Gayane, 40, a woman of medium height, was an unfailing participant of opposition demonstrations that began in the wake of the 2003 presidential elections.

“I understood that I must fight . . .”

Till today she is still recognized by police; recognized, by some too, as a standard-bearer. Waving a big tricolor, the single mother of three encouraged participants in demonstrations and marches and led them forward. “It happened so that I did not have money, I popped out of the marshrutka (minibus) without paying the fare and went to the demonstration. There was not a single demonstration or rally in which I did not participate,” Ashughyan says. “I was tried three times for participation in rallies, fined twice, once taken into custody, twice they beat me so that I had bruises all over my skin. But I didn’t give a damn. I was fighting for everyone, fighting for a better future.”

Guards made up of several broad-shouldered police and national security workers were guarding the woman so that she could not leave her home during the demonstrations.

“They told me that when I spoke I gathered everyone and that they would smash my head if I went to a demonstration again, would try me, would cut my electricity and water supply, would not allow me to live,” Ashughyan says. “They asked me if I planned to go there again, I said I did. After that they had a watch at the entrance to the block of flats where I live so I could not go out. And I would go up to the ninth floor, then to the roof of the building and would go down from another entrance to run to the rally.”

In the early 1990s, Ashughyan’s husband left for Russia, forgetting about his family here.

In extreme hardship and bitterness Ashughyan alone raised her two sons, Hayk and Gor, and daughter Nune, who suffers from epilepsy. She says that she felt the real taste of bitterness on October 27, 1999.

“My struggle began after October 27, 1999, when Karen Demirchyan and Vazgen Sargsyan were murdered. I understood that I must fight,” she says. “There were presidential elections after that and that unfairness had a great impact on me. I went to the polls and saw that my mother, who had died years before, “already voted” before me. It drove me mad and I decided to go till the end.”

She first was first spotted on April 7, 2003 when joining pro-opposition women she participated in a march.

In the evening, Ashughyan was flanked by several men near the “Orran” benevolent fund, where she worked as an assistant to the chief, and was taken to the Kentron police precinct.

“I knew I would be caught and wasn’t surprised. At the precinct they threatened me and said that my end would not be good if I continued to participate in demonstrations, they fined me and promised that I’ll meet a sad end if I caught their eye next time, but I continued,” Ashughyan says.

The next time she caught the police’s eye was two days later when Robert Kocharyan was sworn in for the second term of presidency and the opposition staged another march.

Holding the tricolor, Gayane was again in the first ranks. Police tried to put pressure on the marchers, blocking the road and attacking the people with batons.

“When I saw them hitting Sadoyan (Parliament Member Arshak Sadoyan) blood came up to my head, I took the flag and attacked the red-berets,” Gayane remembers. “They seized the flag, but I wouldn’t let them take it, they dragged me into the car. People were shouting, I was shouting too, saying – don’t worry, be strong.”

Flagbearer

She says she was beaten by police. “I was all in bruises. They asked me – will you participate again? I said, yes I would, they slapped me in the face, then they saw that I wouldn’t yield to them, they threw me down to the floor and kicked me till they got tired,” she remembers. After spending several days in custody, she was released. Police in her residential district of Malatia began to make different offers to her – money, land, a house in exchange for her to stop her rallying. She has no apartment of her own and lives together with her brother’s family in one room of a small two-room apartment – in extremely poor conditions, however she rejected all offers to change her life through bribery.

“They said: what kind of person are you, what do you want if you don’t want money? I said – do you think you’re people? What I want is that there are no beggars, that people don’t look for food in dustbins, everyone leads a normal life. Do you think people respect or reckon with you? I am struggling for you, us, for everyone and will struggle till victory.”

Several days after such an answer, while she participated in a sit-in, they started to use her children to put pressure on her.

During the sit-in Ashughyan learned that police took her 16-year-old daughter Nune to the precinct.

“They took my Nune hostage and set a condition – your mother will not participate in the demonstration, she will come to the police and only after that will we let you go. I didn’t know what to do.”

Seeing her situation, one of those present there called the then Ombudswoman Larisa Alaverdyan.

“My child was released half an hour later. But the policemen were so mean that they’d taken my daughter’s medicine for epilepsy which she always carried with her. Are they humans?” Ashughyan thunders.

She was again arrested on the infamous April night when security forces beat down the remnants of Armenia’s opposition. Gayane says that despite all that violence and persecution she was never afraid and always tried to be in the first ranks.

“I took the flag of my country and struggled in the name of the right future for my country,” the standard-bearer says.

She becomes tearful as she remembers one of the most exciting episodes of her life when the great Armenian poetess Silva Kaputikyan invited her to her house in appreciation of her relentless struggle.

“When I entered Kaputikyan’s house, she called me – have you come, Gayane? I said – yes. She approached me, kneeled down and began to kiss my hands. I got confused, excited. I kneeled down too and said: What are you doing?” Gayane tells in excitement. “She gave me a tight hug and said: my girl, you deserve it…”

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