Ukrainian
filmmaker Oleg Sentsov was born in Simferopol, Crimea. He is also a dramatist,
a writer and an activist. In May 2014, under Vladimir Putin’s Orwellian regime,
he was arrested in Crimea due to false accusations. The FSB (Russian Secret Services)
persecuted dissidents; the Kremlin hates opponents of the Russian Propaganda.
Oleg Sentsov opposed the Russian invasion of
Eastern Ukraine and his only “crime” was to bring food and supplies to the
Ukrainian soldiers trapped in Crimean bases, but the FSB accused him of being a
terrorist. He was beaten, tortured, suffocated and forced to confess, but he
never gave in. Oleg Sentsov stood by his principles. He was sentenced to 20
years in prison in Russia.
Oleg
Sentsov became a symbol of the Russian’s state disregard for human dignity and
basic human rights. International Human Rights organizations condemned his
imprisonment and considered it a way of the Russian Government to quash
dissent.
In 2018
Oleg Sentsov went on a hunger strike for 145 days to advocate for the release
of 70 Ukrainian political prisoners in Russia. This was an incredible act of courage. As
a consequence of this, he lost 66 pounds, but he was also awarded the Sakharov
Prize for Freedom of Thought by the European Parliament. Thankfully, he was released in September 2019.
Oleg Sentsov’s Life Went on Anyway, translated by Uillean Blacker, shares life
vignettes of his childhood and youth. His writing style is honest and
straightforward. He does not sugarcoat
his experiences, but neither does he dwell on them with pessimism.
His
life stories may have carved the path of his activism in his adult years. They
sound simple. Yet you may find yourself reflecting on them after you finish the
read.
Life
Went on Anyway is not about Sentsov’s activism, even though the translator
provides an introduction and a background to help us understand the political
situation.
Sentsov introduces himself by explaining that
he had a happy childhood, and he did if you consider the love of his family and
his dog, and the community of friends in his neighborhood, where he played
outdoors until it got dark. However, his childhood years also had a sad side,
which may have molded the fabric of his current resilience.
His
attitude toward school was ambiguous. “I
liked school, but not for long. I liked studying, but not necessarily going to
school. The Soviet education broke me down with its routine, its rote learning,
its ponderous lessons as thick as tar. I liked gymnastics, woodwork and
metalwork, and the breaks, when you at least had some kind of freedom.”
He also
loved literature and history. However, his teachers did not welcome his inquisitive
nature. The teachers sent him out of the class often for asking too many
questions that nobody else asked.
“I spent
half of my literature and history classes in the corridor.” He had the
highest grades and wrote remarkable essays, which the teachers liked to read
aloud, but the other students were not impressed.
Starting in fourth grade, he became an outcast
among his peers. The other students mocked him and ridiculed him regularly, and
nobody stood up for him. He endured five years of humiliation in school,
fighting the bullies and defending himself however he could. He never told his
mother about this, but she could sense something, and she suggested that he
could change schools. (This never happened, however, and the bullying lasted
five years).
“In
class, in the corridor, in the changing-room, in the sports hall, in the
canteen, in the toilet, in the park behind the school, everywhere. Five years
of hell.”
Life went on, and the bullying eventually
stopped. In his book Oleg gives advice to his younger self…and I will let you
search for his wise advice when you get to read his book.
Another
past event that may have left a deep imprint in him happened in a hospital. When
Oleg was thirteen he had a tonsillectomy. During his hospital stay he witnessed
how a boy mocked a child with Down syndrome. Oleg observed what happened and
was silent about it then, but the scene stayed with him. Oleg never forgot how
a child with Down syndrome had been humiliated.
All these experiences may have shaped the
activist he is today.
Oleg Sentsov is now fighting in Ukraine against the Russian
invasion.
Wherever he is, I hope he is safe. I also look
forward to watching his films and to reading more of his works.
Sentsov’s works include two books of short
stories, several scripts, plays, essays, and films. In 2016 he was awarded the
Taras Shevchenko National Prize of Ukraine, the country’s highest honor for
artistic achievement. In 2017 he received the PEN/Barbey Freedom to write award.
To end this post I will share some informative
thought-provoking articles:
https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-60891801
