Marfa Rabkova — about Freedom Day in pre-trial detention, her father's death, changes in herself, and relations with the colony administration

Here are excerpts from the extensive interview.

About meeting her husband after release

— Tell us, how did you meet your husband?

— Of course, for me, it was a moment of bitterness: none of my loved ones were nearby at the moment of my release, because they were waiting for me at home in Belarus, but, unfortunately, I ended up in a different place. All of us, while there, imagined this day, painted it vividly, and lived it dozens, hundreds of times. But reality always sets its priorities and scenery differently. And frankly, I felt a white envy when I saw people being embraced by their loved ones. And I stood there like an orphan. I don't want to diminish the significance of my friends and colleagues who enveloped me with care and attention, but loved ones and relatives are unique. I waited a month and a half for my husband to arrive. And, perhaps, I was so anxious throughout this period that at the moment of meeting, the anxiety was gone. I made an atypical gesture. I bought flowers — "durable" ones. I gave them to him and said: let them stay where I live for now, as a reminder of our first meeting after imprisonment.

How Marfa was made the leader of an anarchist group during the investigation

— At that moment [when I was in pre-trial detention], I was offered a deal. If you are charged under Article 285, there is an article in the Criminal Code that guarantees that if you are a member of an organized criminal group (OCG) and testify against other participants, you are fully relieved of criminal liability within the framework of Article 285.

And I will say, when it was offered to me, something inside me really stirred a little. At that moment, my father was dying, and, of course, that was the most manipulative point possible. I remember returning to the cell. There was only one secluded spot — in the toilet behind the curtain. I locked myself in and started thinking about what to do. And I felt so sorry for myself. But then I started thinking about the people against whom they wanted me to testify. They also have a mother, a father, a grandmother, a grandfather, and loved ones. And my story is not unique, and my grief is not unique. And why should I, choosing my own happiness, trample these people into their grief? How am I better than them?

That is, it wasn't that when this deal was offered to me, I immediately, like a brave Joan of Arc, said: "No. I won't." At that moment, I just remained silent. I realized that I needed to decide for myself by what rules I would live. When everything is very difficult, when your head is a complete mess, you are confused and don't know what to do.

And I decided that the rule by which I would live until the end of my days is — do no harm. I cannot solve my problems by harming other people.

But it's a difficult choice, really.

I refused the deal, and they turned me from an OCG participant into its leader. And my "up to 12 years" turned into "up to 20".

For some reason, this interval was easier. Probably, when it's a double-digit number, the perception is a little different.

Throughout my incarceration, I actually only lost my temper three times. When communicating with representatives of authority, I always behaved very calmly. But when they brought me the final indictment — 10 articles, 20 episodes — such a tome, I just threw it back at them. Unconsciously, I hurled it and said: "I will never sign this. Get it away from me. Have you gone completely mad, what are you doing? Who even came up with this?" Then I added: "Okay, I organized everything. If it helps to remove criminal liability from other people, then write whatever you want."

Павялічыць

About her father's death and how she learned to forgive

— How have you changed over these years?

— Perhaps I have deepened even more into the human rights concept, which is very difficult to implement in practice – human rights for all. To be a human rights defender to the end and help absolutely everyone, regardless of ideas, regardless of views, even if you don't like the person. That is very difficult – to exclude your personal opinion in certain circumstances. It seems to me that this is a process that one must constantly strive for. A very important moment for me was when I realized how much I oppose any kind of violence. It seems to me that I have become a pacifist to the core. I believe that it is impossible to achieve any, even the most humane, idea through violence. It already ruins everything from the start. It's a road to nowhere. An idea cannot be wonderful if its realization path involves grief and violence.

— How do you reconcile then with this world full of violence? Where wars are endless, people suffer and die?

— That is precisely the question of how one still needs to see the world as it is. Not to idealize it, not to whitewash it, but to accept it. But to understand what I personally can do to make it better. For example, here's my personal story about violence. When I lost my father, it was a very unpleasant story, to say the least. There were people who very strongly ironized about it.

It hurt me. And I felt immense hatred within myself. And I actually lived with it for quite a long time before this. It filled me. And I didn't hide it, in principle, even publicly. But at some point, I realized that it was such a terrible, poisonous emotion. And first and foremost, it poisons me. I realized that I don't want to hate. I want inner harmony. I want to be light and calm.

But that's easy to say. In practice, when you face a huge amount of hatred, anger, betrayal, it's very difficult to stick to the positions you've chosen.

I realized that violence and aggression are like a boomerang that goes back and forth: they hate me, I hate back. And in this way, I continue this path of hatred. I become like a bridge to pass it on. And I want to stop it. Because violence begets violence. If I am subjected to violence, I start to retaliate with violence. And I seemingly continue this path. But I want to say: "Stop." This little hatred will stop with me. I will not continue it.

I didn't just come to this thought. I really love Karatkevich. I regret that we missed each other in eras, that we cannot meet and talk. I remember, somewhere in September 2021, I was reading "Christ Has Landed in Hrodna." There is such an interesting moment there. The main character carries a cross up a mountain (I imagine it on the bank of the Neman near Kalozha), where he and his friends are to be executed by hanging... But then his associates arrest the executioners, the authorities' representatives... Then he is offered to deal with his oppressors. But he takes a torch, approaches each gallows, sets it on fire, and says that no one will ever be hanged in this city again, that now it is a free and clean city and that there will never be so many tears, blood, and violence in it.

I read and realize that something clicks in my head. Because it was like this: they hit me, and I want to hit back. And this, in principle, is the most natural human reaction. The simplest for the psyche. But we are a little more complex already. We want to be a little better, right? I realized that I want to be different. I took a very long time to get here. This was a process that took not a month, nor two, nor half a year. I took a very long time to forgive. Because, however pompously it may be said, it is the lot of the strong to forgive.

You are not humiliated. It makes you even stronger internally when you forgive even the most terrible things.

I remember how I decided to implement this in practice. At that moment, we were talking to a HÚBAZík (Main Directorate for Combating Organized Crime and Corruption) employee. I sit and say: "You know what? I want to tell you that I forgive you." He first said: "Is this some kind of joke? Are you going to tell us something now?" They decided that it was some clever move, that I would now pull out a "verbal sting" and sting them. I say: "No, no, no. I honestly tell you: I forgive you." They didn't believe it. In their plane, it was something too complicated. That is, they always expect a reaction similar to their own.

— Were they the ones who ironized about your father's death?

— Yes. In principle, all manipulations were mostly based on the fact that my father was dying. Probably, the first year was the hardest for me because of this. I perfectly understood my father's condition, the type of cancer, that it was very aggressive, that time was really running out...

— Was he sick even before you were detained?

— Yes. And it just so happened that the last six months before my arrest were constant trips between Minsk and Dobrush, because I had to support my family a bit, treat him, and be by his side. Probably, you feel adult when it's not your parents taking care of you, but when you already understand that you have to take on the family and support it.

For me, the hardest part of the detention was that I couldn't physically help my family.

But you know, every cloud has a silver lining... The last time my father and I had a big argument was because he was tired. He started having such desperate thoughts. And I said: I understand, but look, you have us. You don't want to think about us, we're here for you, we want you to fight.

And when I was detained, he got a fixed idea to wait for me. And that gave him strength for a period of time to force himself to fight. Of course, it's very difficult to say directly, but perhaps even these terrible events gave him a few extra months of life. Because Dad gritted his teeth. I didn't get many letters from him. He wrote: I promise to wait for you, I live with the thought that I need to wait for you. (...)

Perhaps I expected that my parents would pass away sooner or later, so I was already mentally preparing for it. I remember the day I was informed about it. He died on the fifth. The lawyer told me about it on August sixth, 2021. I left the office in tears; it was dawn, no one else was there yet. And there was a man who worked at Valadarka. And he hugged me. He started to comfort me.

How Freedom Day was celebrated at Valadarka

— Is it true, or is it someone's fantasy, that New Year's 2021 was celebrated with the song "Mury" (Walls), that other protest songs were sung? Did that happen at Valadarka when you were there?

— Yes, and all the slogans were shouted out the windows. I remember very clearly when in 2021 we constantly sang songs in the yard. With Ira Shchasnaya, when we were in the same cell, we also sang there constantly. I stayed in cell №83 for two years. And this was preceded by the fact that on March 25, 2021, our entire cell was "scattered" (moved to different cells. — Ed. note.). Because we were just celebrating March 25. We put some postcard on the table, we had BHC (white-red-white) marmalade. There were eight of us, we made ourselves little flowers with ribbons, cut them out, painted them, everything was in white-red-white colors. And we lined up: white-red-white-red-white...

— For inspection? Seriously?

— The most interesting thing is that we had, I think, three people who were not on "political" articles. They fully supported us.

The report was supposed to be given by a woman who was imprisoned for alimony. And she was very enthusiastic. We said: "We want to give the report in Belarusian, but it's your turn," and she said: "Then I will give it in Belarusian." The cell block officer comes in, she starts giving the report in Belarusian. And he sees that it's not a "political" prisoner giving it in Belarusian. He said: "What kind of circus have you arranged here?" And slammed the door.

And then we had to be taken out for a walk. We all come out beautiful with these flowers in our hair. They tell us: "Either you take them off, or we won't take you out like this. You have extremist symbols." And we say: "Where do you see them at all? It's just a flower, look."

And the whole day was such a commotion. They would take us out, then bring us back in, then they searched us, then we stood in the corridors with mattresses, those flowers were trampled.

The block officer ran and immediately complained to the chief, and it was no longer possible not to react. So, measures were taken. That's what the celebration was like. Overall, the idea at that moment was for this celebration to take place in many cells simultaneously. We wanted everyone to start shouting "Long live Belarus!" at a certain time. And this idea came up, we shared it with our neighbors, everyone supposedly supported it, but then for some reason decided not to do it. The operatives found out about it. Unfortunately, different people were in the cells. And they started an investigation into who initiated it... They interpreted it as a desire to stage some kind of riot, some mass action, and looked for instigators. I know that on that day someone from the men loudly shouted "Long live Belarus!", and he was placed in a punishment cell.

Павялічыць

— I remember that even before our detention, there were publications that you had health problems in the pre-trial detention center. Can you summarize: how did these five and a half years affect your health and did you have problems getting medical help?

— Probably, in pre-trial detention it was the hardest, because I had COVID. I had a severe case. I am grateful to God that I was able to cope with it myself. Unfortunately, yes, there was no help. Treatment in the form of paracetamol. I know very bad things, when the doctor generally refused to go into a cell where COVID was rampant, and, for example, men were forced to go on hunger strike for a specialist to come to them.

COVID really undermined me, and I looked so bad that even when women I knew personally moved into the cell, they didn't recognize me. That is, I was very thin, very exhausted, and looked really bad. I had problems with my thyroid gland and my teeth.

At this moment, judging by how people are generally released and in what shape and condition they are, I believe that I am doing generally well. There are problems, but they are not so significant, they need to be controlled, but overall everything is fine.

About relations with the colony administration

— How were your relations with the administration in the colony? From my observations, you tried to communicate with them, resolve some issues.

— At first, not at all. I don't even know at what point something changed, because initially I would take a stand and say, "No." I don't even remember what influenced me to decide to start some conversations. It was some kind of, probably, joint mechanism. And somewhere, probably, in 2025 I started communicating.

Essentially, it was an offer from their side to build "trusting communication," but that's funny, of course. However, I decided to give it a chance, because the first steps were made by them.

When I first arrived at the colony, some time passed, and I looked at what was happening. And I started urging the girls to plead guilty. Although I myself had not pleaded guilty then. Simply looking at how heavy this burden is and how hard it is for people who didn't do it to serve time, I took such a liberty. I received a dose of hate for it.

But I said: "Please, plead guilty. What matters is a healthy person who has gone through trials with the least losses: psychological and physical. If this gives you a chance to avoid the punishment cell, if it gives you a chance to avoid constant pressure and bullying." Because it is very difficult. At some moments, I actually felt like I couldn't even breathe anymore. It was so psychologically difficult.

— What were those moments, for example?

— When you simply realize that 100 people are looking at you hostilely and each of them is waiting for any mistake, any oversight from you. When you simply enter the educational work room (PVP), you need to sit somewhere. You approach an empty seat, and they tell you: "This is taken. This is taken. Get away from here." It's like in school: you're an outcast.

You can't even approach someone, talk to someone. And if someone approaches you, asks something, they immediately fly over to her and say: "Get away from her. Don't you have enough problems? Don't talk to her." It was very hard when you don't even know who to turn to, you don't know who to ask, you don't know how to live, what rules apply there... And you're constantly standing in the wrong place, sitting incorrectly, looking in the wrong direction, passing the plate incorrectly. And this is every minute, every second of your life in this collective. You can only fall asleep at night. And if you live 16 hours a day constantly on edge, when you understand that any mistake you make — and you'll be pecked to death... It's very difficult morally.

— When did this pressure stop?

— Such strong pressure, probably, two months later. They probed me, scanned me, watched my reaction, and I thought: "Despite everything, I won't be aggressive." But at the same time, I didn't let them walk all over me. I had a sense of self-worth, and I just calmly explained. For example, they would come into the PVP and ask: "Why are you standing, Rabkova?" I would answer: "Unfortunately, the people in this room don't want me to sit next to them. So I'm forced to stand here." (...)

At some point, I suggested to the administration: we need to reach some consensus, let's talk. Since it happened that we are in your institution, we need to build relations somehow, and not just in a punitive manner... They then laughed, said they already had such a [Volha] Klaskouskaya, who offered them this role and supposedly even did something. Such a "tenth category" trade union. I tried all the time to lobby the topic (and you yourself, probably, faced this): sometimes it's unclear at all what the problem is when some intense attention starts towards you. You start to feel that clouds are gathering, but it's very difficult to understand why. It always irritated me why they couldn't just directly say what the problem was, where I crossed some invisible red line, why something was happening at that given moment?

For example, I said: "Have you ever tried to fire a warning shot in the air, not immediately at the legs? Why don't you try to negotiate with these people, but immediately take harsh measures?" Maybe among these convicts, among ten people, two won't hear you. But eight of them will most likely listen if you say: look, there's a problem, we will react to it if you don't stop, for example, speaking out publicly.

— Did they answer such questions?

— At first, they were very critical of this.

But I pleaded, I said: please, don't put women in the punishment cell, it's terrible. It's about health. If you are there, women's health can be ruined. It's so cold there that you can freeze anything. And young girls, if they stay there for quite a long time, it's a cross on their ability to have children.

So I convinced them: tell me. I will persuade people. If it's not within the scope of some harshness, I think it's possible to negotiate. But there were complicated cases there, like Lazarchyk (political prisoner Alena Lazarchyk, due to poor eyesight in the colony, refused to sew; she was later additionally convicted under Art. 411 and is now serving her sentence in penal colony No. 24 for recidivists - NN). Well, how do you persuade Lazarchyk to sew?

You simply can't imagine how they actually made concessions with Lazarchyk. When she wrote a refusal to work, I even convinced the foreman not to process that statement. And she agreed to postpone it for a day. And I went to Lazarchyk and started begging her. I said, let me give you my process, it's easy, I'll mark it with chalk for you. Just don't go to the punishment cell. She replied: "I never change my decision; if I wrote it, it means I'll go to the punishment cell." I told her: "But you understand that you're just killing yourself?" She: "I understand. I want to kill myself." Well, what can you do?

But somewhere, something actually helped. This is, of course, such a complex mechanism. There are also times when the interest is not from the colony's side, but from above. What can you do? More often than not, decisions were handed down to them; not many decisions depended on them.

When I saw that people were starting to face problems, I tried to figure out: where did this come from? Is it Minsk or someone local? If local, you can try to solve the issue, ask: what do you want? And if it's from Minsk — well, what can you do? Will you send a pigeon by mail: spare the person, she's just a woman?

About women who need to be released urgently

— Besides Iryna Melkher, whose condition causes you the most concern? Who do you think needs to be rescued first?

— Liubou Rezanovich. In general, [Mikalai] Autukhovich's case, there's also Volha Mayorava there. People who have been imprisoned since 2020-2021. They need to be released first and foremost. So many years have passed. These are elderly people. These three women have been imprisoned since 2020; they are all pensioners. They all have a bunch of chronic illnesses. They all have a very difficult psychological state. These are grandmothers! And honestly, I don't even imagine what threat they could pose now. They could really die there. I was with Ira [Melkher], and I'm very scared that she simply won't leave this colony. Thank God, so far no women have died in the colony. I very much hope that this won't happen.

There's also a girl — Maryna Leanovich. Her situation is also very complicated, because she has psychological peculiarities, including a psychiatric diagnosis. She can't cope. Imagine: a difficult psychological state, a "political" tenth category, and then all this toxic environment.

I believe that pensioners, women with chronic diseases, with peculiarities of mental state — they should be released first and foremost. Mothers of many children... Zhanna Auramchyk, who has a brain aneurysm, epileptic seizures, she is a pensioner. A difficult situation, of course. And there are dozens and dozens of such stories...

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