This interview is available in Belarusian and is part of a series produced by The Barys Zvozskau Belarusian Human Rights House and Viasna Human Rights Centre in cooperation with Human Rights House Foundation, featuring five Belarusian human rights defenders: Ales Bialiatski, Uladzimir Labkovich, Nasta Loika, Marfa Rabkova, and Valiantsin Stefanovic.

When did you feel truly free again after your release?

For the first three months after my release, I couldn’t sleep at night. I had this irrational fear that as soon as I fell asleep, as soon as I lost control of what was happening, the KGB would kidnap me, and I would end up back in prison.

Every night I fought against sleep, trying not to let myself fall asleep. 

Anyway, sometime around 3 a.m., completely exhausted, I would fall asleep, but by 6 in the morning I would wake up after having the same dream: everyone had been released except me. They had forgotten me behind bars. I was afraid of every night coming.

Everything somehow turned upside down. In prison, it is the opposite: you wait for sleep as a kind of rescue, and you fall asleep immediately. Dreams are the best thing behind bars, because there, in my dreams, I was free; I saw my family. Outside prison, everything was different. This went on for about the first three months, and then at some point it suddenly stopped, as if someone had switched something off inside me.

From time to time, the dreams come back. Now they have a different storyline. I haven’t been forgotten in prison; I have been put back there. But this happens extremely rarely, when something has “triggered” me, reminded me of imprisonment.

Now I sleep well. Sometimes I even wish I could sleep less, because there is catastrophically little time. That is another difference from prison, because in prison you kill time by any means you can. Time is your main enemy there. You have to kill it. Here it is the opposite; there is never enough time to catch up on the time you lost: time with your family, time for learning.

For a long time after my release, I couldn’t read books. Because in prison, reading is the opposite; it is the brightest moment; I hid in books from the grim reality around me. But once I was free, at first it was the opposite again. Every book in my hands was prison. Only now are books coming back to me. Step by step. But I still can’t watch films. In many ways I have it much easier than many other political prisoners, because immediately after my release and deportation I found myself with my family, my wife and children. That gave me enormous support.

But even now I don’t feel free. I often get this feeling that I am late, that everything around me is foreign. The first three months were the hardest.

It has already been seven months since my release, but I still don’t feel free. I have returned to human rights work, I am trying to work at Viasna, but often it is emotionally very hard and I want to give it all up. I am incredibly grateful to my colleagues and friends for their patience, warmth and support. When Ales Bialiatski and I talked about this, he said that it simply takes more time. At least a year. I hope so. That means soon I may finally be able to feel truly free.

How difficult was it for you to leave Belarus? Do you hope to return?

It wasn’t difficult for me to leave Belarus. I only realised this when I was expelled from the country, when I was forcibly handed over to representatives of Ukraine wearing a hat pulled down over my eyes and taped in place. This is how I was released from prison. It was easier for me because I did not have to face that terrible choice, although I understood that “…at the end of this path stands, grimly, the inevitable shadow of exile.”

My first days in exile were full of joy and freedom, and of waiting for the chance to see my family and friends. There was an enormous contrast between prison in Belarus and freedom outside its borders. So far I don’t feel nostalgic. People with experience tell me that, yes, this is how it is, during the first year you don’t feel it, these feelings begin after a year. We will see.

But I would very much like to return to Belarus, and I would very much like everything to change. This hope inspires me and helps me continue my human rights work.

Why do you continue to fight for human rights?

I believe that human rights means being on the side of good. It is a very important mission for society, for humanity as a whole. Because human rights are freedom and justice.

I believe that in Belarus too, human rights will become a principle of how society lives. Many societies have gone through a difficult path before understanding that humanism and human rights are the best way to live together.

And now human rights are under attack around the world. Totalitarian forms of government are returning. Human rights have to be defended and protected, both in everyday life and in the public sphere.

I believe our mission is still going on. Many challenges lie ahead, but there will also be victories.

What gives you hope for the future?

When I was behind bars, I imagined that the Belarusian human rights movement had almost come to an end, that only a few people were left writing about political prisoners, and that was it.

When I was released, I was amazed to discover that reality was completely different. Young people have come into human rights work. It is a completely new generation, with new ideas and new approaches, but also with the same commitment to the mission of a human rights defender.

I am endlessly grateful to those who kept human rights work going, and that is why it matters to me every day to be there too, to continue my own mission.

What gives me hope for the future is this new generation of human rights defenders and the whole Belarusian human rights scene.

What is the most important thing you would like to say to the readers of this piece?

I’d like to add a little optimism.

We are living through a difficult time: wars, attacks on human rights, a time when the voices of autocrats can be heard even in democratic countries.

But the ideal of a just society is still there: a society where everyone can live safely regardless of who they are, where those in power are elected and held accountable, and where justice protects people’s rights.

Every society deserves to be free. Human rights will win in the end.

What would you say to human rights defenders from different countries who are currently in prison, including those in Belarus?

So many very decent and courageous human rights defenders around the world are behind bars.

Our Viasna volunteers: Vital Chopik, Sviatlana Yakubovich, Stanislau Machalau, and Uladzimir Tseliapun, a human rights defender from Mazyr.

In my mind, I want to take each of them by the hand and tell them to hold on. This captivity will end, and there will be many joyful moments.

I also often think of the well-known Azerbaijani human rights defender Anar Mammadli, who was sentenced to 13 years in prison. He is a brave and sincere person. He took part in solidarity actions when people from Viasna were behind bars. I very much hope that international pressure will work here too, and that we will manage to secure his release.

It is also important to remember the human rights defenders who are currently in Russian prisons.

I wish them all strength and good health.

Everything will be all right.