories about bombings… And our men also cry, and that's good, it makes them feel better.»
Hanna receives a salary for her work of accommodating and evicting people, finding funding and preparing reports, maintaining current items, and purchasing new ones (Hanna did not want to specify the amount, saying it was small).
«That's why I go to clean offices and apartments additionally on Wednesdays (thanks to this part-time job, I at least got insurance, plus an extra 228 euros is not superfluous). And generally, my husband is a long-distance truck driver, and if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have worked here for a long time, no matter how much I liked it, I say honestly. Because then I wouldn't be able to rent housing for myself and my youngest daughter.
It's good that the older one has already found a job and rents a three-room apartment with her children herself. She is a swimming coach, works with children with autism and Down syndrome, and has her own client base. I've lived in rooms enough myself — in Kyiv, there were six of us in one room at one point, then we rented our own room for a long time, but in that apartment, there were 10 people for one toilet. And when we finally rented our own, albeit small, apartment, I sat on the toilet, and it was such happiness that it was now only ours! (smiles)»
Photo: Nasha Niva
«We might find ourselves on the street — with all these sofas, refrigerators, furniture»
Now Hanna is more concerned not about her family's financial situation, but about the future of the shelter.
«We pay almost three thousand euros a month to the Pole for the rent of this house, another thousand goes to utilities, because many people live here. Previously, these expenses were covered by donors from Italy (and we found out that their funding was ending only 10 days before it actually did). And today's donor is working with us only until the New Year, after that — it's unknown. We might find ourselves on the street — with all these sofas, refrigerators, furniture, which formally belongs to me. At the same time, the need to help people doesn't disappear, and if Lukashenka starts releasing new political prisoners, it will only increase.
Therefore, we are already trying to do something — we wrote a letter with Pavel Latushka to the Special Representative of the Polish Ministry of Foreign Affairs Adam Halaciński — he promised to promote our problem. We want to invite him to our house, among other things, so that he can see the people here with his own eyes and talk to them.»
The shelter's address is known to many people. The new owner will soon want to install cameras on the territory. But without them, does Hanna not worry about safety — her own and that of her charges?
«We have a closed territory here. Everyone has their own key. It is forbidden to bring strangers (if friends or relatives want to visit, I must always know about it in advance, without permission it is not allowed). I myself have been through so much — I received many SMS messages saying "we know where you work." The most difficult messages were about them supposedly knowing which school my youngest daughter attends.
My niece in Belarus was taken three times, my mother's home was searched. They tried to break me, but, as I say, we'll see who wins. I intentionally don't communicate with relatives, but not out of resentment from either side, I simply don't want to compromise them.»
«It's easier to hire a murderer than you»
Hanna also helps the children of repressed Belarusians get into schools and kindergartens — she says the principals of nearby institutions already know her and greet her with a welcoming "Pani Anna!". Through her contacts, she also helps them find work in cleaning or construction, so that emigrants can save some money in two months and use it to rent their own corner in the future.
So, one of the shelter residents, Kirył (name changed at the hero's request — NN), is now planning to go into construction. He left Belarus about three months ago, having previously served more than three years under two articles of the Criminal Code — 342 (participation in protests) and 339 (hooliganism).
«After I got out of the colony, I stayed in Belarus for a couple more months. It was difficult to find a job: when I wanted to work in a state institution, they told me it was easier for them to hire a murderer than me. I managed to get a job with a private employer afterward, but decided to leave: I understood that I could be detained again, as it's possible to do so without proof.
I couldn't even write in chats on certain topics, because my phone was constantly checked. After my release, I was forced to constantly go through censorship — is that a life? It was impossible for me to live in such an atmosphere. It might be harder in emigration, but I'll be able to breathe easier.»
Photo: Nasha Niva
The man was in the punishment cell (SHIZA) twice.
«The first time was when, in the Shkloŭ colony, political prisoners were suddenly forbidden to visit the library. I told my parents about this during phone calls, understanding what the consequences might be, but I couldn't do otherwise. And the day after the call, I was immediately sent to SHIZA, moreover with serious violations — without an act, without the procedure of writing explanations and reviewing all this by the colony head. But the staff explained that these four days in SHIZA were supposedly because I didn't greet someone.»
The second time Kirył received SHIZA was for refusing to write a pardon application.
«Prosecutors started coming en masse — I was also summoned, but I had about five months left to serve, so I refused to sign anything. After my refusal, I was sent to SHIZA for five days. I wasn't the only one — at least three people refused to sign. One of them was held in SHIZA for a month and a half for this, until the very end of his term.»
Kirył also worked in construction in Belarus, so he says he has experience.
«Of course, I have plans to realize myself in artistic endeavors, as I draw quite well, but I need to earn money, so for now I will go back to construction,» the man smiles. «I received a temporary document. I found a room and soon plan, if nothing breaks, to live there.»
The Italian Ambassador to Poland visiting the shelter. Photo from the heroine's personal archive.
Kirył's neighbor joins the conversation. He has been at the shelter for exactly one week. The man worked in IT in Belarus and plans to return to the profession — which is why he chose Poland for his new life: «A large community from Belarus and Ukraine has moved here, there are more chances to advance professionally here.»
In the Babruysk colony, where he served his sentence under Article 293 of the Criminal Code ("mass riots"), he also spent time in SHIZA, totaling 70 days — «sometimes I didn't shave, sometimes the contents of my bags supposedly didn't match the recorded list of items. But in reality, these SHIZAs drive you to severely censor yourself, and you have to reach that point on your own.»
The man shares one of the recent joys of freedom — he sailed on a yacht. And he says that his prison experience only strengthened him.
«To fall into serious psychological problems, you need to start indulging in deep self-pity, but if you don't, you don't treat years in captivity as lost — and who said what kind of experience you must have in life, why should everything be smooth for us?» asks the interlocutor.
«It would be ideal for Siarhei Tsikhanouski to take a break, to collect himself»
In the shelter, all conversations, one way or another, eventually revolve around the topic of home. Lost, destroyed, temporary, the search for a new one. Hanna Fiedaronak's home is now sealed. Electricity has been cut off there, gas disconnected.
«I understand that an in absentia trial is currently underway, because there was a criminal case for which I left, plus there are criminal cases for actions for which I created posters like "Vote, don't vote, you'll still get… (and there Lukashenka in the shape of a dick)." And our channel "Lukasholki" is an extremist formation.
Additionally, I joined Aliaksandr Azarau in the Coordination Council, and then that mailing happened for those subscribed to the "Peramoha" plan with calls to vote for him. Almost the entire team was completely unaware of it. I was just torn apart, so I left before the elections to the CC. Despite this, I was still implicated in Belarus in the "Peramoha" plan, and my niece was detained a second time and forced to say on video that I had agitated her to subscribe to this "plan."
Hanna recently managed to meet and talk with Siarhei Tsikhanouski. Her path to criminal cases began with joining his team and collecting signatures in support of Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya.
«What to say about Siarhei? He came from ship to ball. Ripped from 2020 into 2025 from solitary confinement. He wants to talk. When a person has been silent for five years, it's understandable. He certainly didn't fully grasp the situation before making his statements, made many mistakes. It would be ideal to take a break, collect himself. But I personally forgive him everything, because I understand how much the man has been through — and then he went headlong with his enthusiasm, and now continues to do the same.»
If Hanna used to dream of returning to her large house in Varapayeva — with a spacious bathhouse and a separate room for bath procedures — now she says that nostalgic feelings have been cut off.
«When they cut off both my electricity and gas and showed it in Ihar Tur's report, something inside me broke. Before that, I sometimes cried, remembering where this or that plate was, where the cup was… But now it's somehow easier, the threads are finally cut. And even if I were to return, it wouldn't be to Varapayeva: I couldn't live with those "yabatskas" who support both Lukashenka and Putin there. By the way, nine people in our village were imprisoned for 72 hours for a "like" on Odnoklassniki on my photo with my daughter, when my page was recognized as extremist. And among them was one "yabatska",» shares the head of the shelter.
Hanna draws strength from her humorous project "Lukasholki". Her character, Baba Halya, since 2021, has appeared in Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya's video address, starred in a music video by Jury Stylski, she and her partner were invited to host a segment on Stsyapan Putyla's channel, soon they might return to "Belsat", and just recently "Lukasholki" made it to the pages of the New York Times.
«I studied at the Institute of Culture in the directing faculty — I got in on the second attempt with a competition of 13 people for one spot. I was always on our stage at the House of Culture, either as Baba Yaga or Karlsson. I worked as an individual entrepreneur, but the stage is my soul's calling. Unfortunately, my first husband turned out to be an abuser who forbade me from performing. And here, this childhood dream came true.
And it helps me live, to get through all the difficulties. Sometimes I don't sleep at night, ideas pop into my head, and the next day the script for a new episode is already ready.»
Hanna's main dream remains a dream of a new home, but not for herself, but for political prisoners.
«This house is good, but there are few places here, unfortunately, even if you fill everything with cots overnight. It would be ideal to get an abandoned building from the city for five years; we would do the repairs ourselves, pay for utilities, but we wouldn't have to look for three thousand euros for rent every month. In short, my dream is to celebrate the New Year in a new space where everyone would find a place.»
In the garage, where essential items are stored — clothes, food, hygiene products. Photo: Nasha Niva
You can help political prisoners continue to receive their first free overnight stay after emigration here:
You can make a one-time payment via this link, and via this one — subscribe for a monthly payment.
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