If you draw up a military calendar of modern Chechen history, perhaps not a single month will contain a couple of days in a row that are not marked by tragic dates - crimes of the Russian military against the civilian population of Chechnya.
Like now in Ukraine. It’s as if a serial killer who shed blood in “his own home” (as the whole world perceived it then) has now gone to do his favorite thing around the neighborhood.

In October 1999, the food market, the central maternity hospital and other civilian objects in the Chechen capital were fired upon with surface-to-surface tactical missiles. Many media outlets wrote about this. However, this is not the only “achievement” of the Russian army that month.

On February 24, 2005, the European Court of Human Rights issued decisions on complaints from residents of Chechnya, in which the plaintiffs described the atrocities of the Russian military. Those events, as Memorial notes, were not “isolated random excesses,” but only examples of a huge number of systematically committed mass crimes.

Three of these complaints were filed by people who were victims of a rocket attack on a column of refugees near the village of Shaami-Yurt.
Let us remind you: on October 22, 1999, the Russian military imposed a ban on the departure of civilians from Chechnya. 4 days later, the Russian media announced that from October 29, a “humanitarian corridor” would be opened for travel to Ingushetia. It was supposed to pass through the Kavkaz-1 checkpoint, equipped on the Rostov-Baku highway near the administrative border of Chechnya and Ingushetia. Thousands of people decided to take advantage of this opportunity.

On October 29, cargo and passenger vehicles began to accumulate at the Russian checkpoint on the Rostov-Baku highway not far from the Chechen-Ingush administrative border from early morning. Refugees on foot also approached. People tried to leave the combat zone, which by that time had become the entire Chechen Republic. At about 11:00 a Russian officer came out to the crowd and said that they had no orders to let anyone through. The corridor to Ingushetia, the opening of which has already been announced in all Russian media, according to him, will not function on this day and he allegedly does not know when this will happen. The next day, the next day or even a week later - anything can happen! The officer demanded that the section of the road adjacent to the checkpoint be cleared and that everyone go home until further notice.
Meanwhile, the cars continued to arrive. They lined up along the entire width of the road in several rows and stretched, according to the testimony of the people who were there at that time, 15 kilometers deep into Chechnya. The column began to turn around, but extremely slowly - it was necessary for the cars and people far behind to clear the road and leave.
That day it was drizzling lightly in the morning. A fog hung over the column, which stretched along a large forest area, forest belts and gardens approaching the road. Closer to noon, it began to dissipate, and the sun appeared through its disintegrating shreds. In the cleared sky, the refugees saw Russian attack aircraft. For the last two months they have been flying over the republic constantly, and at first no one paid much attention to them. But the attack aircraft began to patrol the column of refugees. Then they unexpectedly descended and in the area of the village of Shaami-Yurt, near the bridge at the exit of the Rostov-Baku highway from the Samashki forest, they first fired rockets, and then, turning around for a second approach, fired at people scattering in different directions from aircraft cannons and machine guns.
According to the International Red Cross, the cynical attack resulted in the death of at least 25 people. About 70 more were injured of varying degrees of severity.
The Russian side tried to explain the incident as “machine gun fire on the plane,” which was allegedly fired from a column of refugees. They say that the “militants” drove into her in a KamAZ vehicle and opened fire. Witnesses and victims denied this. According to them, no shots were fired at the attack aircraft, and there were civilians in the cars they attacked. Moreover, employees of the Chechen branch of the International Red Cross were also attacked. Two of them died. All five ICRC vehicles were clearly marked, and the organization's emblem was also painted on the roof of the truck. It was impossible not to notice her from the air.
Among the dead were Chechen television workers Ramzan Mezhidov and Shamil Gigaev. They were near the village of Shaami-Yurt and filmed a column of cars and trucks lined up on the highway towards Ingushetia. According to other sources, they also tried to leave Chechnya and, like all other refugees, tried to return to Grozny when they were turned away at the checkpoint.
Ramzan Mezhidov's leg and arm were torn off. He died on the way to the hospital. Shamil Gigaev died on the spot.

Testimony of Libkan Bazaeva (recorded in April 2000):

"After the Staropromyslovsky district of the city of Grozny was bombed and fired at with Earth-to-Earth missiles, staying in the city was tantamount to death. The whole family decided to leave the city. There were reports on radio and television, on ORT and RTR TV channels that On October 29, humanitarian corridors for refugees to exit will open.

Since the bombing of the city was massive, we left the city on the 26th, came to our relatives in the village of Gekhi and there we waited for the onset of the 29th. On October 29 at six o'clock in the morning we drove out onto the highway leading to Nazran. When we arrived at the scene, our vehicles were in the column of the 384th and 385th. Behind us there was a line of cars 3-4 times larger than the one in front. According to our calculations, many more thousands of all kinds of cars have accumulated there. The column consisted of cars and trucks, large and small buses.

People asked the military when they would be allowed through. At first they said that the corridor would be open at 9 o’clock. Then the answers became vague. The soldiers said that they themselves did not know: they say, the officer went somewhere to resolve the issue, they were only waiting for a command, an order. This went on for a long time, then a military man, probably an officer, came out to the people crowding at the checkpoint. He announced that the corridor would not open today, and it was unknown when it would be opened. And in an orderly tone he demanded that the road be cleared immediately. Outraged and confused people slowly began to turn their cars around. The column moved, but slowly, with difficulty, since the cars stood in three rows and traffic jams formed every now and then.

The rain that had been falling since the morning stopped, the sky cleared of clouds and the sun came out. It was already more than 11 o’clock when our cars approached the village of Shaami-Yurt. We were driving two cars - a white Zhiguli and a blue UAZ.

My husband and his friend and I were in the first car; my son, two of my husband’s nephews and the wife of one of them were in the second. It so happened that our UAZ was several cars behind us. And so, when we approached a small bridge near Shaami-Yurt, explosions were suddenly heard. Our car was thrown to the left side of the road, all the windows shattered. A mass of broken glass, earth and stones fell on me from behind through the rear window. We jumped out of the car. I realized that the first of four bombs had fallen behind our car and, since my son and his cousins were driving somewhere behind, I rushed back to look for him. I saw that everyone who could move was either hiding in the ditches along the road or running across the field away from the highway. I was probably in a state of shock because I felt neither fear nor horror at that moment. I just wanted to find my son’s car and run to him. And so, when I, gasping for breath, ran along this road, I saw: the first was a red Zhiguli car - a dead or wounded man was sitting behind the wheel, a woman next to him was screaming, calling for help, then there was a large bus like "Laz", its rear part - almost a third - was completely cut off and the bodies of the dead and wounded lay on the road. In the front part of the bus, the wounded or killed remained in the seats in a motionless position. Next stood a dark gray ambulance type car, which was opened at the top like a tin can. Next to these two cars, the bodies of people lay across the entire width, many were dismembered into pieces. I saw arms and legs separately. Further on the right side of the road there was a KAMAZ. I didn’t see what was behind its sides, but blood was flowing from the cracks of the body.

I probably ran about a hundred meters, and in this area, according to my ideas, there were probably from forty to fifty corpses lying.

When I ran up to my son’s car, I saw him crawling out of the ditch with a wounded child in his arms; it was a girl of seven to nine years old. I saw that she was mortally wounded, the back of her head was crushed. He put her in his car and shouted to me: “Mom, I’ll take her to the Achkhoy-Martan hospital.” At this time, a young guy appeared from the ditch and shouted: “There’s another girl here who’s wounded, take her away.” My son and his cousins picked up the wounded girl and also carried her to the car. The guy who was pointing at her was also shot in the arm, but he was standing. He was also put into the car, and they quickly turned towards Achkhoy-Martan. All this happened very quickly, I only had time to shout to them that we were alive, but our rear tires of the car were punctured.

They left with the wounded, I ran back to the car, again observing the dead and wounded along the road. We put some old woman in our car, who was rushing around in search of help, and decided to pull off the road, since the planes could return at any minute. Somehow we got to Shaami-yurt on disk and drove into the village. The villagers rushed out to meet us, they quickly brought two tires from somewhere and replaced our broken ones. After that, we drove along a country road to Gekhi, from where we hit the road in the morning. We didn’t have time to agree on anything with our son, but we hoped that he would come to Gekhi from the Achkhoy-Martan hospital without going to the highway. We began to wait for him, but he did not come. At this time we saw that planes were flying over the highway again and again and bombing almost every 10-15 minutes. 6 hours passed in such tense anticipation, and we internally prepared for the worst. After seven in the evening, when it was already dark and the planes stopped flying, our relatives appeared in the yard without a car, in torn clothes. And they told us what happened.

Leaving the wounded in the hospital, they returned to the track, thinking that we were still there, with a broken car. When they reached Khambirzi, they saw planes flying over them, and jumped out of the car and rushed into a ditch. People also ran out of the cars that were driving behind us. The first blow destroyed our car, the second hit a ditch on the other side of the road, where people from other cars were hiding, trying to escape. They realized that the planes would fly in again and again and hunt for people, and they began to run from one pit to another towards the village of Khambirzi. So they ran to Khambirzi and hid there in the basement of a house. We waited until 6 pm until the bombing stopped, and after that we returned to Gekhi on foot.

Our car was completely destroyed by a direct hit, and our belongings (clothing, bedding), of course, were also destroyed.

That’s how it happened that we miraculously remained alive among hundreds of those killed...”
At the same time that refugees were dying at Shaami-Yurt, a similar tragedy unfolded at the Goryacheistochnenskaya station. On the morning of the same October 29, a column of 30 vehicles with refugees left Argun, the village of Staraya Sunzha and others in a northerly direction. Every car had a white flag. Things were packed into the backs of trucks (the majority of them were in the convoy), and children, women, and old people were sitting on them. Even from a great distance it was impossible not to notice that civilians were driving. People sought to leave territories where fighting could soon take place and which were already subject to systematic bombing and missile attacks. Over the previous weeks, Russian troops, having taken control of the Nadterechny, Naursky and Shelkovsky regions of the republic, slowly moved south towards Grozny.

At about 9 o'clock the refugees proceeded through Petropavlovskaya (Chech. - Churt-Tog1i village) and headed along the highway towards the station. Goryacheistochnaya, which is adjacent to the regional center - the large village of Devletgirin-Evla (Tolstoy-Yurt). Russian troops were already stationed on the outskirts of these two settlements. When the column of vehicles began to approach, it was struck without warning by an artillery strike. The fire apparently came from combat positions located at heights near the village of Bamat-Yurt (Vinogradnoye), approximately five kilometers to the northeast.

For four hours, the military did not allow local residents to go to the place where the convoy was shot. The shelling did not stop, and snipers were shooting at people trying to get out of the village onto the road. Only after the head of the Goryacheistochnenskaya administration managed to come to an agreement with them, a ZIL truck, driven by Said-Magomed Shamsuevich Khasuev, born in 1972, who lived in the village of Devletgirin-Evla, came to the aid of the victims. Together with him, Deniev, Madayev, Aliev, Khasukhanov and other local residents arrived at the place of shelling. Among them was Zurab Khasulbekov, whose 12-year-old sister (she was torn to pieces) and 18-year-old wife were killed as a result of shelling by the Russian military on Goryacheistochnaya in early October 1999. They were given two hours to pick up the wounded and the bodies of the dead. After this period, the military promised to resume fire. However, they did not stop it completely at the agreed time.

Local residents managed to remove most of the wounded and picked up some of the bodies of the dead. With their help, uninjured people also left the scene of the shelling. But not all. A group of four frightened children, with whom were a 17-year-old boy and a 28-year-old girl, hid in the nearby hills for another five days without food or warm clothes. Only on November 3 did they manage to reach the outskirts of the village, where they were given first aid.

The story is narrated by Koka Alkhazurova, the mother of the deceased family (she herself was not in the refugee column).

My loved ones were refugees. That day they were in the village of Selmentauzen, Vedensky district, on their way to the village of Chervlennaya, Shelkovsky district. All media outlets announced that a corridor had been provided for the refugees. People who regularly listened to the radio and watched TV decided to use it. On the morning of October 29, 1999, having collected their belongings, they set off on the road, especially since the Vedeno region was already under intense shelling.
As a woman who saw it all herself later told me, their column was fired upon from long-range guns from the direction of the village. Grape. I was looking for my little granddaughter, they assured me that she was still alive. Then it turned out that it was not my granddaughter, but all of mine died. I don’t remember the name of that woman, but she told us everything then. She saw how a shell hit the "eight" the color of wet asphalt. Everyone who was in the car died. The man was thrown out of the car, and he called for help, he was afraid that the gasoline tank would explode and the corpses would burn. But there was no one to help, since there was constant sniper fire, and cannons were also fired from helicopters, finishing off the survivors.
Another, who was lucky enough to get out of this hell alive, told me that he had seventeen fragments in his body. “I survived only because, apparently, the day of death destined for me by the Almighty had not yet arrived,” he said. “I lay on the side, but clearly heard the groans of the dying and wounded.” This man called for help. A woman approached him, and he asked her what was happening, what awaited us. The woman answered that they were destroying us, killing us. “Father, we can’t help you,” she said. - Try to save yourself if you can. I myself lost part of my family here."
This woman’s two daughters and husband died there. According to her, her husband received a shrapnel in his heart from a shell that hit my husband’s car. He was rushing to help his daughter, and at that moment our car exploded. That's how it killed him. This was the Emiev family from Argun.
People from Doykar-Evla (Tolstoy-Yurt) picked up the wounded and dead, as well as those who were lucky enough not to be harmed, and took them to the village, and from there they took them to hospitals in Mozdok and Znamenskoye.
There is another woman named Dagoy, she had an only son who died there that day. He died before her eyes, and her daughter-in-law remained crippled for life; she lost her leg. Her son, a nine-year-old boy, was also killed. Their last name is Saidov, they are also from Argun.
People from Tolstoy-Yurt then buried four of my children: my daughter Kurzhan, her two children Kheda and Usman, as well as my daughter-in-law Zarema. It was, as they said, November 14th. The body of my granddaughter Kheda was torn in half, the upper part was never found. (Their bodies were released two weeks after their deaths, but even then we did not know about this tragedy. The rest of the victims simply disappeared, no one knew where they were buried).

Q: When did you find the bodies of the other victims and where did you bury them?
A: We sought to excavate the burials for many months, but it only happened more than six months later, on June 3, 2000. That day we arrived in Goryachevodsk, where not far from the village in the courtyard of an asphalt plant there was this burial place. The hole was huge, the size of a residential building. When it was dug up, they found seven corpses and four cars, one of which was a truck. The corpses lay under the cars.
The excavations began at eleven o'clock. There were several military men there: one of them was deputy. the district prosecutor, another prefect, and also the head of the administration, they helped us a lot. There were also people who, like us, were looking for their loved ones from Argun, from Petropavlovskaya. To dig, they brought in an excavator and a crane, otherwise it would have been impossible to get the cars out of this hole. After several cars were pulled out, the corpses of two girls from Argun were discovered, more precisely, one of them was a young pregnant woman. Then they dug up the body of the only son of Dagoy, also a resident of Argun. Then they dug up the car, then the corpses of my granddaughters... (The woman’s speech is interrupted, she is choked by tears, she cannot speak further. But after five minutes, having controlled herself, she continues, despite the mental anguish caused to her by this story).
Q: Did you see how they took the corpses out of the pit, what condition were they in?

A: Yes, I looked and saw this terrible picture. I will probably never forget the disfigured baby in diapers. His body was crushed, only his skull was visible from the diapers. And the other, a seven-year-old girl, had no head at all, a shell hit her, the skull lay next to her. I noticed that my right hand was missing. I remember the girl was wearing a sweater... My innocent granddaughters... After their bodies were taken out of the hole, the soldiers told us that we wouldn’t have time to get the others out - “they lay in this hole for seven months, another night nothing.” doesn’t solve it, wait until the morning.” But, as often happened before, the next morning the decision of the Russian services changed. We came to the factory yard, and almost the entire army was there, cordoning off the pit and not allowing us to approach it. One might have thought that we had come to commit some kind of sabotage or recapture the corpses of militants from them. The soldiers had dogs, and there were a lot of them. At this time, the district prefect and the Russian commandant arrived, and only after their intervention were we allowed to continue the exhumation.
On the morning of June 4, we pulled out two more bodies from the pit: I recognized one as my husband, the second was never identified, and was buried in Tolstoy-Yurt nameless. To tell the truth, some Russian soldiers sympathized with us. There were some who even shed tears. But we were not allowed to photograph the corpses and the pit. When my daughter wanted to film that burial, the boss threatened him with his finger and said that they would close the pit. After that, she didn't dare take pictures. The body of Sultan, my husband, was already photographed at the cemetery by his brother. His entire head was crushed.
For a long time we did not know what happened to them: we believed that they were with relatives in Selmentauzen. But on October 31, my married daughter Malkan, along with her husband’s family, in a column of about a hundred people, walked along that road. She saw her father’s wrecked car and rushed to it, but she felt bad. Her brother-in-law and his wife pulled Malkan aside. They were strictly warned along the way: not to approach or even look in the direction where the wrecked cars and corpses were, which they had not yet managed to remove. They were told: “If you take even one step in that direction, we will shoot, don’t even dare look there.” They did not have time to see if anyone was in the car, since it had tinted windows. When Malkan returned home, she said that on October 29 she went to see the relatives with whom our family was staying, but they also left that morning. My daughter also told me that the column of refugees leaving that morning along the Petropavlovskoye Highway was destroyed. I expressed concern that they could have been among the dead, but Malkan objected: no, she heard that my father had left for Nazran. And we hoped that was the case. But it was not possible to go and find out what and how, because the roads were blocked.
We learned about what happened a month later. On December 8, relatives sent a message that on October 29 they saw our people home and asked to know whether they had arrived or not. They hid this from me, although even strangers already knew about it. My daughter-in-law and my neighbor Aizan went to Mozdok, visited all the hospitals and other places where, in their opinion, our loved ones could end up. The search yielded no results.
At this time, we were told that some woman on the train asked to inform the relatives of Sultan from Chervlennaya that near the village of Tolstoy-Yurt the entire family, who was in a V8 car the color of wet asphalt, had died. That's how we found out what happened to them. When this news arrived, my brother-in-law's wife went to Tolstoy-Yurt to find out the details. She managed to find out that 4 of the seven corpses were buried in Tolstoy-Yurt: Kurzhan, her two children and Zarema. The girl had no upper body; they buried only what they could find. No one knew where the other three were. This was already in December.
In March, my second daughter Malika died in a hospital in Arkhangelsk. The news of the death of her family caused her great stress, the doctor said that she was suffering because of what had happened, she did not have long to live, it was better to take her home. But my daughter Malkan could not do this, and how could she dare to tell her sister that she was dying? Malika died on March 14, Malkan brought her home five days later, and she was buried on March 20. Before the war, Malika was engaged in journalism.
And only two months after her death we found and buried her father and two nieces, as I already told you, on June 4 in Tolstoy-Yurt, but only in a different cemetery. My daughter Kurzhan and daughter-in-law Zarema are buried in one grave, Kurzhan’s children Kheda and Usman are buried in another, Zarema’s children, my granddaughters Korina and Fariza are buried in a third. The Sultan and that unidentified man were buried in another grave.

Yes, by the way, before the war we sold a Gazelle car for sixty thousand rubles, and my husband drove his son’s car, a Zhiguli - a V8. They managed to spend little of the money they received, but he had more than fifty thousand with him. Then the relatives said that he wrapped the money in a sheet, like other papers: a military ID, work records, and kept his passport and car documents with him. During the excavations, we found a torn sheet, but there was no money or documents in it. There were also no documents with which he never parted, as well as traces: no torn or burned papers. Both the documents and the money simply disappeared.

Laila Alkhazurova, Koka’s daughter-in-law, says:
I saw a young soldier talking with local kids near the market in Chervlennaya. He told them how they were forced to shoot a column of refugees on October 29, 1999. They shot at civilians who were traveling towards the Shelkovsky district. And at first they tried to object, citing the fact that there were women, old people and children in the column. But the commander said: “There is an order, it was given from above, your job is to unconditionally obey the order.” With tears in his eyes, he told these young people: “How can I live now? I fall asleep, and I dream of these women, children and old people. I hear their screams and moans, pleas for help, although that day I saw them only through binoculars . I will never forget about this."
When he talked about this, I still didn’t know that my husband’s relatives died in that column.

Rizvan Akhmetovich Didayev, born in 1949:

I am a resident of the village of Staraya Sunzha. On October 29, 1999, together with my family, I drove onto the Petropavlovskoye Highway, hoping to get to Ingushetia. On the way, my sister's family joined us. We heard from people that on October 29 a corridor will be provided for those wishing to travel to other regions of Russia. We, of course, decided to use it. A whole convoy of cars of refugees like us gathered on the road, striving for safer areas. We hung white flags and drove off. Then there was a sharp turn to the left. My sister's car was ahead of us, her brother-in-law was driving. When I turned the car around, I didn’t immediately understand what was happening. The first shell hit my sister’s car, the second exploded near my car, dust rose in a column, and fragments rained down on us. We were second in the column, and I decided to rush through the hills, but when I turned, I saw a broken truck ahead. There were people lying on the road, alive or dead, I didn’t understand then. A shell exploded again. I shouted to my people to jump out of the car and lie down on the ground. Getting out of the car, I saw an overturned Volga. Then it turned out that it was a Tolstoy-Yurt car. But I still couldn’t come to my senses. A shell-shocked man stood near one of the cars, also not understanding what was happening. All the time the snipers were beating “ding-ding”, I still have that whistle in my ears. At this time, the shell-shocked man walked around his car, saw mine and got into it. I still thought that the keys were left in the car, but before I had time to decide what to do next, there was another explosion, after which he got out of the car and, loudly slamming the door, walked down the road. I don’t know his name, but at that moment he himself would hardly have been able to name it. (When that man ended up in the hospital in the evening, he kept trying to go somewhere). There is dust, smoke, screams all around. Someone shouted that the children and Usman were killed. We got out of the car, slid into a ditch and crawled towards the village of Goryachevodskoye. I traveled along this road for a long time, I knew it and this ditch well. We crawled along the ditch for three, three and a half kilometers. You can’t raise your head, snipers are constantly hitting you, but you still want to look after every explosion. While I was crawling, I counted about thirty damaged cars; not a single one slipped past us. They very precisely chose the time and place for the shelling: the road along which the column of refugees should pass, and the day on which they were promised a corridor. They hit each vehicle with direct fire, I also said that these tankers should be given an “A” for accuracy. If a shell hit somewhere nearby, the driver stopped the car and the children spilled onto the road, but in most cases the hits were direct. A terrible picture - fragments, wounded people, a terrible background against which the angelic faces of little children flash. We were fired upon every minute, explosions thundered continuously, and shells exploded. If you raise your head slightly above the edge of the ditch, you risk getting caught.
There were a lot of corpses. There were pieces of human flesh lying around: arms, legs, heads, halves of torsos. I saw all this with my own eyes, because I looked out all the time, even though my wife scolded me. When we got to the corner, it was necessary to cross to the other side, I suggested that my people rush through one by one, although I knew that the feds could see us all through binoculars. But they objected to me and decided to wait until dark.
By that time, the head of the administration of the village of Goryachevodskoye managed to come to an agreement with the leadership of the federals to give them the opportunity to remove people from the field. They gave one and a half to two hours for the villagers to help the victims. The first car that left Tolstoy-Yurt picked us up near the village and several other people who, like us, crawled to Goryachevodskoe. Another car with young people went to the road to pick up corpses and wounded. Then they said that after they picked up 5 corpses, shelling began, they shot near the wheels, as if they were saying: “Hurry up!” At this time a bus and several cars arrived, i.e. small column. They also loaded people into these 3-4 passenger cars and slipped through, since they were not fired upon, although snipers did. Apparently, they did not fire at them because they wanted the job they started to be completed as quickly as possible.
There was one seriously wounded woman. The doctor immediately gave her an injection and treated the wound. She was strong - her fist was clenched tightly, her whole body was torn up by shrapnel, her face on the right side too. The injection didn't help her. They carried her about a hundred meters, but did not take her to the hospital; she died. She was, in my opinion, from Vedeno.
The rest of the group were sent by car to Tolstoy-Yurt, since it was unsafe to stay in Goryachevodsk. The wounded were transported in cars, and we went on foot.
My sister and niece were brought in only two days later.
Some of the wounded were sent to Mozdok: among them there was a woman (Uzbek) who was traveling from Argun, she is married to the cousin of my wife’s father. With her were her daughter’s son and two more grandchildren - the children of her son, and she had a note to Valid Israilov, we said that this was our brother.

Five children and a 28-year-old girl wandered through these hills for 5 days. It was said that a little girl said: “If I could get home now, I would eat 10 tortillas and drink 10 glasses of water.” They somehow consoled her. After a five-day journey they came to a village.
Two Ozdamirov boys were wounded.

* On April 2, 2000, on the outskirts of his village Said-Magomed Khasuev was killed by the Russian military. They explained their actions by saying that the young man allegedly violated the imposed restrictions on movement at night. According to the testimony of local residents, the murdered man was returning home in a car before 20.00, i.e. even before the curfew.

The material was prepared on the basis of reports from the Memorial Human Rights Center.