«I believe that security forces can act differently». Nasta Loika spoke about her imprisonment, GUBOP, and Stockholm syndrome
Human rights activist Nasta Loika is one of 250 Belarusian political prisoners released after the latest visit of U.S. presidential envoy John Cole in mid-March. She was among 15 people immediately expelled abroad. In her first major interview, she told the publication «Zerkalo» why she doesn't want to talk about torture behind bars, why she believes that GUBOP and the Belarusian authorities can change, and yet does not consider her position a manifestation of Stockholm syndrome.

Nasta Loika after release. Warsaw, 2026. Photo: Iryna Arakhouskaya
— Before the interview, at your request, we pre-discussed questions for the conversation. We wanted to know about the conditions of your detention, torture with tasers and cold, your attitude towards security forces in the colony, the pre-trial detention center, judges, and so on. But you refused to talk about it. Why?
— About the pre-trial detention center, GUBOP, tasers – I'm not ready to talk about all of that because I don't see much point in it. It's unlikely to change anything fundamentally, but it might create several negative moments.
Firstly, many people remain behind bars who are dear to me and whom I don't want to harm. And secondly, for example, the GUBOP officers and I got into a certain conflict spiral, and I would like to stop it. Because it [even before detention, during human rights activities] looked like this: they push me – I try to react somehow (for example, publish something) – they don't like it – they push again – I publish again, write complaints. In short, it was an endless escalation. And I feel the resources and strength within myself to say "no, stop," I kind of let go. Yes, you can do unpleasant things [to me] there, that's your business. Time will tell, but right now I don't want to mention it at all, I want to live on and not dwell on painful memories.
And I really don't want to become an eternal victim. In communication with others, I call it (being behind bars. — «Zerkalo») a "journey," a new experience, "active monitoring." Exclusively so. Even these words help me not to be traumatized. We ourselves decide whether or not to be traumatized by something. This approach minimizes all consequences.
«John Cole! Girls, where's my powder, where's my powder?» We all start laughing, joking»
— How did the release process go for you? Did you know in advance that you would be included in the list?
— I'll probably start from afar. Behind bars, I felt a very "special attitude" towards myself and therefore was sure that I would not be released soon. GUBOP officers quite often came to the colony to talk to some people, including about their release. And when they asked about me: "What about Nasta?", they replied: "Nasta will only be released if Trump personally asks for it." And I thought: "Okay, then, I don't need to rush, I'm ready, I'll sit, wait, release others – no problem."
When I was still in the PKT (Punishment Cell Type), my mother sent a letter saying that 123 people had been released – Bialiatski, Kalesnikava, Fiaduta, people like that. And I wrote to my mother: "Mom, of course, it's all joyful and cool that people are getting out, but let's be rational – it's only one-eighth. While it's my turn, let's gather our strength." And my mother is 78 years old, it's not easy for her. I tried a little to temper her euphoria, that we need to wait, be patient. And I also reassured myself that it wouldn't be so fast.
A month later, I was released from the PKT. And in the colony, everyone was so optimistic: "We're about to be released, negotiations have begun, a new round should be scheduled now." Everyone there was euphoric. And I rationally told them: "Go ahead, go ahead, I'll wait. I understand that the process will be in several stages, it will drag on, and I'm clearly not in the next batches. But I'll be super happy for you." Every release truly made me very happy. It always gave me strength. So the fact that Marfa [Rapkova] and I were suddenly released together – that was, of course, unexpected.
— How did you find out you would be released?
— The day before my release, I was called to the colony's headquarters, and they had a very strange conversation with me. I was like: "Well, maybe this is it, maybe not." It was unclear. And then... They never told us anything directly.
— What did you talk about at the headquarters?
— The conversation was something like: "What do you plan after your release? And maybe you want to stay in touch with us? How are you doing in the detachment?" Such conversations are called "about nothing," because all of this has already been discussed a million times. The only thing that caught my attention was when they said: "I will call you tomorrow." I was like: "Why? What didn't we finish talking about?" He said: "Well, it's necessary, that's all, I'll call you tomorrow, goodbye." And so I walked out of the headquarters, thinking: "Okay, something is happening." 10 minutes before that, I was talking to one of the prisoners. And she said: "We're waiting, tomorrow some 'movement' will begin." We definitely knew that the negotiations were on the 19th-20th [of March]; we had already leaked the information through a meeting [with relatives].
And then we got information that Marfa and I were removed from the factory (work at the colony's enterprise. — «Zerkalo»). And the factory is sacred. If you don't go there, it means you're not going anywhere. Moreover, [we did go to production —] I had the first shift, and I was already being searched, already frisked [for admission to work]. And then an officer appeared and said "Let's go." And we went. But nobody told us in words what was happening to us or where we were being taken.
They didn't give us a passport, just a certificate of identity. With a photo that was taken for my passport [in the colony] in Gomel, because that's where I had it done. The only thing was, when we were leaving the colony, they just gave us a form to sign for a dry ration. It was all processed as a transfer, and the destination written there was the KGB pre-trial detention center. And I told Marfa Rabkova, who was with me: "Damn, I don't want to go to the 'American' to Katya Andreeva." We already knew she was there – she had been taken out of Gomel a month [before the release], because negotiations were planned earlier but had been postponed.
Then we arrived in Minsk, and instead of going to the city center to the "American," the car suddenly turned onto the ring road – and we arrived in Kaliadzichy. We stayed there overnight, and the next day we were taken to the border. And again, no one told us anything anywhere. Well, we're grown-up girls, we know and understand everything, so we didn't ask anything.
— They didn't put bags over your heads, like with previous political prisoners during their release?
— No. And this is about "growth points," about the belief that they can act differently. I think there was certain criticism of their past removals. And we were already traveling super well. Marfa and I were sitting. They told us: "Sorry, we don't want to, but we have to," – and they handcuffed us so loosely that Marfa, I think, could even pull her hand out and remove her hood. And I could ask at any moment – and they would remove them for me. They gave us water, treated us to sweets, marshmallows, tea – they even found some vegan bars for me.
And while on the way from Gomel to Minsk, in the bus, they asked us not to talk, when we were driving from Minsk to the border, they no longer forbade it. And so, in that minivan, we talked the whole way: with the guys who were already traveling with us, and with Katya Andreeva as well, and with everyone. We had some kind of VIP corridor.
We stood in the forest near the border for two hours, then drove out onto the highway to the checkpoint. And then cars with red license plates overtook and cut in front of us. I saw them, and said: "Yes, some diplomatic cars." And everyone was like: "John Cole! Girls, where's my powder, where's my powder?" We all started laughing, joking. This was already the feeling that we were free.
At the Belarusian border, we were driven right past all the queues and checkpoints. There's also an unnamed path to the right, and we nicely drove along it to the Duty Free before the Lithuanian checkpoint. Some guys with cameras were already running around there. John Cole came into our minivan and said: "You are free" ("Вы свабодныя"). He said, your bus is in front of you, go ahead. From this point, the most pleasant part began, where we could see everyone, hug them, and finally feel free.

Group of released political prisoners, including Nasta Loika (second from the right of Special Envoy John Cole, who is standing in the center of the frame), at the checkpoint on the Lithuanian border, March 19, 2026. Photo: John Cole's X account
— What did the Americans tell you? Were you able to talk to them?
— Yes, in principle, there was an opportunity. John Cole gave a short speech at the border. He said that a total of 250 people would be released today or tomorrow. And that was the most joyful thing for us. And someone had lists on their phone. We started flipping through them – finding some people, not others.
Many people were released who were imprisoned for sending us parcels and transfers. It was incredibly painful for me to see these people every day, sitting just for transferring five rubles to you. It hurt immensely. So, when I saw these people on the lists, I was extremely happy. I'm in touch with some of them. It's a pity they went through such an ordeal, and it's good that they are now with their loved ones, free.
— Who was the first person you called from abroad? Your mom?
— There was a representative of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Lithuania. And she called Ales Bialiatski and said that Marfa and I were sitting next to Valiak Stefanovich. Valiak said a few words to Ales, and we practically snatched the phone from him and said: "Ales, hello!" And so the first person I talked to then was Ales Bialiatski. I called my mother later, in the evening. And she was already aware, she had already been informed.
«It seems that economic interests have finally started working, and agreements with the American side attest to this»
— Let's return to your criminal case, about which almost nothing was known. Initially, you were accused under Article 342 of the Criminal Code (Organization and preparation of actions that grossly violate public order, or active participation in them). Then Article 130 of the Criminal Code (Incitement of social enmity) was added – and it was under this article that the verdict was delivered. The trial was held in closed session. What was the essence of the accusations?
— At that point, I had already spent a long time in Akrestina – a month and a half (Loika was arrested four times in a row on administrative charges for 15 days each. — Note from «Zerkalo»). I was eagerly awaiting the moment when they would finally come to me with a criminal case – I wanted to go to Valadarka sooner. Because the conditions there are much better than in Akrestina. When the Investigative Committee finally arrived for me, I was like: "Hooray-hooray-hooray." Then they slid a paper to me, with Article 342. And I found it so funny, because I fundamentally didn't go to any [protest] actions, meaning it was impossible to pin it on me. I was like: "Are you serious?" Then I understood that they formally initiate it under this article first, because there is this large criminal case [regarding the protests in 2020]. They immediately attach it there. And in their statistics, it accumulates that so many people were prosecuted under this case. So this article was "transit."
Two weeks later, they dropped it and completely replaced it with Part 3 of Article 130 – for inciting hostility against court employees and GUBOP. This article became the "main" one, and with it, I went to serve my sentence.
— Was the case under Article 130 initiated against you for that human rights report in 2018, in which you negatively assessed the actions of security forces in persecuting members of the anarchist and anti-fascist movement?
— Yes. This was my first report, the presentation of which was disrupted in Minsk. And we made a video presentation. This entirely became part of the criminal case. And ultimately, it was the main evidence. GUBOP officers told me then: "We will look for a reason to imprison you." The report [on repression by security forces] formally fit all parameters. I was imprisoned for it. I understood that this was a formality, because if there was a person, articles would be found.
Of course, I then had to prove throughout the trial that I am not an anarchist, but a human rights activist who defends various people, including this group, and also fell victim to this crackdown.

Nasta Loika and Tut.by editor-in-chief Maryna Zolatava. Warsaw, spring 2026. Photo: Nasta Loika's personal archive
— Why do you think you, a human rights activist, were decided to be included in this group?
— The story turned out to be more infrastructural. Human rights defenders were always "curated" by KGB officers. My first criminal case against "Viasna" was also handled by the committee (in August 2021, Loika was a suspect in the case concerning Viasna's non-payment of taxes. — Note from «Zerkalo»). And I am grateful to the KGB officers who understood that I was absolutely no longer "dangerous," that after "Viasna" from 2018, I had not been involved in any politically motivated cases. I only dealt with assisting migrants, the topic of extremism, that is, something less harmful [from the authorities' point of view], as it seems to me. And the criminal case against me was stopped, my suspect status was removed on September 5, 2022.
But GUBOP officers remembered me, because for many years I always helped people, including from these [anarchist and anti-fascist] movements, consulted them, and publicly defended them. And when the opportunity arose to label everything as extremism, they gained the authority to imprison me. It was a matter of time.
And this is precisely about not making long-term enemies. That's why I would finally like to stop being in confrontation with them. I see that they are also changing, I want to give them a chance. I hope they will soon learn to work completely differently: analytically, not repressively.
— Do you think this is possible? For now, it seems there are no signs of a conciliatory position from the security forces.
— It may not be so obvious, but we don't get all the information. If we knew exactly how much force they used before, and how much now, [then we could draw conclusions]. But we see that they are now giving more "home chemistries" (a form of restricted freedom, like correctional labor without imprisonment), it seems to me. This is an obvious process. The fact that I am free proves that they will be forced to change their tendencies.
I have witnessed different waves. When I started human rights activities, there was a period of liberalization from 2008 to 2010. Then they successfully changed electoral legislation and tried to befriend everyone, the "For Freedom" Movement was registered – a lot was happening. And then December 19, 2010 – and everything suddenly became repressive again. And then, after 2015, a wave of liberalization. So these back-and-forth movements have already occurred during my time. Yes, such large-scale repressions, such a large-scale conflict with Belarusian society, have not happened before. But perhaps there will be equally large-scale liberal reforms later, who knows. We are not immune to anything.
This is an inevitable process. I am confident that all negotiations are going towards stopping detentions and releasing all political prisoners. And I hope that, for example, European diplomats, and not just American ones, will join these processes. And at some point (I want this to happen this year), there will be certain results.
They [the authorities and security forces] will simply have to adapt to a different form of work, as they did in previous years. There was a period when they almost didn't beat anyone, didn't detain anyone, didn't imprison anyone for "days" or on criminal charges. That's why I believe they can. I'm sure they can. They just need to learn a little to adapt to this new reality.
— Why do you think that today the authorities will be able to stop and not detain anyone?
— They can come to a dialogue option. For example, detain a person and have a conversation like: "You're doing something wrong." And then release them.
GUBOP officers told me: "If you only defended your migrants and the homeless, we wouldn't touch you at all." And, conditionally, if they came and said: "Don't do this, and we won't touch you." I would say: "Okay, no problem, guys." But it turned out that there's no such dialogue. And if they detained a person and said: "You're writing comments, we don't like it, quickly delete them yourself, don't do that anymore," and the person said: "Okay, fine," went and deleted their comments, and didn't get imprisoned anywhere. Everyone would be satisfied, right? It seems to me that they can re-qualify their work to a dialogue-based approach.
— It's unlikely that they are currently given such a task, that's obvious.
— There must be a [political] position, yes. But they will be forced to do it one day, because it seems that economic interests have finally started working, and agreements with the American side attest to this.
— What do you think about the negotiation process between the USA and Belarus?
— I am for everything that improves the human rights situation in Belarus. Everything that makes people's lives better – I always advocate for that. It's a pity it started so late. I really hope that European diplomats will join these processes, because I am confident that this will further accelerate the process. My dream is for this to happen as soon as possible. Through whom and how – that is secondary to me. The main thing is peaceful methods and as quickly as possible.
All this would have happened earlier. There are simply several constraining factors. For example, police officers who found a favorable situation for themselves with political prisoners. They literally earn stars there on us, or improve their material life, or something else. Well, that's their choice, that's the situation.
And there is the Russian factor that constrains the release of political prisoners. It's obvious that there's a certain stop from there: "Sell them more expensively, not cheaply, don't rush."
There's another part of the Belarusian system: the KGB plus the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which have always been, as it were, symbols, flagships of liberalization periods. I think in the State Security Committee they say: "Let's collect information, let's carefully recruit someone, but let's not be too harsh" or something else. And the Ministry of Foreign Affairs says: "Let's be friends with everyone, meet and establish connections." It seems to me that these forces are more on our side.
There are also economic factors. It is clear that the lifting of sanctions is super important for improving the living conditions of both officials and ordinary people. And that's why, if I were the Belarusian authorities, I would intensify these processes and rush to resolve this faster, so that there would even be money to pay normal salaries to security forces. By rational logic, all of us should have been released a long time ago, and liberalization should have started long ago in some form. But these constraining factors, of course, prevent this from happening.
However, I hope that common sense and the desire for development and improvement will still prevail. I have a positive perception of everything. Perhaps it's a post-release effect. Because in the colony, I had to strongly develop this skill of positive thinking within myself. And it still works.
«We had to preserve ourselves, we preserved ourselves as best we could. We cannot be blamed for that»
— During this time, were you forced or pressured to write a petition for pardon, a repentant interview?
— Yes, that happened. Well, I had it all. I had an interview with GUBOP, I have an absolutely strange repentant video. I wrote a petition for pardon, GUBOP also published that pardon, as far as I know. I'm absolutely not ashamed. They asked – I wrote, because I understood that it would lead to nothing, and if I refused, there could be all sorts of consequences.
In general, the attitude towards us in the colony changed greatly: they [officers] evolved, changed their strategies, and by the end, switched to intellectual games. Plus, they obviously cooperate very much with GUBOP, as if playing for the same team. In the last months in PKT, we were in some kind of contact format with them [the colony administration]. And the condition for my release from there was that I would be in some kind of communication with them.

Katsiaryna Andreeva and Nasta Loika free. Warsaw, spring 2026. Photo: Ksenia Maliukova
— It's not entirely clear what you're talking about. Were you forced to cooperate with the colony administration, and did you agree to it?
— Yes. And before my release, the administration literally called me in for conversations a couple of times, where they offered to "stay in touch" after my release. I didn't even answer anything to that, because I didn't understand what they meant, what kind of connection. "We can't explain it to you," they said. "Well, then I can't think about it, sorry," I replied. That was roughly the conversation.
I was released and already in emigration, I understood the scale of this work: people are indeed actively recruited and then blackmailed with this. And such mutual distrust is, of course, strongly felt here in the emigrant community.
I didn't like it right away. But I don't do anything bad, and therefore I have nothing to hide, and I am ready to tell everything.
— Yes, there are those whom they tried to recruit, they agreed, and then, when they crossed the border, they told about it. So, they tried to do that to you too?
— Well, not very actively, but the offer was made once. I am absolutely calm about any survival model behind bars. Because it is indeed a difficult ordeal. I don't judge people who cooperated more actively with the administration, agreed to interviews, wrote petitions for pardon, repentant videos. Go ahead. These are all temporary things.
We had to preserve ourselves, we preserved ourselves as best we could. We cannot be blamed for that, saying "oh-oh-oh, how could you agree to this." Yes, this is the reality of Belarusian prisons; you make some compromises. And that's normal. I don't see any problem with that. This is part of why I don't want to publicly talk about certain things regarding myself, among others. Because I'm trying to maintain at least some neutral contact to be able to do something more for Belarus. This is really important to me. And I hope that they [the security forces] are also ready to take a step towards me.
— And what if the actions of a "survival model" harm other political prisoners?
— Too hypothetical. They haven't asked for such things for a long time. And I don't know of any examples of harm. Only if some people do it on their own initiative.
— Did you observe the development of Stockholm syndrome in people behind bars? How was it?
— Well, not in myself, probably. I was rather very angry. But in others, yes – I sometimes noticed that people started first justifying, and then already with some tenderness in their voice, talking about their tormentors. And that was a wake-up call for me. It's also a way for the psyche to adapt and survive in such conditions.
— You said that over time, the attitude of the colony administration towards political prisoners changed – and eventually it came to "intellectual games." Tell us more.
— These are different things: the attitude of the colony administration towards political prisoners in 2021, in 2023, when I arrived, and in 2026, when we were released.
At first, they weren't interested in us at all; they weren't oriented, didn't understand who we were, and so on. They were simply told to push more because these were "political" prisoners. And they pushed. Then political prisoners started getting out, giving interviews, and they were told: "Oh, you pushed them too hard, they're crying a lot on camera." They were like: "Damn, we probably need to push differently." Well, then they started pushing differently. And then, towards the end, they were like: "Oh, it's possible to be super cool and cunning – these psychological games." For example, first remove all "political" prisoners from the 18th detachment, where Masha Kalesnikava was, and then suddenly "settle" Maryna Zolatava with her. Interesting how you'll get along there. For me, it was a brilliant game – a "business trip" to Masha's 18th detachment.

Nasta Loika in Warsaw with a friend's dog. Spring 2026. Photo: Iryna Arakhouskaya
Also, many security forces came to the colony; they talked with us. It was exhausting, but it was also useful for them – they suddenly started to understand something. Because, again, I am sure that KGB officers who worked on us before 2020, they more or less understood what we were about, how we were, and what to do with us. Then almost all of them resigned, new ones came who didn't understand us as well. And GUBOP generally didn't know about most of us for a very long time and didn't understand who human rights defenders were and what they did.
I see how approaches have changed and become more subtle. And the recruitment trick – that, by the way, is rather a sign of a liberalization period. This is what was active in previous such periods, when they processed the student community, various activists, male and female volunteers. So they are already ready for this [liberalization].
— You spent six months in PKT. How difficult was that in general, and what sustained you there?
— The hardest part for me was being alone. I had no contact with people, with the outside world. Of course, it puts a lot of pressure on the psyche. But I came up with something to occupy myself, some meaning. Though not immediately – at first there was a lot of rejection of this situation; I didn't expect it to happen and that they would immediately send me for the maximum term – six months. I didn't even know that the body could react so much to this stress – my nails didn't grow for the first three weeks there.
Strong anxiety, of course, affected my health. But gradually I came up with a schedule for myself: when I walk, do warm-ups, practice yoga, breathing exercises, when I read and write. This internal daily routine kept me in shape. I also warmed myself with warm memories, letters from my mother, cool photo postcards. I read 53 books. I wrote several children's stories.
— Did you end up in the punishment cell (SHIZO) and how did you feel there?
— Yes, for 17 days. But I don't want to talk about it.
— As a human rights activist, what surprised you most about the Belarusian prison system?
— I learned a lot. For example, I reread a bunch of sentences for violent crimes: grievous bodily harm, attempted murder, and such. I realized how many unjust approaches we have, how the Investigative Committee, as it were, deliberately makes crimes more severe than they are. For example, common sentences for attempted murder that was not completed. Their rhetoric is not very well-founded. But it's immediately a serious crime – although, in essence, everyone is alive, the person has a scratch that was just stitched up there, and they went to work.
Extremely vulnerable people with alcohol addiction. This is just a huge problem: no one defends these people, they are treated very poorly.
Or this horrible thing – SHIZO (Punishment Cell). By law, there are no restrictions on who can be sent there. I suffered greatly when women over 70, HIV-infected individuals, minors, people with fever were sitting there. I was horrified during that period.
Plus, this concrete covering everywhere: in temporary detention facilities (ICHU), in courts, pre-trial detention centers (SIZA). People sit on these concrete surfaces, and it's harmful to health.
I also appreciated how ineffective the penitentiary system itself is: a 40% recidivism rate is too much (authorities now report a 34% recidivism rate. — Note from «Zerkalo»). It shouldn't be like that. Therefore, my plans for system reform are relevant; I plan to engage more with this.
«I have no regrets. This means it was a path I had to walk»
— You are now abroad. Do you regret not leaving earlier and thus avoiding this experience?
— But I left several times. The first time was back in November 2020. I left, for example, for two weeks, because I was simply very tired and needed to recover. Then I was in Vilnius. In January 2021, I left for almost a month, then for another month and a half to get a coronavirus vaccination in Poland. Then, while I had a "criminal case" related to "Viasna," I left twice. And already after I had served the first 30 days and my "Viasna" case was closed, I also left for three days.
Then they really started pressuring me, saying: "No, you need to leave." I was like: "Okay, I'll think about it, I'll try." And I actually started planning my departure for November 2022. But on October 28, I was detained. I was a little too late. For a while in the pre-trial detention center, I often dreamt of going to the train station, boarding a bus, and feeling anxious. This unfinished action was present in the background. Now, on the contrary – I feel like I've completed that unfinished day, so maybe it's easier for me to endure all these new emigration challenges.
— So you don't regret not leaving then, or do you?
— I have no regrets. This means it was a path I had to walk. And I walked it. I reminded myself there that it would end someday, that it was temporary, not forever. That sustained me. I hope that I won't have similar experiences in my life anymore, that this difficult part is behind me, and I will now try to use it as much as possible for what I can. And that's it, we won't return to it anymore.

Nasta Loika after her release in Warsaw. Spring, 2026. Photo: Iryna Arakhouskaya
— More than a month has passed since your release, how are you feeling? What was the most unusual thing for you during this time in freedom?
— I feel pleasant, quite cheerful. Lots of strength, energy, desire to do something little by little. I always say that everything is very good. And when I went to the doctors, everything just became good – additional challenges and the need for procedures appeared. But there's nothing critical. I tried my best to preserve myself there [in imprisonment], and it seems to me that mostly it worked out. Now I just need to fine-tune some health aspects, and then everything will be perfectly fine.
I wouldn't say anything surprised me in freedom. I used the last month to connect with people. I met, called, and corresponded a lot. It was surprising that many people are in a low-resource state, many are depressed, or find emigration difficult, or struggle to cope with the consequences of their imprisonment.
But there are other examples. Many people who have taken advantage of new opportunities. Who always dreamed of doing something, couldn't afford it, and here they started realizing themselves in hobbies, moving forward even in work. That is, they tried themselves in a new capacity, went to study, met new people. There are many such positive stories.
It seems to me that people who suffer in Belarus also suffer in emigration. This is also a trend. And therefore, perhaps it is worth rethinking one's attitude towards the world in general. And to perceive new circumstances as new experiences, new challenges that can be overcome. I approach my forced emigration approximately the same way. Especially since I was morally ready for it, and plus I truly have very great social support. I have nothing to complain about, because from all sides, as much as possible, I am supported and helped. Few people are so lucky. I strongly feel my privilege in this and in return want to thank many people and help whenever possible.
— You have already managed to see your dog, whom friends moved to the Czech Republic after your detention, via video call – did he recognize you?
— This call was more for me, because he does recognize me in person, but not via video. So, it was more about seeing what conditions he lives in, meeting the wonderful people he is with now. It seems to me that he is truly living the best part of his life.
We agreed not to disturb him for now, not to bring him here to me, because I cannot provide him with such wonderful conditions. But at the first opportunity, I will go to the Czech Republic to see him, and then we will decide what to do next. He is almost 10 years old now – I don't want to subject him to any anxieties or worries. Of course, I miss him, but his well-being is my top priority in this sense.

Nasta Loika looks at her dog Erik via video call. Warsaw, spring 2026. Photo: Iryna Arakhouskaya
— What will you do next? And haven't you been disappointed in human rights activities?
— I had moments of very strong setbacks. For example, when I arrived at the colony, I had a very difficult first adaptation period. There was too much attention on me there. So I felt like my human rights activity was over, that I couldn't do anything, and all my competencies and contacts were gone. But there were girls there who said: "Are you even normal? Do you remember who you are?"
In 2018, I received an award in the "Engine of the Year" nomination from RADA Awards. One girl [in the colony] teased me: "You're the engine of the year! How can you say that!" This made me laugh a lot and brought back some confidence in myself for a while. I understand that with my skills and competencies, I can go anywhere at any moment, into any commercial sphere – I would be snatched up with my experience of working with people, volunteer management, and everything else. I am confident that I would realize myself very well, but no. For now, I like human rights work. I see many problems, and wherever I am – in Belarus or abroad – I am ready to solve them. The return of respect for this right depends on us. I love difficult challenges, and despite the many problems in Belarus, I want to try to do something about them. I believe it's possible.
I have a huge list of personal plans – various creative things. And studying was also in my plans. But now I've applied for volunteering with cows. Because I used to be vegan, but in the colony, I started eating dairy porridge in the mornings because it was difficult otherwise. And at first, I blamed myself, and then I thought: "No, I'll get out, I'll go volunteer with cows and try to compensate for it." And now in Poland, I found a cool organization. They care for cows that are no longer functional. So I've applied for volunteering for a couple of weeks.
I have many work plans. I want to rejoin the Human Constanta team, which very heroically endured during this time with new challenges – liquidation, migration, re-liquidation, extremist formation, and everything else. I am very grateful to them primarily for their support all these years. And, of course, little by little I will start addressing the issues that concern me. I hope that sooner or later something will work.
Comments
«Ты пішаш каментары, нам не падабаецца, хуценька сам выдаляй іх, больш так не рабі», а чалавек сказаў бы: «Акей, усё», пайшоў павыдаляў свае каментары, нікуды не сеў. Нібыта ўсе задаволеныя, так? Мне падаецца, што яны могуць перакваліфікаваць сваю працу на дыялогавы падыход.