MUCH has been heard from politicians on the left and right in Bulgaria in recent days about the anniversary of the communist takeover of the country on September 9, 1944. Now it is time to hear from an ordinary person who lived through those times, 60 years ago.

Donka Galunska was 17 then. For her family, September 9 heralded a series of changes of domicile, disruptions, insults, and a death in the family.

Her father was a wealthy merchant producing dried fruits for desserts, running a restaurant and a pub, hotel and employing more than 40 people.

Dimitar Galunski became one of men most hated by the post-September 9 regime.

Donka still recalls the return of the army and the excitement of the people welcoming them, treating soldiers with bread and honey on the square in Plachkovtsi (near Gabrovo).

However, euphoria gave way to gloom, as the Fatherland Front regime carried out sudden arrests and dealt out inhumane treatment.

After the end of the monarchy, merchants were rounded up. Her father was among those forced to hand over their property to the Fatherland Front. Those who refused paid the ultimate price.

"Three people, a pharmacist, a tradesman and a priest, refused to make this gift to the authorities, and they were shot in front of the rest," Donka said.

At the same time as the executions, an order was imposed banning public gatherings.

It was an episode that always haunted Donka's father.

After his property was "nationalised", he was told: "You have lived your time, and now is the time for those who were poor to live with your money". It was the only "justification" offered for the confiscation of his property.

Donka was in the classroom when one day three militiamen came in and arrested her. She was questioned about an envelope with a recipient address in Germany. The letter was an order for an anti-acne cream, but a slap in the face was the response of the militiamen when they did not get an answer they were satisfied with.

"Who did you send the money to and why? Did you send it for fascist books?"

Donka still remembers, as if it was yesterday, the dark room and the men questioning her.

This was not the only slap she got from the new authorities. In 1954 Donka was expecting her second child. Having left her hometown and moved to Sliven (some 100 km away), Donka was sharing an apartment with her family, never wanting to remember what was done to them, and the nationalisation of all property, forests, factory and hotel.

However, during a group educational lecture in the state-run manufacture where she was an assistant accountant to her husband, she asked the lecturer talking about the promising 60s and the progress in the 70s, what would come after communism.

She got no response other than a summons from the chief of the Party in Sliven and was given another slap for provoking such thoughts among workers.

"I just wanted to know, as we have such bright future ahead of us, what to expect after," Donka says today.

She says now that she views the era of communism with bitterness but without hatred.

It is painful for her when she speaks of her brother who never left the army and whose life was completely lost. He was seen reading a French newspaper in the barracks, and was immediately sent to Belene camp. Then for six years his family did not know where to find him.

"The only explanation that they had was that he emigrated abroad with other soldiers," Donka said.

In the late 1950s, the family was informed of his bad health condition and they had to take him from Belene.

With a fear of meeting people and of uniforms, he did not make it long after he was set free, she said. Stricken by melancholy, he was kept inside the house, not talking to anyone.

"He had been severely beaten up and his whole mental setup was in disorder," Tsaneva says, tears shining in her eyes.

Her other sibling was never given a chance to get a driving licence.

"The sole explanation he was given was that he will be able to flee from the country through border by car," Donka says, adding that she finds this ridiculous.

Donka was a sophomore when the changes started and she was no longer allowed to continue her economics education. She was not a Party member either and everyone would point at her in the small village.

"We were unable to apply for a job unless we are party members," she said.

She has a great nostalgia for the monarchy times when, as she sees it, there were no keys, murders or political disputes interfering with people's personal lives.

"Everyone my age misses the king's rule and his nobility," she said, adding that he would always help someone in need and would treat ordinary people nicely.

Donka never accepted any change in her own outlook, because she was brought up to work very hard for what she and her family had gained. The working day for them would start at 6am and lunchtime and dinners were same for employees, her parents, family and servants. Witnessing the monarchy rule, communism and the new time of democracy, Donka would rather live with her memories of Plachkovtsi and the happiness she knew there.