Sebastian Zielonka was a graduate of the University of Wrocław. His passion for history, both local and national, was reflected in his involvement in researching the fate of Polish repatriates and exploring the history of Bolesławiec County and its residents. Sebastian was not only a researcher, but also a good person and an advocate for Poles living outside the country.

Grażyna Wężyk’s farewell speech:

I have to read this because you are no longer standing beside me, completing my speech. Sebastian, I am very angry with you. How could you leave us at such a young age? You left behind despair and the pain you caused us. We still had so many plans and new ideas together. We will never carry out any of them now. We used to say that we were like an old married couple, always together, devoted to working side by side. You left behind everything we created together, and over the years there was truly a great deal of it.

At the library, over coffee, we came up with individual projects and then carried them out. I will greatly miss our chats, thanks to which beautiful things came into being.

They were various projects aimed at young people and adults. Together we created a book about Kruszyn, which began an entire series of books about the communities in our municipality. You came up with the children’s project “Getting to Know Our Ancestral Homeland,” in which students, with the support of principals and teachers from local schools, took part in a series of workshops to create—or rather recreate—the history of their ancestors.

It was thanks to you that refugees from Ukraine learned Polish in our libraries. You provided them with textbooks and notebooks and arranged for teachers.

We met many interesting people who passed on their life stories to the younger generation. Together we brought the local community together by organizing workshops, trips and various kinds of gatherings—small and large.

You were always polite and well-mannered, fond of people, passionate about your work and never unwilling to help. That was who you were. You had many friends and acquaintances who liked you very much and treated you with great respect.

You also loved travelling. You saw a great deal of the world, often working on behalf of the Polish diaspora. And after every trip, you always gave me small gifts. They will now be beautiful mementoes of you.

We will remember your 40th birthday, at which we had a wonderful time with around 60 of the people closest to you. Numerous photographs remained from that celebration, showing you tirelessly posing in a king’s costume.

The residents of Kruszyn and Łaziska, as well as the friends who worked with us, will remember you from our last joint event on December 18: the Balkan-Kresy Christmas Eve Gathering, to which we invited more than 100 people.

There will never be another person like you, someone who loved the local community and worked for its benefit. This was not how it was supposed to be. We never agreed to this. Look at how many people are crying over you. You leave us in great pain.

But I hope that wherever you are now, you will find a heavenly library for us, where we will sit at a table over coffee and create new events in that other dimension, someday, when my time comes.

Farewell, my friend and almost my son—I often treated you as such. Rest in peace.

Farewell from the Pomoc Polakom na Wschodzie Foundation

As Antoine de Saint Exupéry wrote: "When you look at the sky at night, all the stars will be laughing at you, because I will be living and laughing on one of them. Your stars will be laughing."

Dear Gathered Friends,

We stand here today in deep sorrow to say goodbye to Sebastian—a man whose presence illuminated our lives and will inspire us forever. We bid farewell to a friend, visionary, community activist, educator and enthusiast—our friend, who touched the hearts of everyone who had the honour of knowing him with his energy, kindness and passion.

Sebastian’s life was an example of respect and devotion—to human understanding, and to the ideas and values that were close to his heart and, thanks to him, became close to ours through the thousands of hours we spent talking together, during long journeys and over the phone. We valued his opinion so highly, and we simply enjoyed talking to one another so much.

His heart beat for people, regardless of borders. He was a friend of the East who, with great love and understanding, built bridges where others saw chasms.

Sebastian was a traveller—he explored the world with passion, not only in search of places, but above all in search of people and their stories. He was a historian whose enthusiasm could inspire even those who had never before looked at the past with such admiration. Always inquisitive, always hungry for knowledge, always open to new perspectives. But above all, open to other people—something so rare nowadays. That is why everyone loved him.

It is impossible not to mention his enormous heart. His love for his family—his beloved grandmother, mother, father, younger brothers and their loved ones—which was his greatest pride and his safe harbour. He loved his family with a devotion that could serve as an example to us all. He loved his companions—his faithful dog Dżakuś and unruly goose Balbina. He was not only their caretaker, but also their friend. He loved animals, and they loved him.

After all those years of travelling—and we met while travelling in distant Kazakhstan, in the deserts of Uzbekistan—of shared visions, projects and plans, he became a member of our family. A younger brother who supported us, rather than the other way around. He possessed extraordinary wisdom about life. He supported everyone, encouraged them, offered advice and provided immense support.

He was a man of books and a documentarian who always wanted to reach the truth. His work and passion expressed his love for people and the world. He was someone who saw beauty in details, who recognized the value in every person he encountered and every story he wanted to preserve and pass on—and he did so wonderfully.

His visionary approach, courage and unwavering belief that the world could be made a better place will inspire us all forever. He was not afraid to dream. He was not afraid to act. And above all, he was never afraid to help another person.

Today, as we say goodbye to him, we feel a pain that is difficult to put into words. But also gratitude. Gratitude that he was with us. That we could be part of his life. That he shared his passion, love, wisdom and time with us. We promise you, Sebuś, that we will cherish and pass on the legacy you left behind.

Ladies and gentlemen, condolences are arriving from all over the world—literally all over: from Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, the United States, Argentina, Brazil, Lithuania, Romania and Ukraine. He was so important to small Polish diaspora communities. He did so much good quietly, without fanfare. That was who he was: a modest, great man.

Dear Sebuś, you will always remain in our hearts. Your kindness and nobility, your courage and passion—we will never forget them. Now that you have set out on your final journey, please know that your light will never go out. What you gave us will remain, and we will strive to make your beautiful soul an inspiration for our lives. You showed us how the impossible can become possible.

Rest in peace, our dear Friend.

"You are no longer where you were. But you are everywhere we are." (Victor Hugo)

Condolences from the Association of Poles in Kazakhstan

We received the news of Mr Sebastian Zielonka’s death with deep sorrow. On behalf of myself and the team of the Association of Poles in Kazakhstan, we extend our condolences to his family, loved ones and colleagues.

With expressions of sympathy and sorrow!

Katarzyna Ostowska, President of the Association of Poles in Kazakhstan

The condolences were published by TVP Wilno and on the website of the Association of Polish Teachers in America; they were also sent by the “Więź” Polish Cultural Centre in Kazakhstan.