“When I entered the hospital, I realised that things were very bad for me. I said nothing aloud; in my thoughts alone I prayed to God to have mercy on me, to let me remain with my children, so that they would not be left there as strangers, without father or mother, in those wastelands.

“This love and affection within the family gave us strength through all our hardships, and we were able to endure and save our lives.

“We were well-to-do householders, and that was our crime. Whoever had cows, land, or tools was an enemy,

“I began writing not for myself, but so that others would know. So that no one could say it had not happened.

“I was neither a writer nor an educated woman. I was simply a mother who did not give up. And who survived in order to tell the story,

“I wrote with trembling hands, but with a courageous heart. Not for myself, but for all those lost in Siberia. Someone had to tell the truth,

“I hated no one. Not even those who took us to Siberia. May God judge them. I only wanted to raise my children and not lose my soul,

“Siberia is not merely a place on the map. Siberia is a merciless mother who takes everything you have and gives you nothing back except pain and silence,