This Sunday, August 9, the evening of the announcement of the victory of Alexander Lukashenko, the Russian journalist Nikita Telizhenko is in Minsk. It follows the thousands of demonstrators who came to protest against the massive fraud and the elimination of the opponent Svetlana Tikhanovskaya (now a refugee in Lithuania). It is trying to send messages to the editorial staff of the site Znak.com when police are approaching. They asked him to pull his laptop out of the hands, explaining to him that they are looking for informants of the chain Telegram. “I don’t even have Telegram on my laptop “, she defends it.
They boarded. Here it is in a van composed of three compartments. Other the join. Among them, a man of 62 years old, Nikolai. This one has had the misfortune of protest by the sight of a child will understand. Nikolay has already been hit in the kidneys. He warns that it has a medical history. But no one was paying attention. “Are we arrested ?” asks Nikita. “No, sit down and stay calm. “
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They drive 25 minutes and arrive at the police station ” Moskovskoye “. “Eyes on the ground !” their cries-t-on. And the blows rained down. Nikita receives a knee to the face. The one that precedes it has the head thrown against the door. He screams in pain. “Shut up bitch !” launches his guards continuing to hit him. They are led into a room on the fourth floor. Prisoners lie on the ground in their blood ” like a living carpet “. Nikita must walk on them to build a place. He continued to hear shots and screams. Around him, prisoners suffer bone fractures and groan at the slightest movement. Other inmates arrive and settle on the body of the first.
“get in your pants”
The police eventually bring the benches. Nikita, the hands tied in the back and the gaze always on the ground, has the permission to sit down. Hands rise up to claim the toilet. “Get in your pants “, they were told. Sixteen hours elapse as well. “When they understood that I was Russian, the blows became less strong,” he says.
At 2 o’clock in the morning, a new wave of prisoners grouped the other floors. It means the officers, requiring them to recite the Lord’s prayer. The blows fall on those who refuse. “I had the impression that they stomped it with their feet against the cement. “
Nikita is at it again lying on the ground. It captures exchanges radio among the police, apparently surprised by the determination of the protesters. A stretcher arrives. A man is deposited there without it being known whether he is still alive.
thirty in cells intended for two
In the morning, change of scenery. They are piled up in cells. They are thirty in a space intended for two people. The walls are covered in condensation. They suppress. Some lose consciousness.
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The doors finally open. And here they are again in a vehicle. Pressed against each other. This time, in the hands of members of the special forces. “Your house is a prison !” shout their new guards, of which reserve, in particular, their blows long hair, and wearers of tattoos. “You fags, they are going to take turns with your ass !” throw-they. Prohibition of moving. It warns that any movement will be seen as an attempt to escape and come upon the spot.
An hour later, the convoy starts. En route, the police officers forced them to sing the national anthem. They are filming on their phones. New moves for the recalcitrant. “Fucking morons, you are here while your Tikhanovskaya you fucked when you leave the country. “Nikita manages to exchange it with one of them. “The soviet Union was a great country and she is dead because of fags like you… We will never let Belarus become part of Russia. “
“Stop torture us, shoot us over !” launches a young-to-end. “You didn’t tireras not like that,” replied the other. They roll up for two and a half hours, without knowing their fate. “Everything was possible “, says Nikita.
the end of The nightmare
A new jail, located at Jodzina, to the east of Minsk, is waiting with more police officers, with dogs. A scary moment. But the conditions are best. They are gathered in a courtyard. Strokes interrupt. They can finally stretch their legs. It provides them with a bucket and a litre and a half of water for up to 25 people. “You will no longer beat us today ?” asks one inmate. “No, you’ll regain your cells, and that’s all,” replied one. For the first time, they may even discuss among themselves. Nikita Telizhenko will inform on his companions. He discovers that some are engineers or work in high technology. Others are simple workers.
The Russian journalist will finally be released with one of his compatriots of the State agency Ria Novosti. But all the other prisoners will not have this chance. In the absence of foreign journalists, the regime may continue to do as it pleases in its jails.
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