Reflections of a Greenpeace Climate Activist -- Alex
I trembled as I walked through the
grounds of Murmansk prison on 26 September.
Inmates watched me and the arrival of
the other 29 notorious new prisoners through their cell windows. It was pitch
black outside, but the prison was alive. Alive with the sound of barking dogs,
prison alarms and prisoners shouting through their barred windows.
A guard handed me a plastic mug, a tin
steel bowl, a spoon, a folded up mattress and a sheet. That’s all I had, that
and a toothbrush and a book in my pocket, when the guards closed the steel
green door on me. The sound of the slamming door echoed throughout the
corridor. I was alone and afraid.
As days in prison passed I became
stronger. As weeks passed I became hopeful. In prison they take away your
freedom, your dignity and your family but they can’t take away hope. That’s the
one thing they couldn’t touch and I wouldn’t let them.
I saw my lawyer twice a week. During
those visits he would pass on news, news that helped me understand how big our
case was. He may have been pretty bleak about the Russian legal system but he
was always positive about the international attention and support we were
receiving. After our visits I would have a skip to my step and I looked forward
to passing these bits of gold dust onto my friends. It felt good to pass on
hope. It also felt good that we were not alone.
I couldn’t sleep the night before my
bail hearing. I was too excited. I had spent the previous night feeling
incredibly sad after hearing Colin had been sentenced to an extra three months
in prison. Now I was in awe and dumbstruck as I watched the recent turn of
events, my friends, one by one, receiving bail on the news.
I went to court feeling pretty hopeful
that morning and I waited impatiently as the verdict was finally translated: I
had received bail. I laughed in delight and the court room full of reporters
and Greenpeace volunteers erupted in applause. Moments later I was jumping up and
down hugging my friends Faiza and Anne inside a dark, smokey holding cell.
Since leaving Russia I have been
reunited with my family. Seeing them for the first time since prison at St
Pancras was very emotional. We hugged, laughed, cried and hugged some more. I
have enjoyed the simple but incredibly precious pleasures in life such as
taking a walk in the countryside, having a drink with friends and seeing the
stars twinkle at night. Now life feels quite strange. It’s definitely quieter
as we’re not the focus of so much media attention and the stress of facing
seven years in prison has been alleviated.
Thirty of us were locked up following a
peaceful protest against the world’s first oil platform to drill in the icy
waters of the Arctic. Those 64 days in a prison cell were undoubtedly the
hardest days of my life but I have never felt as proud as I did then.
I took action on the Arctic Sunrise
because I don’t want a melting Arctic, oil spills in ice and an unlivable
planet to be my legacy for my children. I felt the luckiest person on Earth
when I stepped on board the Arctic Sunrise back in September because I had been
given an opportunity to do something that mattered.
Now, I feel even luckier. Your support
means my 29 friends and I are free, your support also means my time in prison
wasn’t spent in vain.
Thank you for standing up for me and
for the Arctic.
Alex
– one of the Arctic 30
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