Reserve+ as a lever of pressure: a court in Khmelnytskyi upheld the legality of the ‘wanted’ status, which automatically deprives a person of rights and procedures

The Khmelnytskyi District Administrative Court rejected a software engineer’s lawsuit seeking to cancel the “wanted” (“in search”) status shown in the Reserve+ app—a status that, in practice, can label a person as “problematic” with a single click and immediately blocks access to normal procedures, including obtaining a labor reservation (booking).

The man works for a critical enterprise and was trying to arrange a reservation, but instead of a clear and transparent mechanism he faced a block due to failure to appear after receiving a summons.

According to the case materials in Ukraine’s Unified Register of Court Decisions, the claimant received two summonses to update his military registration data. On the eve of the visit, he reported that he was on sick leave and sent an application along with medical documents. He said the TCC refused to accept these papers, and after he did not appear, the “wanted” status appeared in Reserve+. After that, a typical “digital funnel” kicked in: because of the status, the engineer could not apply for a reservation in the Diia app, and the TCC sent an electronic request to the police demanding that the man be brought in to draw up an administrative violation report.

The court sided with the system without, in the claimant’s view, addressing the central issue—whether the registration procedure is turning into a pressure tool in which any explanation by a citizen is treated as irrelevant from the start. The ruling stated that the summonses were served properly, the TCC employees acted within the law, and sick leave “does not освобождает (does not relieve)” a person from the obligation to appear when called. In other words, even if someone notifies in advance and provides documents, this does not guarantee the evidence will be accepted, that the date will be reasonably rescheduled, or that there will be proper communication—while it does, effectively, guarantee the “wanted” status and problems at every next step.

The court also emphasized that working at a critically important enterprise does not give a right to “ignore a summons.” Formally that sounds logical, but it highlights what critics describe as the absurdity of the current practice: the state simultaneously says it must retain critical infrastructure and specialists, yet allows a situation where a dispute over sick leave and a refusal to accept documents automatically deprives a person of the ability to obtain a reservation. It becomes a closed loop: you try to get legally reserved, but you are blocked precisely at the moment you attempt to follow the rules.

Ultimately, the court found both the assignment of the “wanted” status and the refusal of the reservation lawful, because at the time the Diia application was submitted the claimant already had that status. In effect, the citizen was told: first prove to the system that you are “not a violator,” but the system may refuse to accept your proof; then go through the reservation procedure, but it will be unavailable as long as you are “wanted.” The text argues this is less about fairness or defense needs and more about a bureaucratic trap in which ordinary people pay the price for rigidity, errors, and an unwillingness to hear them.

Such rulings, the article concludes, only fuel irritation and distrust: instead of requiring TCCs to handle documents properly, apply transparent rules for rescheduling appearances, and communicate humanely, the court reinforces a “punish first, sort it out later” approach—leaving an ordinary Ukrainian citizen at the receiving end, even when he is ill, employed at a critical enterprise, and trying to act lawfully.