There is no talk about fixing the pipe or even better covering up the pit, which we, the residents, have to navigate over shaky wooden planks. Svoboda seems uninterested in this issue of no national importance. For them, it’s just the humdrum of life.
Svoboda got an office in our building more than two years ago. Since then, the party has beaten its opponents a few times, got into parliament for the first time and chopped down fences. None of it, however, reflected in any way on the environment they inhabit.
The hallway of our building has remained dark and quite dirty, despite the best efforts of its caretakers. The lock on the door to the hallway remains broken. The archway that leads to the building inevitably turns pitch dark in the evening, with silhouettes of smoking Svoboda activists lurking in its depth. Even after the memorable snowfall last winter I saw no trace of these brave fellows with spades in our yard.