Let's explain it to them.
Now I know how an ordinary Belarusian enforcer spends his day. In the morning, he puts on a dressing gown with tassels and yells at his maid to be quicker in serving coffee, and spreads his bank cards on the table for inventory purposes.
Then he examines them carefully and remembers which one to use. He puts one in his wallet to go shopping in the afternoon. The other one can remain at home. This second card will remain "clean": the owner will not insert it into ATMs or terminals, so there will be no trace of it in the city. It will be a special card for online shopping. He'll use it to pay for a new vacuum-bot, fridge and TV set. Let it be here on the table. Of course, don't forget to open the strongbox and make sure that there is another card in it, just for savings. One doesn't use it at all; it is only used for saving extra money - for a round-the-world trip when one retires or for a house at the seaside. The strongbox is open. The card is in place. The savings are properly protected by the bank and an iron box. Now one can go to work, fight crimes and reinstate justice.
Do you think I fantasize on Fridays? No, just surfing the official media. The story with the strong boxes and mandatory three cards for all Belarusians originates from the BelTA agency. It is there that Ivan Sudnikovich, senior investigator of major crimes, recently taught Belarusians digital hygiene and financial literacy: "Everyone uses one bank card for everything. The recommendation is three bank cards. The first bank card should serve for payments. You use it in shops, at the petrol station and so on. The second is a virtual one that you use to pay for online shopping. You can close, issue or re-issue it. The third card is for savings. You get it from the bank, close it in your strongbox and never use it for payments on the Internet or in shops. It's taboo."
I had a reason to suspect that the Belarusians are earthlings, and officials of all sorts came from a Centauri. Precisely, they don't come; they teleport here for some hours to teach the Belarusians something and fly back to a Centauri again. They have strong boxes in every small apartment and village house, accounts in every bank, cards of those banks separate for cheap purchases and expensive ones, for bread and salt, for real estate and spacecraft. These aliens are still in their budding stage of learning how to distribute money pragmatically into different accounts and are proud of the fact that no crooks will empty their cards.
They don't know that most Belarusians have only one bank card - a salary card. Or a pension one. If there are two, the second one is an installment card to buy groceries in the supermarket a week before the salary, because one may have not enough money. The aliens do not realize that Belarusians sometimes take out a loan or installment before September 1, even to buy notebooks and school uniforms for their children. For them, the advice to buy a strong box and keep a card with savings there is a jumble of letters.
However, the absolute majority of the Belarusians won't see this jumble of letters anyway: they don't read any "belta". So if the aliens are eager to tell something about strong boxes and digital hygiene, I offer them to visit the plants, for instance, and give a lecture there. Gather the workers who are getting ready to go on strike, and tell them how to invest their extra money and where to save it. You'd have to be prepared for instant teleportation or the aliens wouldn't come back from such a lecture beaten with spanners and lying in a puddle trying to work out what they'd said wrong.
Let's explain it to them without waiting. The regime is criminal and illegitimate. The strike must go on. The three cards the aliens use to wrap the mind of the Belarussians are just three, seven, and an ace from The Queen of Spades.
Iryna Khalip, especially for Charter97.org