I have been on Hrushevskoho street for a few days in a row now. And each day someone has called me and asked what’s going on, usually starting with: “Katia, I just heard…” Being tired, as I have stayed continually within the information area, I am sometimes tempted to answer impolitely, but I pull myself together and start reporting events, adding at the end – JUST GO THERE.
These past few days, for the first time in my life, I have felt like a creature with female reactions (however ridiculous that might sound), since I don’t seem to have been feeling anything recently.
There have been moments when I wanted to forget that I was a journalist and simply wanted to give someone a hug, some water, something to eat, or just go with those who were risking their health to make a positive change in this country. And each time on Hrushevskoho, I have come across fellow journalists from the channel “Inter” who were telling a story of a DIFFERENT country. It seems like we are living in two different nations. In my country, concerned citizens are suffering, and in theirs, “malicious right radicals are attacking Berkut.”
Consider those who have had their eyes injured, including journalists. They show metal, not rubber bullets. Their tears are rolling. Their reality is now the lack of an eye. Just imagine! AN EYE! Nonetheless, some people still seem to believe that there is a president in our country who manages to settle things.
I am a child of independence. I haven’t experienced cases of imprisonment in my time. TV, speaking of a “happy childhood,” hasn’t been deceitful. But now I have come to realize that the infamous Soviet rules of the game, those which I have read and heard about, are becoming a common reality.
Not that it may selectively affect any one person, not just because of a war against journalists (it is difficult to imagine whatsoever honoring our profession within the Kolesnichenko – Oleinik laws), not only because of violence against particularly passionate individuals, but in view of the laws for everyone. Perhaps, those who have experienced life underground, the dissidents who fought the dictatorship all their lives, might find it easier to return to their methods of struggle. But what should we do, we young people, who have never known such times?
Yes, there are many victims in Hrushevskoho street. Explosions are heard, journalists are still working, (practically in fire), but when I am there, I am not afraid. For what the Party of Regions has been doing to all of us these years has been much worse. One person inquires about his or her family, while another goes home, remembering not to go alone. One writes about events and his or her every word is a crime. The fact of one’s existence on Hrushevskoho is a crime.
I am a woman. I am a journalist. I am a citizen. I am a simple person. I’m not familiar with the logic of those who have kicked activists. I don’t know about inertia, about when the tolerance limit has been passed. I do not understand those who expect something different from the current authorities. What do they expect? My reality is different!
You can write – do it, you can fight – it’s your right and choice, you can support morally – do it, you can bring medicine, food – it’s also a big help.
After all, a slave is born exclusively in one’s mind – we create the rules of the game ourselves. And it is up to us to succeed in the abolition of the laws of 16 January. For the people are the real power in this country.
In my reality there are no sides. There is our country – Ukraine, where to speak and act freely is not a request or a benefit, but a natural right. I am not afraid. I am in my place.