‘A way out of a cage’ Why more and more inmates from Russian women’s prisons are reportedly signing army contracts
The Russian authorities have been recruiting women prisoners to fight in the war against Ukraine for well over a year now, but the practice is reportedly still on the rise. Former inmates who spoke to the independent outlet People of Baikal said that it’s not just the promise of freedom or financial compensation that drives women to sign military contracts — according to them, prison conditions are often so unbearable that even war seems preferable. Meduza shares a translation of People of Baikal’s report.
Sources familiar with the situation at Penal Colony No. 11, a women’s prison in the village of Bozoi in Russia’s Irkutsk region, told People of Baikal that women there have been submitting applications en masse to go fight in Ukraine. Of more than 60 volunteers who recently applied, about a third were rejected due to health issues or because they had underage children, the sources said. The rest were sent to the front. Before deploying, the women received a month of basic nursing instruction and minimal military training. They left for the front line just before New Year’s 2025.
According to Olga Romanova, executive director of the prisoners’ rights group Russia Behind Bars, the recruitment process for women is virtually the same as it is for men. The main difference is motivation.
“Women see it as a way out of a cage, a chance to get out sooner, to receive at least some kind of help from the state. They’re worn down and are just trying to seize any opportunity they can,” said one former inmate.
According to Romanova, women often have more reasons to seek freedom than men do: “They have children, parents, a loved one waiting on the outside — whatever the relationship, whatever the situation. It’s easy to hook them that way.”
She added that it’s also easier for prison authorities to pressure women. “It comes down to physiology. It’s very easy to make a woman’s life unbearable without technically breaking any rules. They can cut off the water for a month or withhold sanitary pads, for example,” she explained.
Other former inmates said that women in their prison were beaten, forced to work beyond the legal limits without pay, and punished for filing complaints. “They’d lock us in our cells, shut off the water, leave us in the dark. For many women, prison is more terrifying than war,” one of them said.
There are also structural differences between men’s and women’s penal colonies. In men’s facilities, there’s usually an informal hierarchy — roles are assigned, and unwritten rules are followed. In women’s prisons, it’s increasingly every woman for herself. As a result, uprisings are rare, inmates struggle to defend their rights, they’re less informed about what’s happening outside, and they’re more susceptible to propaganda.
“A lot of the girls said they weren’t going [to Ukraine] to fight — they were going to help, to save lives,” one woman recalled. But in the end, they’re sent to the front lines — just like the men.
