Petrik was arrested in Mykilske, a small town near the city of Mariupol, where he moved to work in a local hospital. Mykilske fell to the Russian forces in early 2022, after the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. 

The court found Petrik guilty of espionage on behalf of the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) and sentenced him to 15 years in prison, despite the fact that during sentencing it was noted that he had accepted Russian soldiers at his hospital without question, and provided them with the best possible care. 

A copy of Petrik’s indictment, which has been obtained by Novaya Gazeta Europe, tells the now familiar tale of a courageous person who was unlucky enough to find himself living under Russian occupation twice. It is poorly put together, as is custom for such espionage indictments, only investigating one month of Petrik’s phone history, covering the period 1 August 2024 to 31 August 2024. He is further named as a “handler” for the SBU and accused of serving a “foreign government”.

A propaganda video broadcast by Russian state news agency RIA Novosti of Petrik’s trial at the “Supreme Court of the Donetsk People’s Republic” shows footage of him behind bars in the courtroom as well as being sentenced. “My name is Serhiy Mykolayovych Petrik. I am a doctor … and I consider myself to be innocent. I am a Ukrainian citizen, and I am asking that I be acquitted. I have not admitted any guilt,” Petrik said in court.

An unusual man

Over the years, Petrik has treated all four of my children, but I first met him in rather odd circumstances in the city of Donetsk over 20 years ago, when he had just had his application to adopt an orphan turned down by the local authorities on the grounds that a single man would be “unable to take care of a small child”. I was among the journalists who covered the story and who urged the commission to reconsider their decision. Petrik eventually managed to adopt the boy.

Petrik was always known for his boldness, and one illustration of that in particularly sticks in my mind — in the early days of the War in Donbas in April 2014, he baked Easter cakes and painted Easter eggs, wrapped himself up in a homemade Ukrainian flag and then took them as gifts to the Russian separatist militia occupying his home town of Makiivka. 

After all, he reasoned, it was a holy day, Christ had risen, and everyone should love one another. He was severely beaten by the soldiers, but managed to get away. The incident was quite simply sensational and unbelievable — nobody else would have thought of doing something so brave.

A close call

The Donetsk region town of Mykilske is the closest one to Mariupol that has not been destroyed. When the advancing Russian army captured the town without resistance on 1 March 2022, its small, provincial hospital became the nearest intact medical facility to the city that Russia was about to lay siege to. 

As well as receiving a steady stream of civilian casualties, the hospital became a treatment centre for wounded Russian soldiers. Local doctors provided all forms of care: from stitching and bandaging wounds to delivering babies. Russian soldiers were also received in the emergency room, although they were treated by military medical personnel. 

There was no shortage of work for Petrik either — a situation he had already experienced when he lived in Makiivka, a satellite city of the regional capital Donetsk, which had come under Russian occupation in 2014. 

Before the War in Donbas began, Petrik had worked as a neonatal specialist in Makiivka’s maternity hospital, and in light of his expertise, he was sent to the regional medical centre in Mykilske. However, Petrik still visited Russian-occupied Donetsk, where his mother lived, and was detained once by irregular forces of the “Donetsk People’s Republic” (DPR) as he passed through a roadblock. It was claimed at the time that Petrik had been singled out as a suspected member of an “international subversive organisation”, namely the Red Cross. 

Petrik was beaten and taken to a police station, the standard practice for roadside stops carried out by forces of the DPR. He was held at the station for several days as the authorities continued to abuse, interrogate and force a confession out of him. On the third day, however, Petrik feigned an epileptic seizure and was rushed to a hospital in Donetsk by ambulance. 

Once there, Petrik spent the night in the emergency room, all the while periodically faking further seizures. A colleague who had just come on shift recognised him and telephoned his mother, who knew a mayor in the DPR security services and managed to help set him free. Following the incident, Petrik returned to Mykilske, only to become caught up in the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

A fateful choice

Mykilske was largely spared from fighting during the initial invasion. The local police station was converted into a screening centre for refugees from Mariupol, many of whom were wounded, unwell, pregnant or suffering from psychological trauma. 

This was a taxing time for Petrik, something he wasn’t always able to hide. Almost exactly a year to the day of the invasion, on 23 February 2023, some of his colleagues at the hospital invited him to celebrate Defender of the Fatherland Day, a Soviet holiday that was abolished in Ukraine in 1992. 

Petrik declined the invitation and, in his own words “was unable to hold back”, explaining to them that he simply couldn’t partake in a celebration of the military when they were all “being constantly reminded of the tragedy in Mariupol, just one year on”.

This small display of defiance earned Petrik a denunciation at the local branch of Russia’s Federal Security Service (FSB), after which he was detained for three days. He was lucky enough to return from the FSB basement — likely due to the lack of qualified medics in Russia-occupied territories — but had all his devices and documents seized. 

Petrik consistently refused to accept a Russian passport, something required as per a new law introduced by the occupation authorities in 2023. This proved to be an issue, as Russian doctors sign all documents with an electronic signature, which can only be granted to Russian citizens. Working without Russian citizenship also makes budgetary matters difficult, eventually making it impossible even to be paid one’s salary. 

By summer 2024, Petrik already had a number of “black marks” against his name. Without a Russian passport, his status in the hospital was only semi-official and evidence of his prior arrest in 2015 could also be found online. The FSB knew he had already been arrested in the DPR after it was annexed by Russia, and had shown resistance to the occupation. 

Many people believed that he should have at that point fled to free Ukraine, but Petrik decided to put duty before his own safety. His patients, many of whom he had treated for nearly 10 years, relied on him, trusted him and respected him. He was recently married, and his wife didn’t want to abandon their home and leave without knowing where they would go either. 

By the end of summer 2024, Petrik made a final decision. His young patients needed him. That was his priority, and this is why he eventually accepted a Russian passport at a time when essentially nobody else did, in the third year of the full-scale war. 

Petrik’s fresh Russian passport was likely what prompted the FSB to act as he could now be tried as a Russian citizen.

Dispossessed

The arrest itself was haphazard and poorly executed. Whilst on duty at the hospital, Petrik left briefly to visit a patient at home, and left his phone on the table. When he returned, his phone was being searched by security officials. He was promptly arrested. 

While in custody, he spoke only Ukrainian and requested a translator. The court initially handed him a two-year suspended sentence in December 2024 and allowed him to exit the court. However, as Petrik was about to leave, he was detained by the FSB in the court lobby on espionage charges.

Petrik’s mother was present in court for his second trial. This unassuming elderly woman, who only has Russian television at home, doesn’t understand what her son has done. She was only able to talk with him for around 40 minutes through the bars of his cell, leaving before the sentence was read, which she was not allowed to be present for. 

In early October, a message advertising a “vacant” flat in Mykilske appeared in a Telegram channel belonging to the local occupation authorities. This apartment had once belonged to Petrik. 

Following the sentencing, during which it was noted that Petrik “showed disdain” towards Russia and its “special military operation” in Ukraine, his possessions were set to be confiscated — an unlawful practice that has long been applied in Russian occupied territories.

It is uncertain what fate awaits Petrik. The only hope for those that know and care about him is that he will be released in a prisoner swap, but it is difficult to imagine how and when that might happen.