“Why would people like you get married?”

The love of my life is a witness in my case—a witness of the prosecution. She did not choose this—she was faced with a fact that she must be one. It makes no sense to me that the investigator who was at our home and saw our family photos could think it possible.

Sonya and I have been together for almost six years. At its every stage, our relationship has been a free and mature choice of two adults. During all these years, we have been there for each other both in euphoric joy and hardships. And there has been enough of real human hardships that came our way: crises, the isolation during COVID, depressions, deaths of Sonya’s closest relatives—and now, my criminal prosecution.

Like every couple, we had our arguments, but always found a way to compromise and reconcile. We solved our conflicts through dialogue or with the help of a family therapist (if things got especially difficult). We shared our domestic routine, we helped each other financially, we cared for each other in sickness. We were raising two wonderful cats. We could say a lot of things to each other in the heat of argument, but there was never any physical violence in our relationship, even though both of us came from troubled households. And we never cheated on each other.

We talked a lot about the possibility of marriage. And in some other country, we would have long been legal partners. Many people exclaim rhetorically, “Why would people like you get married?”, “Stay quiet and don’t stick your necks out!” as said one of the investigation committee representatives who conducted the search at our home.

Here is why: in order to have a legal opportunity not to testify against your closest, most dear, most beloved person in court. When the testimony of your other half might be used to take you into custody… there are no words to describe the frustration and fury from knowing that. I cannot even imagine what my dear Sonya is feeling right now!

The nasty bonus here is that the witness status makes it difficult for us to get a meeting before the sentence is pronounced. Even if I am under house arrest, I won’t be able to embrace the person dearest to me—what did I do to deserve a punishment like this? Sonya won’t be able to come and see me at the detention center, won’t be on the list of people whom I’ll be able to call. And the same will continue in any place of confinement where they threaten to send me for 10 years, because under no circumstances will Sonya be considered my close relative in this country.

Another sad thing in this situation is that Sonya is far from being indifferent to my fate. She loves me with all her heart and every single day, sacrificing hours of sleep—which she needs for her health!—she is fighting for my release, recording statements, giving interviews, writing letters and complaints, bringing me unwieldy parcels. She did not renounce me because of my criminal status or the fear of becoming a victim of the persecution herself—and all kinds of things can happen to people! I am so unbelievably lucky to be with her! I wonder if every heterosexual woman is so lucky to be with their legal spouse.

Nevertheless, this whole situation seems to be a logical consequence from the didactic lecture one of the investigation committee representatives gave me. On the way to conduct the search at our home, he yelled at me, “When are you going to come to your senses, get a proper husband and children?!”

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