"Feminism Won in My Case." Veronika Stankevich on Helping Political Prisoners in "Volnyja" and Wedding Plans with Ivulin
Prior to 2020, Veronika Stankevich was among apolitical Belarusians, and then things got busy — "Honest People," the National Anti-Crisis Management, and now helping former political prisoners in the "Volnyja" initiative. We spoke with her about money in NGOs, Stryzhak's case, the upcoming wedding with Aliaksandr Ivulin, her theatrical past in Baranavichy, the Faculty of Journalism, and volunteering.
Veronika Stankevich. Photo: Nasha Niva
"I haven't been able to return or simply go home for over five years, and additionally, I'm getting a new criminal case on my shoulders."
Nasha Niva: The "Volnyja" initiative, where you hold the position of coordinator, was recently recognized as an extremist formation. It's not that this is unique for today's times or for you personally, but did you experience any new emotions because of this?
Veronika Stankevich: We understood that we would be recognized as 'extremists' sooner or later (we had already lasted a long time in a more or less neutral status, safe for our beneficiaries). At the same time, everyone around us — human rights defenders, humanitarian initiatives, our partners — are recognized as extremist formations, and some even as terrorist organizations. We work in a sector where any solidarity and assistance become grounds for criminal prosecution. In short, we were ready; we had developed new security protocols.
The country shows that you are unwelcome here — I haven't been able to return or simply go home for over five years, and additionally, I'm getting a new criminal case on my shoulders. It's sad and offensive. But that doesn't mean we should stop our activities.
NN: What has changed for you? Did you start receiving rejections, or perhaps someone immediately stopped cooperating with "Volnyja"?
VS: No, in that regard, nothing globally has changed. There wasn't a sharp reaction, no one left the team. We simply took additional measures to warn volunteers and beneficiaries. Well, and it's important to discuss everything with the team, to conduct an instruction — quite a few of our members were included in a criminal case (but we also had many public representatives).
My personal Instagram was recognized as 'extremist materials' about five months ago. And many acquaintances from Belarus wrote: "I'll have to unsubscribe, it's a great pity." This is a sadder thing because it severs ties with those who remained in the country. The last thread is lost with a person with whom you enjoyed observing each other.
As for volunteer applications or donations, we can't track the dynamics yet; too little time has passed. But I don't think much will change. We don't have an anti-crisis action plan, because this is not a crisis, but a new reality.
Veronika Stankevich. Photo: Nasha Niva
NN: Will you continue to help political prisoners inside Belarus? And if so, how?
VS: This is a very sensitive topic. I will simply say that the issue of security remains our priority.
NN: Sasha Ivulin once joked that in your house, only the dog doesn't have extremist status — have you counted how much of that "good" you have between the two of you?
VS: We haven't specifically counted, but it's probably more than ten. Sasha was recognized as an extremist as an individual, plus his projects and social networks. I also have my pages and other initiatives I used to work in. But we don't consider these statuses official or legal; they don't characterize us as workers or activists, so we don't want to focus on them.
However, we reflect a lot on how this happened, how society found itself at this point where young, active people are massively recognized as 'extremists'. And about how to work with this, how to maintain contacts within the country, how to generally preserve oneself internally as a Belarusian.
Veronika and Sasha's dog named Paddington
NN: How many people are on your team today, and what (or who) do you lack most?
VS: We currently have 12 people working. But this number doesn't say much. What says more is that we cooperate with about 130 volunteer mentors. This is a large community that we painstakingly created. Plus, about 50 volunteers are separately involved in one-off tasks (for example, picking someone up in a car and taking them to the doctor or helping to fill out documents).
In total, 200 people have trusted us and decided that they will help specifically through "Volnyja".
Who is missing? There are always not enough volunteers. When 123 people were released in December, our volunteers were among those who picked them up for meetings, and our mentors worked with a load of 4-5 people per person, although initially we introduced a rule: one volunteer helps one ward. We had to break it so as not to choose: we will help these, but not others.
NN: Why do you do all this personally? Money in NGOs is not that large or stable, and you have rich experience in PR, where finances are better. Moreover, you once wrote yourself: "sometimes you want to quit everything and go live life."
VS: This is an existential question that, to be honest, I ask myself during particularly difficult and stressful moments. But, if we switch to a calmer, more even tone without emotions, I simply like what I do.
My experience in NGOs didn't start with human rights — I worked at the NAU with Pavel Latushka, and then at "Honest People." After trying all this, I realized that helping people is what gives me resources. At the same time, it's important that I don't have a victim mentality, like, "if I don't save everyone, they'll live under a bridge." I feel that I am in my place and that I can still give something to this sector.
It's clear that in business or international organizations, the pay would be two or three times more. But the portion of money I don't earn in an NGO, I consider my volunteer hours, which I am ready to spend here and now to help Belarusians, and at the same time gain valuable experience, acquaintances, and contacts.
Veronika Stankevich. Photo: Nasha Niva
NN: Have you ever thought: what if funding suddenly runs out, what's next?
VS: We've already had cases where we worked for 3-4 months for free. But we always try to understand the risks in advance and mitigate them. None of our employees work full-time. Everyone is employed somewhere else: in business, other NGOs, and projects. This is our rule — so that a person doesn't end up with nothing if we run out of money. Additionally, this protects against burnout. Our topic is complex, and if you're 100% immersed in it, even a psychologist won't help after a year or a year and a half.
If we understand that there will be no money in three months, everyone decides for themselves: to remain a volunteer or to stop cooperation. Then we openly announce to the public that a certain direction of our work is temporarily suspended.
NN: How many months of work do you have funding for today?
VS: Today, we are in a situation of a small crisis, as we can only partially provide salaries for "Volnyja" employees. At the same time, we are constantly looking for additional support not only in the form of grants — businesses, partnerships, donations, and so on.
We will definitely stay afloat for another 5-6 months, and for an NGO, this is a very good indicator.
You can support the activities of "Volnyja" with a donation, if it is safe for you.
NN: Regarding resources. After the exclusion of Bysol from the International Humanitarian Fund (MGF) and the termination of their cooperation with Byhelp — was there no possibility of reallocating funds, including to your benefit?
VS: Here, one needs to understand how it works. Every country has a humanitarian budget, they transfer these funds to the MGF, and then the money is distributed among various organizations, which, in turn, pay it to beneficiaries. The humanitarian fund has almost no administrative resources — meaning we cannot receive salaries from there. This is one of the conditions on which the fund is based. We can only take money from there for payments to specific individuals, if we have the resources to do so and then report on it.
When Byhelp and Bysol left the MGF, "their" money began to be taken by other organizations, including "guest" organizations, which simply submit an application, take the money, distribute it to beneficiaries, and submit a report to the Norwegian Helsinki Committee, but they have no voting rights. In short, after Byhelp and Bysol left, nothing changed for us — it's just that, hypothetically, in one month, 600,000 euros were allocated from the fund for the quarter, and in the next month, 300,000. But guest organizations came and took the same amount for themselves.
If you go to the MGF website and look at the report for the fourth quarter of 2025, you can see that the amount of distributed funds is approximately the same as it was before. Moreover, Bysol is also a guest organization. This means that the previous amount is now effectively divided among a larger number of players and organizations in the sector.
NN: But did the opportunity arise for you, for example, to request a larger volume of assistance for political prisoners?
VS: No, that's not possible. This is precisely one of the MGF's restrictions: we cannot expand existing programs using their money. We must use the funding only for existing programs.
In our case, we cover what other organizations cannot. We act as additional assistance when partners' limits are exhausted. What can we do? Pay for household expenses — for dishes, linen. We can co-pay for medical care, for example, if a person has almost all their teeth fixed under their medical program, but there wasn't enough for three more. And we worked under the same scheme even before joining the MGF.
The only thing we can do is increase the number of beneficiaries, but not the amount of payments to them. The program cannot change in process.
Veronika Stankevich. Photo: Nasha Niva
"No matter how much power you have, you must submit to society's decision."
NN: Since we've already mentioned Bysol, what do you think of Andrei Stryzhak's case and how it ultimately developed?
VS: Here, I will probably speak not as an NGO head and a person from the sector, but as a PR specialist. So, from a PR point of view — this is a bad case for the community. It could have been good right up to the point when the commission decided that Andrei should resign, and he agreed with this decision and indeed left, disappearing from the public eye for at least a while to allow the community to process all this. Then, I think, the exclusion of Bysol from the MGF would not have happened.
And if Andrei had returned after some period in the format of "I understood everything, I'm guilty, but please accept me back," I don't think there would have been many people who would have been radically against it. But the situation where the commission said to leave, but he "changed his mind because he is the boss, and your decision is recommendatory"...
A positive public case for our community, in which we acknowledge our mistakes and resolve them together, did not happen, and that is very sad. No matter how much power you have, you must submit to society's decision.
NN: How many people have "Volnyja" managed to help during its existence?
VS: It's important to understand that our work is not about financial payments. Financial aid is an additional tool that we can use, but our main goal is to help with resocialization and adaptation, wherever a person may be. To date, we have helped more than 500 people (for some, it was a mentorship program, for others — support in the form of consultations, for a third — financial payment).
This is the number we want to name when we talk about statistics because people often focus only on the volume of payments. And then they take that number and divide it by the number of people. But we don't work in socialism; we look at each case individually. So, we have different figures for payments.
Veronika Stankevich. Photo: Nasha Niva
NN: Is there a case that you are personally proud of? Like: "Wow, that's our alumnus!"
VS: Yes, and it's related to my mentee, Dzmitry Anisimau. When we first started our initiative, the whole team took on one mentee each to go through the entire process of assistance with them and see the "inside."
In short, he is a designer, and he always enjoyed creating posters and placards. But in Belarus, this is simply terribly underdeveloped. Everything there must be neat, tidy, with approval from various structures. And of course, he was going through such a professional crisis.
And then 2020 happened, pre-trial detention, prison, he left the country and ended up in Poland. And here they love posters! There's even a Poster Museum in Warsaw.
And of course, it would be better if none of this had happened to him, he wouldn't have experienced political imprisonment, but it turned out that thanks to bad events, he found himself in an environment where he could finally express himself and realize himself as a creator and designer. I am very happy when people manage to pull themselves out of negativity and turn the situation to their advantage.
A few of our mentees have achieved similar successes. Another former prisoner, for example, learned to bake buns in emigration — he does this and enjoys it.
Veronika Stankevich. Photo: Nasha Niva
"Both times I voted for a woman."
NN: Do I understand correctly that before 2020 you were completely apolitical?
VS: That's true, but I always followed the main news and voted — it was important for me to express my civic position in elections. Due to my age, I went to them twice, and both times I voted for a woman: the first time for Tatsiana Karatkevich, the second time for Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya. Feminism won in my case, it turns out.
NN: What changed in 2020 and on what day?
VS: The day I, together with my then-partner, decided that I would go to count votes for "Honest People" in Minsk. That became my starting point.
NN: Things got so busy that you even quit your advertising agency job to be more politically active?
VS: I quit earlier: I think 4-5 months before all the protest activity. I just got really burned out. Advertising had taken its toll on me: I worked not only in Belarus but also lived in Kazakhstan for two years for work, then in Ukraine. I had the opportunity to ground myself for 3-4 months and do nothing, taking only some one-off projects. This all coincided with the elections, which is why I had the chance to dedicate myself to volunteering.
Initially, I volunteered with "Honest People." Then I joined the PR service of the National Anti-Crisis Management (NAU). But soon after, a criminal case was opened against Pavel Latushka, and it was clear that the rest of the team was next in line. Especially since we weren't hiding or anonymizing ourselves then. So we faced a choice: either end cooperation with NAU or leave and continue in exile. That's how, in December 2020, we had to leave Belarus. True, we were leaving "only for three months," and now it's been the fifth year in Warsaw.
Veronika Stankevich. Photo: Nasha Niva
"My family maintains neutrality."
NN: Given your increased "extremist" status, are your relations with relatives all right?
VS: There were no political divisions in my family. Rather, they simply maintain neutrality.
NN: Your parents are engineers, but you chose the Faculty of Journalism, why?
VS: My mother, by the way, always wanted me to become an English teacher (today, I think that would probably be more helpful).
Why did I go to the Faculty of Journalism? I had a very good relationship with my Russian language and literature teacher; I was good at essays, and the Faculty of Journalism was her idea — for me to consider that path. Initially, I thought about theater and film directing — I did folk dancing, and throughout my youth, I acted in an amateur theater in Baranavichy.
Even after I entered BSU, I would travel there for rehearsals and performances (the theater was very popular). It largely shaped me as a person, helped me open up and be less shy, and strive for more. But my mother was completely unenthusiastic about film and theater plans, while with the Faculty of Journalism, I had their support. I enrolled in the "Radio and Television" specialty.
NN: You could be doing reports on ONT now...
VS: That's true (smiles). The main thing the Faculty of Journalism gave me was community; all my closest friends are almost all from the Faculty of Journalism. But professionally, already in my second year, I realized that I didn't really want to be a journalist. I did an internship at ONT, then at a regional TV channel in Hrodna, and realized that it just wasn't my vibe at all.
Back then, they still played at democracy, but there were always hints of "let's not talk about this, and don't write about that." In my third year, I was already studying part-time and went to work in advertising. I didn't have to worry about job placement since I was a paying student.
Veronika Stankevich. Photo: Nasha Niva
"When we were deciding whether to become a couple, we were very worried."
NN: Not long ago, Sasha Ivulin proposed to you, even though you've been close friends for 12 years. One might think that your relationship had been brewing for a long time, but something constantly didn't work out. You went through marriage, divorce, and another serious relationship, and everything got serious only after Sasha's release from prison, in emigration.
VS: We really were just friends all the time. And if you look, we have very warm relationships with all our friends. It was the same with Sasha. And we met him during student union activities when I was already in a relationship with the guy I later married.
NN: Did either of you have to hide something more than friendship from the other?
VS: Sasha says that maybe something like that existed before, but in my opinion, he's exaggerating. Everything happened when it was supposed to. Because, honestly, before 2020, Sasha's imprisonment, before all the events connected to us, we were completely different people. And there's no guarantee we would have gotten together.
When we were deciding whether to become a couple, we were very worried because we have a shared community, and if something went wrong, it would affect everyone. So we were making a decision not just for ourselves, but also for those around us. In emigration, your own people are worth their weight in gold.
NN: Sasha proposed in the format of a scientific presentation — did you immediately guess what he was leading up to?
VS: At first, probably not. It was our anniversary celebration — three years since we started dating, and I thought he wanted to give me some surprise, although we had agreed not to exchange gifts.
But towards the end, I began to realize that something strange was happening, because I saw how much Sasha was nervous. And he is not the type of person who gets nervous during public speeches.
NN: What's it like, generally, to date a man who became Belarus's sexiest man of 2022 and to whom 9 out of 10 letters in pre-trial detention came from girls? Is there cause for jealousy?
VS: I am very calm in this regard. I trust people, especially my close ones. And I know Sasha well (which, by the way, is a bonus of a long friendship) — he is even more principled than I am. He has his own defined boundaries that he clearly establishes.
Veronika Stankevich. Photo: Nasha Niva
NN: Is a lavish wedding expected?
VS: Definitely not. After all, we are two NGO workers in emigration; we don't have such financial opportunities. So there will be no castles or swimming pools; no propaganda story will come out of it. But we will definitely celebrate the wedding; there aren't many good reasons to gather loved ones in one place.
It will definitely be next year so that we have time to resolve the bureaucratic complexities for getting married in Poland. And it will be in a close circle of our dearest ones. Many people have already asked us about "when the wedding is." Including Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya (smiles).
-
A memorial sign resembling a tombstone in Nesvizh shone with a new gleam
-
Two blokes on Savetskaya in Brest in red-green caps sang along to the song "Zhukovs". And carelessly posted it on Threads
-
It became known under which article a resident of Svetlahorsk, detained upon returning to Belarus, was sentenced
Now reading
Do you remember Daniil from Tsikhanouskaya's Office, for whom money was collected for an oncological operation in two days? The same classmate who hit him wrote to him — from which it all began 44
Comments
А чаго дабіваюцца Лукашысты?
[Зрэдагавана]
В Беларуси нет политзаключенных. Все заключенные- уголовники. И в какую цивилизацию они хотят вернуть Беларусь? В цивилизацию Эпштейна? Не, мы чистые, благоразумные люди. Нам не нужен бандитизм и наркоманы на улицах- мы за порядок.