"You're a bit old, you've had enough." Ukrainian women spoke about torture and abuse in Russian captivity

"My name is Viktorija Andruša, I am 26 years old, I work as a teacher of mathematics and computer science. I spent six months in Russian captivity," Viktorija begins her story.

"My name is Ljudmila Husejnova. I am 61 years old. I was in Russian captivity for more than three years," begins Ljudmila's story.

Viktorija Andruša tells that on February 27, 2022, the Russian army was already on the territory of our village in the Chernihiv region. It so happened that already at the beginning of the great invasion, she moved from the city to her parents in the countryside.

"The Russians started searching houses, they entered my parents' house. There they found my phone with photos and videos of their equipment," says Viktorija.

Ludmila Husejnova was arrested alone in the occupied territory of Novoazovsk.

"It happened on October 9, 2019. I was stopped on the street, next to the car. They jumped out, pushed me into the car. They took me home, searched me, found Ukrainian books and a flag, put a bag on his head and took me on," said Lyudmila.

Victoria was told she had the status of "gunner": controller gunner. And people with such a status hated it the most.

According to the Center for Civil Liberties, immediately after arrest, women and men are usually kept together in basements that are not suitable for human life. Most often, they are given food, not water, and they are deprived of the opportunity to go to the toilet.

"From the first day of our stay on the territory of Russia, we had to learn the Russian national anthem. God forbid you pronounce a word incorrectly somewhere, sing softly or something else. They could say, "Sing half the day." I'm tired of singing this song of theirs. Then they asked us to sing "Victory Day", "Katyusha", "Russian Land". I was especially annoyed by their song "Uncle Vova" - praise for Putin. There were times when we were forced to learn songs. And one of them is called " Forgive us, fellow Russians," Victoria remembers.

Lyudmila was taken to Donetsk with a bag on her head.

"I didn't know where they were taking me and what was going to happen. When they brought us, we were forced to take off our clothes. When the abuse started, and they already put me in the cell, they allowed me to take the bag off my head, the girl who was already in the cell told me what the place was like - "Isolation", says Ludmila.

 

"Isolation" is a prison located in occupied Donetsk. Ukrainian prisoners often call it a modern concentration camp. At the time of the beginning of the Russian aggression, it was a center of modern art located in a former factory. Militant groups under Russian control occupied the premises in 2014 and turned them into a prison where prisoners are tortured.

"I had no right to sit or lie down from six in the morning to ten at night. Lamps with strong light were near my bed. And it burned my eyes to the point of pain. For the first four days I heard terrible screams. I prayed it wasn't my relatives crying. That was the scariest thing for me," says Ljudmila.

Victoria says that the prisoners' eyes and hands were tied.

"They forced us to kneel and said: "Now we will shoot you." When we got to the remand prison, everyone there went through the "reception" process, says Victoria.

According to Ukrainian human rights defenders, after being transferred to a Russian pretrial detention center or prison, prisoners are divided into sections. The process of so-called acceptance is common: beatings, torture with electric shocks, information vacuum, psychological pressure, haircuts and sexual violence.

"The man is taken out into a corridor where there are no cameras, where everyone is, let's say, his own. No one will protest. And they simply beat people up as much as they saw fit. Tasers (hand-held devices that incapacitate a person by sending an electric shock of 50,000 volts) were used. And that despite the fact that there were 10 to 12 people there. If not more. They said: "You've lived a little, well, that's enough, you've already tried what it is." You won't have it anymore," says Victoria.

 

Ljudmila remembers the case when she fell on the bed about 10 minutes before the scheduled time, because she simply couldn't take it anymore.

"My back was falling apart. And as soon as I took off my clothes, the door opened. The first thing you do is put the bag on your head. He started cursing saying, "Who gave you permission?" He told me to get down. I say I can't, because I took off my clothes. He grabbed my leg and threw me to the floor, then kicked me," Ljudmila says.

Viktorija says that there were times when she felt she was losing herself, fainting.

"They didn't believe me, they threatened to burn us alive. The most painful method of torture is burning a person alive. And the fire that was next to me, the closed door and the moment when they were just laughing...", recalls Viktorija.

Ludmila says that there were days when prisoners received two small pieces of bread a day, very small pieces.

"And then you have to save that bread. And water - that's all. The porridge they used to give us was like stones. There was a little dirt, mouse excrement, so it was not edible. I still can't taste food. I don't want to eat," states Ljudmila.

 

Victoria points out that the prisoners were forced to undress and show their bodies on the video literally the day after their "admission" and say that they are not beaten or insulted in captivity, that the prisoners are treated normally.

"I was most impressed by the cynicism of the doctor who filmed it. She just saw my body and said, “What is this? Where is it?" I answer: "Here." And she just stands there and doesn't know what to say," Victoria remembers.

Ludmila remembers that the guards threatened to hand her over to the militants for fun.

"On the second floor of "Isolation" there was a barracks where people who fought against Ukraine were housed. They feel pleasure when an older woman is forced to undress. They touch her, pinch her, laugh at her, touch her or hit her with sticks," says Ljudmila.

Victoria points out that in captivity there were cases of nervous breakdowns and suicide attempts. Even then, the pressure did not continue, they told the prisoners that they could not stand it, that their psyche was weak.

"And then you either learn to resist it, not to react, or they destroy you as a person".

According to the data of the Ministry of Reintegration of Ukraine, by the end of June 2023, 126 women are in Russian captivity. Of these, 46 are military personnel, and 80 are civilians. Of the total number of captured women, 23 have children. Ukraine does not keep Russian women in captivity, as it is prohibited by the Geneva Convention. The coordination headquarters for dealing with prisoners of war announced that the captured Russian women were returned to their homeland.

"There were times when I cried out loud. And then I said he won't see my emotions. If I did cry, I did it so the guards wouldn't see. While they were talking to each other, I heard one of the guards say, "Is she a stone?" And then came the moment when they simply took us into the corridor and played us a video about Mariupol, when they showed the bombed city, showed the children living in the basement. I couldn't control my emotions then," stresses Victoria.  

 

"The first holiday, the first New Year. I was already in pre-trial detention in Donetsk. I was standing next to the window, on the bottom bunk, holding on to the window, bars and choking on tears. I couldn't cry anymore. It was hard. For some reason, I had so much hope that he would be free on my 60th birthday. All the prisoners in the cell said together, "Happy birthday." They said it in Ukrainian, they knew how important it was to me. They were tears of gratitude. They drew me a postcard," Ljudmila recalls moments like this.

"When they wake us up in the morning and say: "Everything you need." I tell the girls: "I dreamed about it. Do you remember that I told you it would be like this?" When we started to ask the guards, most of them were strict, this is a special unit, there are men. And one strict, as I understood it, the commander

said: "Hush, no talk, keep quiet." And the other comes up and says: "Yes, yes, yes. You're going home." And we: "What, seriously?" And he: "Shh, just be quiet," Viktorija said.

Ludmila says that the moment of release is like a breath of fresh air. She says she doesn't remember feeling anything.

“Just breathe. It's a breath of fresh air, for me the association with freedom is a breath of fresh air. Because I haven't had it for three years," says Ljudmila.

"When I said, 'Mom, I'm at home,' she said, 'Hi, I can't hear you.' ." Then I heard my mother start crying. My hatred, all this rage will return to them. If I get angry and keep it inside, it will destroy me from the inside. Everyone will be punished. Everyone will get their own," Viktorija is determined.

Ljudmila says again that she does not feel hatred.

"I think the worst thing that could have been done to me was to make me a hater. I want justice to be served. I want those people to be punished, but not to suffer as we suffered, so that there is no such abuse, such violence, such torture. But they should know that they will be punished", says Ljudmila.