Letter from
Katja

Minsk, Belarus

Wednesday morning, I’ve been falling asleep accompanied by the explosions of noise bombs for three days, there is a constant hum in my ears, there is still no Internet. I am preparing a white dress for me and my friend, fortunately there are fresh flowers at home. It’s not far from my house to Komarovsky market, we catch a couple of strange glances on the way, we want to get to the place as soon as possible. At first, we are not too many, apart from the white clothes and flowers, we are distinguished by an embarrassed, slightly depressed, but generally joyful spirit. We do not talk to each other, we don’t know each other’s names, there is no leader who coordinates the process. We stand in line and hold our hands, I feel a slight tingling sensation from the tips of my fingers to the top of my head, I’m shaking a little, I’m scared. This was the first action, the action of silent solidarity and pain. For me, it was a kind of transition from the position of a victim to a person who takes responsibility for his own destiny. The action triggered a strong wave throughout the country, the next day we were moving in a column of thousands across the city, meeting new groups of protesters on the way, getting to know each other, sharing common pain, looking for a way out and light. Now the protest is gaining momentum, more and more people are choosing to live honestly according to the law and not according to the concepts. Every day someone is detained, fired, called for interrogations, intimidated, almost the entire company of the country’s main national theater is fired. After August 9, a lump of pain settled in my chest, and every day it becomes bigger and more dense.. For the first time I strongly experience pride in my nation, its courage, intelligence and cordiality. Meanwhile, illegitimate President Lukashenko is flying over the city with a machine gun, puts on a military uniform on his 15-year-old son and gives him a weapon, military aircrafts shoot down balloons near the Lithuanian border. All personal goals, ambitions and desires have lost all its value, there is only one thing left – I want to live freely in my country.

Katja

Larysa Hienijuš

From a strong wind gust
Apples are falling from a tree today
Heavy, like a gold bar,
On our hospitable table is a gain.
As a gift, in the palms of my hands
Antonovka is falling today.
Decorates the feast of the masses,
When the field turns white.
Solid, fragrant, juicy,
Pleases my heart and my eyes.
From a tall tree, like from the sky.
No, other “missiles” are not needed!

Letter from Katja