In total, I spent a little more than 2 years behind bars. In the autumn of 2020, I was detained. I spent a week in the KGB pre-trial detention center (SIZO), 8 months in SIZO-1 on Valadarskaha Street, and another 3 months in SIZO-3 in Gomel. After that, for a little over a year, I was held in the women’s penal colony No. 4 in Homel.

I want to say right away that I did not experience any extreme “horror” — I was not beaten or left without a mattress, and so on. But there were some things that were very unpleasant for me.

The first two weeks after detention: you understand nothing — how long you will wait, where they will take you, what will happen to you. Almost immediately — transfer to Valadarka. And I imagined Valadarka like in Russian prison movies. That is, I entered the cell thinking someone would definitely have a so-called “shank,” and someone would attack me as soon as I said the wrong thing. That didn’t happen, by the way. And it was hard to adjust to the living conditions: the bedding is not always clean, the food is tasteless, you wash only once a week, and you have only 15 minutes for everything, the toilet is just behind a curtain or even without one and a meter from the table, you can go outside only when all your cellmates agree, there is little light and mold, they smoke indoors, and many other things.

“Naked searches” during transfers and court hearings. Handcuffs. If we talk about transfers, it’s just hard. First, you gather your things, drag them along with a heavy mattress, wait a long time, a body search, then you travel in uncomfortable conditions, then wait again, another body search, your things are turned inside out, you are searched. Regarding court hearings, it felt like it was done specifically to humiliate you even more. They put handcuffs on you, fastening them behind your back, while people charged with “serious articles” travel without them; they search you in several stages, you stand naked in the middle of the room waiting while your things go through the scanner, and while others are checked just by a metal detector. Additionally, they can do a “naked search” during breaks between hearings if someone thinks you behaved badly. You are not allowed to bring anything to court that ordinary prisoners are allowed to bring.

A small cell with “wonderful” neighbors. In one cell there was literally 1 square meter of free space, half the wall covered with mold, bunk beds between which it was impossible to pass without turning sideways. Cellmates changed several times a month, which was quite difficult because you can’t establish normal relationships with anyone. And the neighbors were different: homeless (thankfully they were treated for lice at the previous detention center before arriving), people with HIV (not all of whom take therapy or warn about their illness), one cellmate stole personal belongings and food (in such moments you feel like you’re going crazy, because at first you think you’re imagining it), someone lied about themselves, some you had to dissuade from harming themselves, some drank sedatives excessively and lost consciousness. You don’t even feel basic safety in the cell unless no one from the staff touches you. In short, total chaos, although, of course, there were also good women. After such a cell, I liked Homel’s SIZO much more, although the rules there are much stricter.

The first months in the colony unit. Wake up and roll call in 15 minutes, 90 people in the unit, queues for the toilet and washbasin, queues to have a snack after work, personal belongings in the locker room which you can’t access anytime, a bunch of duties, and in the first months you are literally assigned to all jobs, plugged into every hole. And then you get your first “ration,” but you can’t even eat your first yogurt in a year because you are sent to clean puddles. Plus new work. I didn’t work at a sewing machine, and the work was physically hard for me. After some time, my lower back even started to hurt. And if I failed, my colleague, also a prisoner, liked to shout at me. Once she angrily raised her hand against me but did nothing. It was very hard for me because no one had ever spoken to me like that before. Overall, they constantly communicate through shouting, which was very unusual for me.

The understanding that you can’t trust anyone. From the moment I entered SIZO, I was warned not to say too much anywhere, that there are prisoners who work for the operatives. At first, I took it lightly, like something from TV series, but it turned out to be true. From the very beginning in SIZO, I was in cells with such people. And in the colony, there are even more of them. You know some, you don’t know others. But you can’t tell anyone everything. I had a duty version of my article and detention with limited details, which I told. You are asked many provocative questions that you shouldn’t answer. It turned out that even some political prisoners lie, and you can’t trust them either. You must always watch what you say to whom, what conversations you support, who stands near you and might hear something. Such vigilance stays with you for a long time.

While you are in the colony, you live for a long time with hopes about what will happen when you are released. And it’s very painful when these hopes don’t match reality afterward. I literally felt that my whole life was destroyed. Friends left, the city is no longer the same as before, it is hard to find a job, anxiety 24/7, you don’t even feel safe in your apartment because someone has already come there, and even if you do nothing, they still file administrative protocols against you. You think you will never be left alone and will end either back in prison, a psychiatric hospital, or dead. Of course, not everyone has it so bad, but in my case, I really thought so, and there were reasons for that.

At first, I tried to relate to everything with scientific interest: I recorded slang, asked about prison life from cellmates, observed people’s behavior, and so on. At that time, there was still hope for early release or a shorter sentence, which also helped. I remember I even dreamed in spring 2021 that I was coming out of Valadarka, and everyone was meeting me. The closer the court hearings came, the fewer hopes remained. Then I heard the prosecutor’s request and understood: that’s it. You have to prepare for the colony. Despite the imperfections of the case and confused witness testimonies, the request seemed like an absurd joke. But it was already clear that the sentence would be like that. Although it’s wrong to compare — any unjust sentence is difficult, but with current terms, those seem like flowers. At that time, it was a different era.

Later, you hold on to various little things. For example, I awaited the transfer to the colony because there is fresher air and no smoking indoors. Or I was happy to finally buy dairy products in the store. Or glad that the shower time is longer somewhere. Each time you invent some little thing to rejoice in, so as not to drown in hopelessness.

In the first weeks in the colony, I set a goal for myself: to maintain the best possible physical and psychological condition, not to cross boundaries, and not to harm others. I believe I succeeded. I was strongly supported by thoughts about how everything would be when I got out. But over time, I stopped imagining anything. Because everything I imagined gradually became impossible. Meeting friends — almost all left because of repression, going to a favorite place — it closed, coming to Kyiv after release — the war began... At the end, I just wanted them not to start a new case against me a few days before release, so that a black minibus wouldn’t be waiting for me at the exit, and I wouldn’t be taken back to SIZO again.

One of the main thoughts: bad things just happen. There are some preconditions, but it doesn’t happen to you because you are a bad person. And being a good person doesn’t mean that nothing bad will ever happen. It was hard for me to accept this because deep down you still hope for a happy ending. But this doesn’t mean that good will necessarily follow bad — it might not. This is life. Nobody ever knows how they will behave in extreme circumstances. You can talk a lot and brag, you can teach others, but if you weren’t in a similar situation, you can’t accurately predict how everything will really be, even with preparation.

Talking about imprisonment, it really affected me. People there often behave differently than in normal life, and when you get out, you already feel like a different person. Speaking about me, I became more vigilant about people, but at the same time, few things can surprise me in people now. I began paying less attention to others’ opinions and became more confident in my own feelings; my relationships with loved ones have changed (with some they were preserved, with others — not, because we became very different).

More time has passed since my release than I spent behind bars. But only now can I say that I feel better: I worry less, want to plan something, want to change something in life. Not long ago, I just wanted to be left alone and to lie down, and for life not to throw any more difficulties. Of course, I still don’t want difficulties, but they happen — so you have to learn to deal with them.