"Cops walked over the heads of bound people." Former political prisoner on the Pinsk case, a year in SHIZO and prison solidarity

— Let's talk about the present, adaptation, and life in Warsaw. How do you feel now, what is your typical day like?

— My life is getting much better now. I'm not afraid of being jailed again. Although there were hints when I was under supervision in Belarus: I was told to prepare for going back to prison. Now everything is fine. I'm involved in medicine, I go to work — building wooden frame houses. Normal work, decent pay. I like it. In the evenings, I walk around Warsaw, in the center. I look around. I realize I will probably live here for the rest of my life. I was released on February 25, 2026, and arrived in Warsaw on March 18. Quite recently.

— You currently live in a shelter. How is your daily life organized there? Does such an environment help — being among people with similar experiences?

— The shelter is home to people who have gone through practically the same things as I have. Some were in a penal colony, some were on "chemistry" (forced labor assignment), some simply left in time, otherwise they would also be in a camp. It's a good collective, we have no misunderstandings. They help us with food. We talk, gather to discuss problems.

— Was it difficult to start everything from scratch in a new country?

— It was difficult. A friend of mine helped me with work; he also served time in the same penal colony as me — PC-22 "Wolf's Lair," only he was released in '24. When I arrived, he found out I was in Warsaw, immediately located me, and suggested where to get a job. It's good everywhere when you have many friends.

The way you lived in the colony is how people treat you after release. There are a lot of guys here in Warsaw who served time with me; I communicate with all of them, I have practically all their contacts.

I feel absolutely completely safe here. The people are friendly, no one conflicts anywhere. The police don't patrol yards to detain you, like in Belarus. Everything is different here, it's a reasonable country.

— What are the main difficulties you face after leaving Belarus?

— It all depends on the person. If you're interested in everything, then [adaptation] will be easy. There are difficulties with banks: you can't open an account, get a card, banking services are unavailable. Otherwise, it's purely adaptation.

It's very difficult at first to adapt to communicating with people after the penal colony, because I served my maximum term of 6 years, from start to finish.

I talk to everyone, I manage, but what should I tell them? I try not to talk about the colony, only if people ask themselves — then I tell them. I just don't want to remember those times.

I understand one thing: if I had stayed in Belarus, it would have been much harder for my parents and loved ones if I were back in a penal colony. Different methods are practiced there. It's better for me to be here.

— As some ex-political prisoners have said, imprisonment ruined their families. Did 6 years of captivity affect your family relationships?

— When I was released from the penal colony, my mother and sister met me. My wife didn't meet me. At that moment, she hadn't divorced me, and I thought everything would be fine for me, but it turned out this way.

She constantly came for visits, but said nothing. It would have been better for me if she had told me the truth immediately. When a person is released from a penal colony and finds out something like that, there can be various reactions — someone psychologically unstable could have caused trouble.

I took everything normally, talked to her, and made the decision for myself that it would be easier for me to start life anew.

Павялічыць

A normal, decent man would have defended women and children at such a moment, especially since they came there with absolutely nothing

— Let's go back to August 2020. What do you remember about the events in Pinsk?

— With my "accomplice" (as the cops called her) Alena Maushuk, we were the first two to run to defend people when they were surrounded and began to be beaten. Near the Pinsk city executive committee stood women, men, children. They were waiting for the vote count. They stood, talked, didn't shout, didn't do anything like that. There weren't many people. From the side of the square, OMON and Pinsk law enforcement surrounded them.

There were security forces in riot gear and in plain clothes without identification marks. People were simply surrounded, and they began to tightly close the circle, a crush started. The cops began beating people.

One man broke through the parapet, covered in blood, and started to run away. I saw this and ran to defend. A couple of minutes later, the others ran. We managed to push back the circle near the passage, and people (children, women) began to flee from there. It was very serious. A normal, decent man would have defended women and children at such a moment, especially since they came there with absolutely nothing.

— Was this your first participation in protests? What was the atmosphere in the city during those days?

— I participated a couple of times in 2010 when Milinkevich ran for president. He came to Pinsk, I communicated with him. I had long understood that the authorities were lying. I came when signatures were collected. But in our city, there had never been such demonstrations and such brutality as in August 2020. Back then, on election day, the atmosphere was normal, friendly: people came out into the city to hear the election results, they were happy. No one beat anyone, people didn't quarrel among themselves, there were no drunkards.

I don't know why these scumbag security forces started resorting to violence. The people did not forgive them for it. In Pinsk, many people always voted against Lukashenka, because everyone knew he falsified elections.

As soon as the station door opened, I heard the whole station screaming. The entire floor there was covered with bound people, lying on top of each other, and officers were walking over their heads and hands

— How did your arrest happen? Did you expect them to come for you?

— It happened on the evening of August 10, 2020.

On the 9th, all the cops in the city were dispersed, they hid. Special forces arrived by helicopters, they were also dispersed, and they fled to hide in the city executive committee.

On the evening of August 10, I was walking through the city with my sister and nephew (he was 12-13 years old). A silver "Lada" pulled up, and four people in plain clothes jumped out. They immediately pushed my nephew, and he fell.

I could have fought them off, they wouldn't have arrested me. But I decided it was better for my nephew and sister to go home, and I would go with them. They put an illegal plastic zip tie on me, squeezing my hands tightly, and put me in the middle of the back seat.

Immediately, they struck me near my ear, and I started bleeding. After that, they delivered another 5-6 blows to my head area. They were just picking up everyone indiscriminately on the street.

— What happened when they brought you to the police station?

— They brought me to Kirova, 53, to the City Department of Internal Affairs (HAUS).

There was a line of special forces officers in riot gear, with shields and batons, about 15 on each side. I walked through this corridor, and they were beating me.

As soon as the station door opened, I heard the entire station screaming — people who were being beaten were screaming. Downstairs there was a large shooting range, and, as it turned out, the entire floor was covered with bound people lying one on top of another, and officers were walking over their heads and hands.

They took me to the second floor. About 10 people were lying on the tiled floor, there were puddles of blood. I realized I was in big trouble. My head was swollen and three times larger than usual.

Blood flowed from my ear until August 18.

They threw me on the floor, and about five minutes later, 8-9 local cops approached. They immediately struck me on the spine with a baton. I stopped feeling my arms and legs, thinking they had broken my spine. I started swearing at them: asking why they were beating me and engaging in lawlessness.

They were without masks. I turned my head and recognized two of them: one studied with my friend, the other played sports. When one of them realized I recognized him, he didn't know where to look. They beat me with their hands and feet for 20-40 minutes, hitting my head, sides, and legs.

— Did they react to your words at all, or did they just keep beating you?

— They beat me, then stopped.

At that moment, I heard a girl scream: "Don't touch me, what are you doing!" Her underwear flew into the corner where the trash can was. I turned and said: "Are you out of your minds? You're doing nonsense." For this, they started beating me again. I didn't hear the girl scream anymore. So I lay tied in the corridor until 4 AM. Periodically, every two to three hours, they would come and beat me and two other men. Then they dragged me into the Pinsk Temporary Detention Facility (IVS).

— Did you document the beatings?

— Yes, on August 14, my lawyer brought a forensic expert. He documented everything on video and photo.

There was a laceration on my head, a scar remained under my hair. The hematoma was huge, and a swelling remained on my side.

I have documents about the recording of the injuries and the initiation of a criminal case against the HAUS officers. But the case was swept under the rug. They argued that the video cameras allegedly weren't working that day due to a strong thunderstorm, even though the sky was clear. And therefore, it was allegedly impossible to accurately determine whether I was actually beaten.

When I was first brought to the Baranovichi pre-trial detention center (SIZO), an officer looked at me and asked where they brought me from in such a state, because they are not allowed to accept people like that.

I replied: "Your colleagues in Pinsk beat me." He thought for a moment and said: "Okay. We'll write it down that you fell off a bicycle."

Everything was bought there; they covered for each other. Corruption and mutual protection.

— How long were you in the IVS and SIZO? Were you provided with medical assistance?

— In the IVS, I was held from the evening of August 10 to August 14. In a cell meant for 4 people, there were 17 or 18 of us. We slept two to a bed. The badly beaten ones constantly lay down, others stood or alternated. Some couldn't sit at all due to damaged organs.

For four days, I was constantly taken out for interrogations and beaten on the way.

Once, they hung me by handcuffs from a pipe; I hung there for two hours.

There was no toilet — just a bucket in the corner. The water they gave us to drink was heavily chlorinated, unfit for drinking.

I spent about a year in the Baranovichi SIZO. There was no medical assistance. In the penal colony, doctors came once every six months; I signed up for an appointment, but my name was crossed off the lists.

In the winter of 2020, a doctor in the SIZO brought me a pill simply wrapped in paper. I took it, and during the night, I was wracked with cramps, I thought I would die. In the morning, I vomited blood. After that, I decided not to take their pills.

Medication in parcels was forbidden. Only once, already in the colony, was I allowed to receive a medical parcel with medicine from my parents.

Later, in the SIZO, I had an episode of losing consciousness: my blood pressure spiked, I was shaking. The doctor arrived 20 minutes later, gave an injection, and said it was probably a micro-stroke. My little finger went numb. No examinations were conducted.

Conditions in the SIZO were harsh: "eyelashes" (iron blinds) on the windows, no light or air. The cell floor was tiled, constantly cold.

Every day at 11 AM, we were forced to wash the cell. Regardless of whether you were beaten or not — everyone cleaned. Otherwise, it was solitary confinement (karcer). After cleaning, there was intense dampness. But we lived collectively, helping each other.

Павялічыць

— You went through very severe trials. Where did you get the strength to hold on?

— I understood that my parents, sister, and children were waiting for me outside. I decided for myself that I must emerge as a normal person. I also helped the guys in the cell myself. When the coronavirus raged, there was no quarantine. I communicated with the sick, but I didn't get sick. I refused vaccinations, for which I was put in SHIZO.

At first, letters didn't reach me. One day, a censor came, brought about 20 letters from complete strangers, said "sorry," and handed them over. The other letters, apparently, were destroyed. I understood that people supported me.

— Tell us, how did the trial proceed, what did other defendants in the "Pinsk case" say during the session?

— There were 14 of us, all ordinary citizens; we didn't know each other and only met when the case was closed. There was a woman with five children; she was tried together with her husband. The case was fabricated, everything was decided in advance. I was charged under parts 1, 2, and 3 of Article 293 (mass riots), but only the second part was proven.

During interrogations, they beat me, demanding I confess where I hid the 20 dollars they allegedly paid me. I replied: "Perhaps you were paid to beat people."

I didn't hide that I used force against the police. I did the right thing: once they were pulling a child by the ear, I took him away and sent him home.

Another time, three security forces with shields were beating a girl who was sitting on the asphalt. I drove them away with a piece of wood that was lying on the ground.

I was identified at the HAUS. In court, the cops cried and demanded money (material compensation). The collective lawsuit amounted to about 278 thousand rubles. Many of the co-defendants had poor parents. My parents paid off this lawsuit: they sold my van, truck, passenger car, and withdrew money from accounts.

— How were you received in the penal colony and what did you work as there?

— On July 19, 2021, I was brought in handcuffs to PC-22. 22 people arrived in quarantine, including political prisoners. The security forces in the colony remembered me, calling me a "BChB-nik" (referring to the white-red-white flag) and a "fighter." I told them that a normal person in my place would have done the same, otherwise, how would I have looked my parents in the eye afterward? Many cops understood what was happening but were afraid to show it.

In the colony, I worked everywhere: twisting wire, as a stoker, in woodworking, in the carpentry shop. During my term, I earned only 1837 rubles (about 500 dollars). But monthly, it came out to 80 kopecks, because all the money went to pay off the lawsuit.

The main thing in SHIZO is not to show that you are feeling bad. Otherwise, the cops will constantly pressure you with it. Because of this pressure, people's psyches broke; I saw people who simply went insane

— You spent almost a year in SHIZO. Why were you sent there and how did you survive it?

— In 5 years, I had 57 disciplinary reports. I spent practically a year — 237 days — in SHIZO. My maximum was 20 consecutive days. They specifically sent me there during the off-season: when the radiators were cold, and it was freezing outside.

Reports were written for everything: incorrect greeting, a spice in the nightstand, a hibiscus tea leaf at the bottom of a bag, 59 packs of cigarettes in a bag instead of 60 according to the inventory (although the 60th pack was in my pocket). Once they wrote a "report via intercom": I reported via intercom at the checkpoint that I was "thrown" to another squad, and they considered it obscene language.

Once, they wrote three violations against me in one report for transporting firewood on a cart to the boiler room, even though I had permission for it.

I came to the commission and said: "Give me PKT (Punishment Cell/Chamber of Cell-Type Premises), I'm not going to sit in your circus." They yelled, said it wasn't up to me to decide, and kicked me out.

The hardest thing in SHIZO is summer, when the cell is stuffy and there's nothing to breathe. But when it was cold, I wasn't too cold. My friend, though, served 17 days in autumn, and then couldn't get warm for two months.

The main thing in SHIZO is not to show that you are feeling bad. Otherwise, the cops will constantly pressure you with it. Because of this pressure, people's psyches broke; I saw five people who simply went insane. An 18-year-old Ukrainian was so drugged with pills that he was drooling, then they gave him Article 411 and added 8 months to his sentence.

In the colony, I read a lot. "The Gulag Archipelago," Akunin's books, Sienkiewicz's "The Teutonic Knights." But then I stopped reading, communicated more with people. Humor saved us — everyone lived on jokes, you couldn't survive there without laughter.

I told them to their faces that I was not going to repent, because I acted correctly. Before whom should I ask for a pardon? Before a president who, in my opinion, is not a president?

— Were you offered to write a petition for pardon?

— From 2022, KGB or GUBOPiK (Main Directorate for Combating Organized Crime and Corruption) officers came once a year. They demanded I record a video and write a petition for a pardon. I refused, telling them to their faces that I was not going to repent, that in August then, I acted correctly. And before whom should I ask for a pardon? Before a president who, in my opinion, is not a president? After each of their visits, I was sent to SHIZO.

— Did you feel solidarity in the colony, and how did it manifest?

— In the colony, everyone supports each other. They deliberately label you a "malicious violator," limiting purchases in the store to 84 rubles a month. Prices there are exorbitant. There are no vegetables or vitamins. Parcels are forbidden by disciplinary reports. If you don't have something, the guys share with you; if they don't have it, you give it to them. You can't survive there otherwise.

I always helped political prisoners. We passed things to each other carefully, so no one would know, otherwise, we would be punished.

When Ales Pushkin was being taken to a closed prison, Dima Rezanovich and I helped him pack. He left normally. And then we received very bad news — he died. The guys from the neighboring cell said that doctors were deliberately not allowed to see him for two days.

Павялічыць

— Do you regret anything now, looking back at past events?

— In these six years, I lost my family, lost my property. But if I could turn back time, knowing what I would have to go through, I would still have done exactly the same. I acted according to my conscience, I defended people.

I am 100 percent sure that all those who beat people and are complicit in deaths will sooner or later face punishment — before a human court or before God. The boomerang will come back to them.

I have many names of cops that should be added to Belarus's black book.

— What are your plans for life now?

— Right now, the main thing is to get back on my feet, earn money. In the future, I want to build an apartment, perhaps create a new family.

We became very good friends with the guys from our case, we stay in touch.

With some who have already been released or evacuated, we live in Warsaw, renting accommodation together.

I don't want to constantly remember prison; I'm building a new life, and everything suits me.

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