"Help, no one wants to rent to us." A Minsk resident pitied a family and ended up with "squatters"
"This story completely put me off renting out an apartment. It stood empty for two years, and I wish it had stayed that way," admits Alena Uladzimirauna. Last month, to her misfortune, the Minsk resident decided to "be understanding" and rent her inherited one-room apartment to a tenant whom "everyone had refused." Her good deed did not go unpunished, writes Onliner.

"No one wants to rent to a Russian"
The four-story building at Kedishki, 23A, looks nothing like a battlefield. The house, as is common in old housing stock, is steeped in greenery; every brick not yet "overhauled" basks in the rays of the autumn sun. Meanwhile, it is here that real rental passions unfolded.

"On September 2, we posted an ad for renting out the apartment," says Katsiaryna, Alena Uladzimirauna's daughter. "We asked for 1250 rubles for a ready-to-live-in one-room apartment, plus the same amount as a deposit. In our district, this was the best offer. So the phone started ringing off the hook with calls and messages within minutes of publication."
As it later became clear from the statistics, 81 people called in just one day. And out of all of them, they had to choose a "squatter"…

Before renting out the space, the Minsk residents slightly refreshed the apartment: re-wallpapered the room, did a thorough cleaning. They say they wanted to see one person as a tenant, assuming it would be a student — BSATU is just two steps away.
"We scheduled viewings for September 4. We decided that during the introductions, we would find 'our' person and rent to them," recalls Katsiaryna. "Among those who called was one man, Aliaksei, who very much begged us to rent specifically to him. He said that four landlords had already 'rejected' his candidacy. All because he is a citizen of the Russian Federation."
He insisted that Belarusians have a prejudiced attitude towards foreigners.

I thought that indeed many might not want to get involved. And we, frankly, weren't eager either: with Belarusians, it's clear how to solve problems if they suddenly arise, but a citizen of another country… But the man who called pleaded so much, persuaded us.
Moreover, he said he planned to live with his 17-year-old son, who is already Belarusian — with a blue passport, and attends a nearby school. Aliaksei also mentioned that his son is registered very close by, on Makayonka Street. And they needed housing because some disagreements arose with the child's mother, and so they were looking for a roof over their heads."
Viewings began on September 4. Among those eager to see the apartment and its owner were the father and son. Katsiaryna says that the potential tenants did not raise any suspicions: just ordinary people. Except that they pressed hard on pity: saying they were currently renting an apartment daily, paying a lot of money, and didn't know what would happen tomorrow.

— Our principal position is to rent the apartment only officially, through a contract. It at least somehow protects both parties (though if you recall the story about the "squatters" in Shabany, you wouldn't say so. — Onliner's note). Plus, we expected a year-long tenancy, no less. We stated all these conditions to Aliaksei and his son. They agreed. We also decided to play it safe and conclude an agreement with the 17-year-old boy — a citizen of the Republic of Belarus," the interlocutor notes.
On September 5, the parties met at the "First National Trading House" in Vostok, where the Pervomaisky district's Settlement and Information Center (RDC) is now located. The owner and the almost-tenant managed to fill out and sign a standard agreement, but did not register it.



"It turned out that a technical passport for the apartment was needed to conclude the agreement. And we didn't have one at all — we somehow missed this detail when processing the inheritance. Thank goodness the cadastral agency is located in the same building, and mom immediately submitted an application for document restoration. She paid for urgency — the technical passport was supposed to be ready in three business days," Katsiaryna recounts the events.
At this point, everyone should have gone their separate ways, scheduling a meeting when the full package of documents was in hand, but the Minsk residents decided to be understanding of the poor tenants.
"We agreed to hand over the keys immediately so they could start moving their belongings, and we would meet at the RDC the following week. Aliaksei thanked us for being accommodating, and handed over 1250 rubles. He promised to give the deposit when we finalized the agreement.
On September 10, I picked up the technical passport and immediately contacted Aliaksei to choose a time for a meeting at the RDC and registration of the agreement."

But… he started to evade: first, he couldn't because he was busy, then he left, then his son went to Moscow. After that, his son had problems at school. And it all ended with "the son can't appear on camera at all, because he's being looked for, and all the rooms in the RDC are full of cameras." This was already some kind of delusion, especially given that we had already met there on September 5.
Of course, I didn't like any of this. After consulting with my daughter and son-in-law, I decided that we needed to part ways with these companions. Why would I want illegal residents?" says Alena Uladzimirauna.

"You have no right, evict us through court"
But it turned out that wanting to part with tenants and actually parting with them are not the same thing at all. After informing Aliaksei by phone of the need to vacate the one-room apartment, Alena received a storm of emotions in response.
"Understanding how difficult all this is, we gave them six days to find new housing and move out. We explained that as soon as we received the keys, we would return the remaining part of the money (proportionate to the days lived). That is, the apartment was supposed to be free by September 20," adds Yahor, Alena Uladzimirauna's son-in-law. —
However, on Monday, September 20, when we arrived, Aliaksei declared that not only would he not move out, but he also forbade us from entering the apartment.
And in general, he said we should evict him through court. And until there's a court decision, he'll live here.

Suspecting that accusations might later appear, as if a million dollars had disappeared from the one-room apartment, we indeed did not enter the apartment. Instead, we called the police, wrote a statement asking for help to evict the person, because he occupies the housing illegally — we never concluded the agreement."
The owners also decided to change the bottom lock so that the "squatter" couldn't enter the apartment without their knowledge. If he needed to pick up his belongings, he would call, and they would arrange it. They calmed down about it. However, there was no call. And the next day, passing by, Katsiaryna and Yahor saw that the light was on in Alena Uladzimirauna's apartment.

How is this possible? Easily, if you change the locks, which the illegal resident did.
"On September 22, we decided to set up an ambush," Yahor recalls the absurd situation. "We sat in the yard for almost two hours, watching the windows. At some point, the light in the room turned on for a second. We immediately called the police, explaining that unauthorized persons were in the apartment — it looked like a break-in. Ten minutes later, officers were on the scene. They started knocking, but no one opened. Then both we and the police officers tried to open the door with our keys — nothing worked."
"And only when the lock replacement master arrived, did rustling start in the apartment — Aliaksei opened the door. And with a complaint: "I was sleeping, why are you bothering me here, you have no right!"
The owners and the "would-be" tenants went to the police again.
"We didn't want the person to have a criminal case opened against them, to be imprisoned. We planned to reach an agreement. We offered to meet the next day, so that in the presence of the local police officer, Aliaksei could pick up his belongings, and we would give him money for the 'unlived' days (minus the amount we had to spend on changing the locks). In response, he shouted that the police had no right to deal with eviction and that we should go to court. He even waved the unregistered agreement.
In the end, we agreed that tonight, from September 22 to 23, Aliaksei would take his valuables, and the next day he would contact us to pick up the rest. He did indeed take his essential belongings, although he resisted to the last and even told the police he wouldn't leave. And the rest… He hasn't been in touch for a week and ignores our calls," Yahor says, surprised.

The family recalls that, after leaving the apartment, the resident demonstratively settled with his belongings in the stairwell. How long he sat on the landing is unknown.
Was this a premeditated plan?
Eventually, Aliaksei left the landlords a surprise: he locked the apartment with the top lock — the one he had installed himself and for which the owners had no keys. The Minsk residents had to call a locksmith again.

"Due to the situation that arose, we had to talk to locksmiths, and you know, it feels like this is some new trend: tenants move in, stop paying, but don't leave voluntarily, demanding to be evicted through court," Katsiaryna muses. "And what is a court? It's months of proceedings. A case can be dragged out indefinitely, hearings postponed, appeals filed. Thus, one can live without payment for several months. And then find the next landlords and pull the same scheme with them."

"Indeed, Aliaksei, while packing his things, said that it was nothing terrible: there are many of us, landlords, he will find others," Yahor recalls. "Hearing this, I specifically called all the owners offering space in our area. I warned them that there is such a fellow and it's best not to get involved with him. People were very grateful."
— It turns out that it even saved us that we didn't manage to conclude an agreement. If it had been, we would be going through courts now," adds Katsiaryna. "In general, I now believe that the authorities' reaction to such a precedent should be harsh, otherwise it will become a signal for all unscrupulous people: you can change the locks in an apartment you like and live at your pleasure."
And a tip for landlords: don't be soft, don't be yielding — if something suspicious starts, act tough. And conduct all communication through correspondence, so you have proof later. Phone conversations are just word against word."
The family plans to catalog the belongings left in the apartment and put them into storage.





— Why do you think your tenant evaded concluding an agreement? Then he really could have avoided paying and stretched out the eviction process for three months.
— We came to the conclusion that most likely, he simply didn't have the available 1250 rubles that needed to be paid as a deposit. He even shouted at us at some point, saying, 'Return the whole amount, then I'll leave'," Katsiaryna and Yahor recall.
— We pitied the people," sighs Alena Uladzimirauna. "It would have been better to rent to a student who is motivated to live near the university."

So we have reached the times when students — a category that landlords previously generally tried to avoid — have become reliable tenants.
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