Uladzimer Mikhalka was one of thousands of Belarusians arrested during the mass protests that broke out following the country's discredited 2020 presidential election. He was sentenced to 14 months in prison for purportedly insulting strongman leader Alyaksandr Lukashenka and a police officer.
He served his time and was released earlier this year. But his troubles did not end there, he told RFE/RL's Belarus Service. Even before he arrived home, he was hit with a fine from the state tax service for 20,000 rubles ($8,000).
"While I was in prison, the tax service was 'working' hard," he said. "They audited me for the last 10 years…. I got the notice delivered to my prison cell."
Mikhalka is one of dozens of pro-democracy activists who have been released this year following the completion of their prison terms. In all, some 253 former political prisoners have been released, according the Vyasna human rights group. And many of them tell RFE/RL the authoritarian Lukashenka government continues to persecute them and their relatives, making it all but impossible for them to live in the country.
In all, Vyasna says, 1,480 designated political prisoners are still being held in Belarus, many of them for activities related to the democracy movement that followed the 2020 election in which Lukashenka claimed a landslide victory while opponents, voters, and Western governments charged that the vote was rigged in his favor.
Since his release, the police in Mikhalka's hometown of Rechytsa in the southeastern Homel region have hounded him relentlessly, he said.
"I have been being followed as if I were a terrorist or extremist," he said. "The police have searched my home, and every week I have to check in with them for a 'prophylactic' chat" -- a term used by the authorities to describe meetings used to monitor people they want to keep tabs on.
"They tell me that black is white and vice versa," Mikhalka added. "They tell me how great things are in Belarus and that I am mistaken if I think otherwise."
The police also insisted Mikhalka find a full-time job, but when he tried he found few opportunities for a former prisoner. He was offered shift work as a street sweeper or a gravedigger.
"In the end, I got a job as a guard," he recalled. "But after three months' work, I was paid 140 rubles ($55)."
The rest, he explained, had been seized by the government to pay his tax fine.
"Fines, searches, no work!" he concluded. "That's why I decided to leave. Especially since I started getting letters from the prosecutor's office again."
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Activists with the Belarus Solidarity Foundation (BySol) helped Mikhalka get out of the country and seek refuge in the European Union.
"I'm very grateful to those guys," he said, "because it was impossible for me to live there any longer."
Mahilyou resident Valyantsin Labachou was also released earlier this year after serving his sentence for purportedly insulting Lukashenka at a prison in the Vitsebsk region. Initially, he was ordered to report to the police once a month; later, once a week.
Former prisoners are required to appear regularly before a monitoring commission, Labachou said. He added that the head of the commission told him if he doesn't get a job or leave the country, he would be sent back to prison.
"These commissions are a circus," he concluded. "Officials from various agencies get together and mess with your head."
Labachou added that he told his commission that he intends to leave Belarus.
"They didn't mind because it would be less work for them," he said. "I think their goal is to push people out of the country."
One woman who asked that her name be withheld for fear of repercussions for speaking out told RFE/RL that both she and her husband have been targeted since she was released from a prison in the Homel region.
He couldn't find any work, even as a day laborer, she said.
"After all, he has an 'extremist' wife," the woman said. "He can only work occasional shifts. No one will hire him officially."
She also must check in regularly with the police where she and other "extremists" are shown propaganda films.
"We are forced to sign that we watched them and discussed them [with the police]," she said. "It is madness."
"The police can come and check you at any time of the day or night," she added. "Sometimes they don't show up for weeks. And then they start coming every day. They are pushing me to get a job, but the only one I'm offered is milking cows at a collective farm. But I told the police I won't go there."