Four years after her mother died of self-immolation, Margarita Murakhtaeva is sure of one thing: "It was an act of protest! It will serve a purpose. One day, the country will feel its impact." With blonde curls and a shy smile, she spoke with the sincerity of a young girl who, at 24, wanted to be free. "I was born two weeks before Vladimir Putin's first presidential term began. Since 2000, it's been all about stability. But what stability is there when power takes away the individual's freedom of expression and power of influence?" said Murakhtaeva with the rebellious spirit she inherited from her mother.

That evening, in the autumn rain of Nizhny Novgorod, Murakhtaeva arranged to meet near the spot where, on October 2, 2020, Irina Slavina set herself on fire. The 47-year-old woman was her mother, as well as the best-known and most feared journalist in this large city on the Volga. It was there, on one of the wrought-iron benches facing the regional headquarters of the interior ministry, surrounded by three statues of armed police officers, that this prominent journalist doused herself with gasoline.

For most Nizhny Novgorod residents, a peaceful city 400 kilometers east of Moscow, this is no more than a faint memory. In Soviet times, when it was known as Gorky, the city was home to a major military-industrial complex, which meant it was closed to non-residents. Today, the agglomeration of 1.2 million inhabitants remains renowned for the omnipresence of the secret services and widespread apathy. Between her philology classes and her job as a graphic designer, Murakhtaeva often takes the metro near the regional police headquarters. "Mom is there with me every day," she said, alone in a nearby café. "I pass the place where she killed herself. I don't make a big deal of it. It's also a source of hope."

Slavina, an ex-teacher with a strong passion for journalism, worked for various local media before being fired or resigning due to her outspoken views. In 2015, she ended up launching her own investigative website on local fraud and corruption cases: Koza, meaning "goat" in Russian – a nod to the animal's rebellious horns. In her turn, Murakhtaeva now wants to continue her mother's fight. She was 15 years old when Koza was founded, was later entrusted with small reports, and now dreams of becoming a journalist.

"But since Irina's death, the situation in Russia has gotten worse. What she wrote, no journalist can do anymore because of the repression. The media are pro-government. Others are afraid. Worse still, no one's interested in revelations about lies and corruption anymore. There's general indifference," said a friend of Slavina's in Nizhny Novgorod, who wanted to remain anonymous. Koza survived for a few months. Today, it's an empty website.

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