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"The cell had a TV and spies." Ukrainian woman returns from Belarusian prison

A Chernihiv transporter in Belarus was accused of espionage and extremism and sentenced to nine years in prison. She recently returned home on an exchange program and spoke about her time in a Belarusian prison.

Читати українською

Return of Ukrainian from Belorussian prison

"I lost ten kilograms over the entire time. And after my detention — in six days in the temporary detention center — by five. Because there I didn't eat anything at all. I was always sleeping," recalls 44-year-old Nataliia Zakharenko from the town of Kyinka near Chernihiv.

She and nine other civilian prisoners were exchanged on the day of the Constitution of Ukraine. Ukrainians handed over three Russian soldiers and a priest.

Before the full-scale invasion, Nataliia earned her living by trading. She used to transport horseradish, mustard, and spices from Ukraine to Belarus, and from there, she brought products to Chernihiv to sell.

In the second half of 2022, she went to the evacuation center in Mozyr and helped Ukrainians who had left for Belarus during the occupation return home, both for free and for a fee.

In her minibus, Mercedes Vito, she transported people, their belongings, cats, and dogs. She also delivered parcels, money, documents, and medicines. She traveled from Chernihiv to Mozyr via Zhytomyr, Rivne, Lutsk, Polish cities, and Brest.

On July 18, 2023, Nataliia was detained in Belarus and accused of espionage. In March 2024, a Gomel court sentenced Nataliia to nine years in prison and ordered the confiscation of her minibus. Here is her direct speech.

Nataliia Zakharenko from Chernihiv region after her release from prison
Nataliia Zakharenko from Chernihiv region after her release from prison

A year and a half in prison for a like

The light in the cell was on all the time, it was unclear whether it was day or night. There was no clock. For the first three days, I was kept in a cell with six women. They were imprisoned for non-payment of alimony and for posting likes on social networks that the authorities did not like. A person wrote "racists" somewhere and got a year. If you wrote a comment on the Internet, you got two and a half years, if you liked it, you got a year and a half.

I had heard about what was going on in their country before, but I had no idea that I could end up in prison there. Their accusations are nonsense.

In prison, I thought about my mother, worried that she didn't know where I was and that it could affect her health. I realized that she was looking for me. That's why I wrote three applications to the Belarusian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, asking them to tell my mother where I was. The answer was that there was no connection with Ukraine; the embassy was closed. There was nothing we could do to help.

Calls to me were banned. At first, I was put in solitary confinement for three days. Probably to prevent me from asking anyone for help or passing on anything. The KGB was in charge of me, rare cunts. You can write it that way.

When I was transferred to the pre-trial detention center on July 25, I was in the same cell with murderers and drug addicts. And also Larysa Shchyryakou, a journalist from Belsat (the only independent TV channel broadcasting in Belarusian — Author). They treated people like me, "political" prisoners, well. They shared with me food, soap, and detergents.

They gave me food: oatmeal in the morning, barley with milk, tea with sugar. But I didn't drink it because they said it contained bromine. It's not a fact that the food was bromine-free either (it has a calming effect, reduces concentration and physical activity, and can cause poisoning — Ed.) For lunch, we had pea soup, borscht, cabbage soup. Porridge or potatoes with stew. Porridge for dinner.

There was no such thing as being from Ukraine and us not giving you anything. Later, when my friend Larysa Krupa brought me parcels, I shared cigarettes and tea with them (later, she was also arrested and fined for not reporting Natalia — Ed.).

We even had a TV in the cell for a month and a half. There were five programs on. You could watch any program or movie. I don't even know why. Maybe there was a "working" person in the cell (a "sitting duck"). Nobody asked me why I was there and what I was doing. I did not tell them myself because I was immediately warned about non-disclosure. For disclosure, there is also a term.

The guards treated the 'political' prisoners differently. Some prisoners were forced to report to the convoy every hour - to say their name, surname, and what article they were serving. They had to add something: "Prone to extremist and other destructive activities."

A lawyer for 4 thousand euros

My health deteriorated: my eyesight fell, my back hurt. My blood pressure was rising. I waited from 6:00 to 21:30 for it to be measured. You put your hand in the "feeder" and they measure it haphazardly. Pills were not always easy to get.

Eventually, my mother found out where I was. I was even allowed to write her letters. I wrote that everything was fine, that I was not hungry. Otherwise, the message would not have gone beyond the detention center. My friend Larysa Krupa took pictures of these letters and sent them to my mother via the Internet. There is no postal service with Belarus.

I was assigned a free lawyer. After our second meeting on behavior, I realized that she was cooperating with the KGB. So I refused.

I wrote to my mother to find me a Belarusian-paid lawyer. We paid four thousand euros for his services. But he immediately warned me: "I give no guarantees. I will do what I can." There are lawyers there who are afraid to breathe wrong.

The security forces wanted to recruit me

I had been traveling to Belarus for 20 years, selling food. In 2011, the Belarusian security forces at the Dobryanka checkpoint wanted me to cooperate with them, to turn in other food carriers. I refused. Then I received three administrative reports: for not wearing a seatbelt, speeding, and excessive transportation of goods. And then I was banned from entering Belarus for five years. But in 2016, I returned to traveling.

The trial began on the day of my 44th birthday. Journalists could not attend it. The proceedings were closed. So that no one could hear that there was no evidence. The case against me was fabricated out of nothing. They probably earned stars for their shoulder straps. Judge Anatoliy Sotnikov and prosecutor Irina Podkovyrkina were determined to convict.

"Before the verdict was announced, my heart sank. I asked for some valerian. I took eight pills. When they announced nine years in prison, my lawyer was shocked. He did not expect such a harsh decision. I wanted to scream: "Glory to Ukraine!". But I was afraid that they would add five years. If it wasn't for the sedative, I don't know what would have happened. When I returned to the cell, I was in a stupor, in shock. And then the realization: nine years in prison. Those who were sitting with me on political charges reassured me: "Nataliia, it's easier for you. You can be exchanged."

"Five minutes to gather"

In May, I was classified as an extremist. The Court of Appeal upheld the verdict. I was waiting to be sent to the colony. My suitcases were packed.

On June 13, they took us to the shower. I came out and was told: "Five minutes to get ready". I did not understand what was happening. I took out my mattress and things. They allowed me to take the things that were in the warehouse (my cards, two thousand hryvnias, keys).

They brought me to the basement, gave me my things, my passport, and board games. Larysa gave me chess and bingo. More than one set per person is not allowed. That's why they didn't let them through. By the way, Larysa Shchyryakova taught me to play chess in the detention center.

They took me outside, and there were three masked men standing there. The head of the detention center, Rubanov, came out. I started to panic.

I asked: "Who are you?". He answered: "Everything is fine. The main thing is that you are leaving the detention center". They did not put on handcuffs. They said: "There is no need". They brought me to my apartment in Minsk. Then they took me to the field. They were waiting for someone. Later we were taken to a recreation center, where we stayed until June 22. They fed me. I asked for milk - they gave it to me. If I wanted ice cream, they brought it.

When I went to the shower, they said: "Don't close the door. We will not come in". It all seemed like a dream.

On June 22, they took me out of the house, put one bag over my head, then another. My hands were tied with construction ties so that I could not move. They brought me somewhere and transferred me to another car. We stopped in the woods. They took me out. They untied my hands. They did not take off the bags. They said: "You will be home in an hour".

When we arrived, they took off the bags. I turned my head and saw an inscription: "Ukraine". I wanted to fall to the ground and kiss it. But I was afraid. A masked man with a machine gun was standing in front of me. I thought he would shoot me. They brought us in a car without license plates.

There were already four of us. My hands were shaking so much that I couldn't drink water, I spilled it on my T-shirt.

We were exchanged for three captured Russian soldiers and a priest, he was in a wheelchair. We crossed the border. Then we were all put into a helicopter. And we flew away. It was like a blockbuster.

I could not sleep for two nights afterwards. I was overwhelmed with emotions.

I was able to call my mother only on June 28, when the president announced that we had been exchanged. Before that, they were waiting for six people to be exchanged with Russia. Psychologists worked with us. After captivity, a person can shut down and withdraw. We went to look at the river and talked. I had the impression that I was sleeping and they couldn't wake me up.

My mother came for me on July 2. We could not stop talking. There were tears of happiness.

I went to Chernihiv — so many people, cars! I was confused, I didn't know where to put my hands. Either hold them like in a detention center or hide them in your pocket.

My minibus stayed in Belarus. After all, they gave me not only nine years, but also a fine, which is about 20 thousand dollars in terms of conversion. The car was arrested as collateral for the fine. It was valued at 13 thousand dollars. They added another 6 thousand dollars, which were taken from me after the arrest. The car was taken illegally because I am not its owner, but my mother. But I am unlikely to be able to return it.

The first thing I did upon my return was to update my tattoo. I had a black lizard on my left arm. I made it green (Nataliia has an inscription on her right arm up to the elbow: "My life is my rules"). I am the kind of person who will not adapt to anyone. I do everything as I see fit.

Another Chernihiv resident, 37-year-old Andrii Shmey, a former border guard who worked as a housekeeper in the Vitebsk Regional Executive Committee, remained in the Belarusian prison. He was charged under two serious articles of the Belarusian Criminal Code: espionage and agent activity.

This article was originally written in Ukrainian. It has been translated into English using AI tools such as DeepL, ChatGPT, and Grammarly. If you encounter an error that requires immediate attention, please inform us via Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. Your understanding and support are appreciated.

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