Freho Bat Rivka Mavasheva (Niyazova)

Freho Mavasheva was the eldest daughter of Abram Chaim and Rivka Mavashev. She was born in the city of Bukhara in 1909. She was not the first child; the children born before her did not survive. Frekho, being the eldest, served as the primary helper in the household, often busy with housework, in the kitchen, and taking care of the children. In the household, her younger siblings included brothers David and Abo, and sisters Tamara and Sara.

From the memories of Tamara Mavasheva.

Freho’s sister had a quiet and calm character, was responsible and diligent. She treated us, her brothers and sisters, with great care and patience. Frekho had a close relationship with her father, Abram Chaim, and her mother, Rivka. Her parents loved her very much. She could listen to her father for a long time, ask him questions, and he patiently and joyfully told her things and explained them. When her father came home from work, he always brought some sweets and gave them to the children, giving each one separately. He gave Freho first, and then the other children.

In 1922, Abram Chaim’s sister, Yoel, lost her daughter Nadia during the birth of her first child. Nadia was married to David Niyazov. Yoel asked her brother Abram Chaim to marry her daughter, Freho, to her son-in-law, David Niyazov, who was a widower.. Mother Rivka was against this marriage, as she believed her daughter was not ready for married life. But the marriage took place in 1923. 14-year-old Freho was married to David Niyazov (Put) – a tall, slim, and handsome man. David Niyazov had a strong character, he was strict and demanding. People who knew him said he was educated and reasonable, and it was pleasant to talk to him. In their marriage, they had four children: Mordukhai, Pinhas, Daniel, and Lyuba.

Early marriage, numerous childbirths, and a difficult life undermined her health. Freho’s sister was diagnosed with tuberculosis of the lungs. She became very weak and needed help. My mother sent me to live with her to help take care of the children and the household. I always sympathized with and felt sorry for my sister, trying to be helpful to her.

It is painful for me to remember when in 1930-31, while staying with my sister, I lost sight of her son – Daniel. He was a chubby child who had just learned to stand and move with outstretched arms. While changing his wet pants, I stepped away from him to get dry ones, and suddenly I heard his cry. Standing up and taking a few steps, he managed to sit on the hot coals of a “sandal” (a type of stove used for heating homes in Central Asia) when he fell. I was very scared but was able to provide first aid quickly and comfort the child. As it turned out later, everything went without complications, except for the scars on his backside.

In 1935, we moved to Tashkent. Freho and her husband remained in Bukhara. They already had four children: Mordukhai – 11 years old, Pinhas – 8 years old, Daniel – 5 years old, and Lyuba – 1 year old. It was difficult for her without us. In the same year, I got married and returned to Bukhara. With Freho’s sister, we were together again. But not for long, as within a year or two, Ruben and I moved to Tashkent.

At the beginning of the war in 1941, David Niyazov was drafted into the army from Bukhara, and in 1942, the eldest son, Mordukhai. Frekho’s sister’s illness was progressing, and there were no medications; she needed special treatment and care. The doctors were helpless. My friend from Bukhara wrote to me, asking for help for Frekho, who was in very poor condition. I took a 3-day leave from work and went to Bukhara to be with my sister. However, it was impossible to put her on the train, especially on military trains. On the third day, after sending my sister back to Bukhara with our distant relative from the Kogan station, I returned to Tashkent. When I got home, I asked my husband Ruben to bring my sister, which he did within a week.

We allocated a separate room for Freho. Ruben prohibited anyone from entering the room, as the disease was considered infectious. I took care of my sister until the last days of her life. I was very attached to my older sister, and she loved me too.

The last months of her life were spent in an infectious disease hospital. To visit my sister, I had to crawl through holes in the fence and then through a window. Sometimes, when doctors or nurses were making their rounds, I had to hide under the bed. Once, I spent the whole night in the ward because my sister was very unwell and asked not to leave her alone.

In 1943, at the age of 34, Freho, my sister, left this world in agony, leaving her four children as orphans in the care of her brothers and sisters. We buried her in the Chagatai cemetery next to our mother Rivka.

Freho’s husband, David, returned to Bukhara after being demobilized in 1945, learning about his wife’s death and the fact that the children were with us and Ruben in the family. After some time, David Niyazov married a woman with the same last name, Tamara. In their marriage, they had six children. At times, he visited his children from Freho.

My conscience is clear before Frekho’s sister because Ruben and I did everything in our power to make her children happy.

Frekho’s eldest son, Mordukhai, after being wounded on the front, was sent to work in the city of Bekabad, where he met his future wife. He met a beautiful girl from Ashkenazi Jews, evacuated from Kiev – Reznik Genya, who also worked for Farkhadstroy as an instructor in the party office. In 1947, Genya moved to Tashkent, where, after a modest wedding at our home, she became Evgeniya Petrovna Niyazova.

Mordukhai and Genya raised three good children – Petr, Alik, and Israel. Mordukhai’s family emigrated to the United States, to the city of Cleveland, in 1993 at the invitation of his wife’s relatives. In the same year, Mordukhai passed away, and in 2011, Evgeniya Petrovna also passed away.