(SOUTHEASTERN UKRAINE) – Inside a penal colony in southeastern Ukraine, women convicted of some of the most serious offences under Ukrainian law are serving time for treason and collaboration. Since the beginning of the full scale invasion ordered by the Russian dictator, Ukrainian courts have convicted thousands of individuals for siding with the aggressor. Reporters Kateryna Hodunova and Olena Zashko gained access to this unique facility to explore why these Ukrainian citizens chose to assist the invading forces and how the state is handling their cases. Through conversations with prisoners, prison staff, and representatives of the state programme titled I Want to Go to My People, a complex picture emerges of ideological dissonance and severe legal consequences.
The first cases of Ukrainians aiding Russian forces emerged when territories fell under occupation in 2014, but it took the total invasion in 2022 for Ukraine to formally introduce charges of collaboration into its criminal code. Since then, more than 2,600 Ukrainians have been convicted of crimes of varying gravity. These offences range from continuing to work as a school teacher under Russian occupation to providing military coordinates that led to deadly attacks in Ukrainian controlled areas. While many received their verdicts in absentia, this specific penal colony exclusively holds women convicted of treason who are now serving sentences often exceeding ten years. These prisoners chose of their own free will to cooperate with the nation that attacked their homeland.
Daily life in the colony involves strict routines and mandatory duties. According to prison officials, the convicts work on a free of charge basis for two hours a day, a requirement stipulated by the Criminal Executive Code. This unpaid labour involves self service tasks, maintaining the adjacent territory, and general landscaping. The environment is austere, though somewhat personalised by the inmates; one guard noted that the handmade toys in the facility are quite diverse and peculiar, pointing out an original looking toy cow. Inmates are permitted to call their families several times a week, though these communications require an additional financial fee.
The individual stories of the inmates reveal a stark disconnect between their actions and the resulting destruction. Irina, who is serving a five year sentence, participated in the sham referendums in the Kherson region. She described how people distributed gazettes with advertisements, prompting her to try the work. She went door to door with questionnaires asking residents if they wanted to join the Russian Federation. Despite her children actively begging her not to get involved, she proceeded anyway, noting that she was officially paid for her efforts, though she refused to disclose the exact monetary amount to reporters.
Other cases involve direct espionage with fatal consequences. Nelya, a woman who previously served in the Soviet army and spent a decade living in Russia, was sentenced to fifteen years in prison for acting as an agent for the federal security service of Russia. Court documents show she gathered information on the redeployment of Ukrainian military equipment and aircraft. She recounted photographing her own home and covertly capturing images of Ukrainian helicopters to send to her Russian handlers, explicitly stating her love for Russia and her desire to return there. Despite her clear actions, Nelya insists her verdict was fabricated and falsified by the prosecution and security services, questioning who would listen to the complaints of the grandmothers in the prison.
Similarly, Olena Chuyeva from the Donetsk region received a fifteen year sentence for providing Russian special services with the coordinates of local kindergartens and schools. One of these educational facilities was subsequently bombed by Russian forces in August. In exchange for this intelligence, a Russian handler had promised her a job in the occupation administration. When questioned, Chuyeva minimised her actions, claiming it was just an emotional text conversation and that she did not realise the person on the other end was a military operative.
Prison psychologists and staff observe a profound failure among the inmates to comprehend the reality of their crimes. Officials note that the women often write to courts and consult with legal aid representatives, genuinely believing they have done nothing substantial. They view their actions as merely talking on the phone or sending a message, entirely failing to grasp that these seemingly small acts constituted direct assistance to an invading force. However, some inmates do eventually acknowledge their guilt, visually expressing their remorse through drawings and admitting that they finally understand the magnitude of the disaster they helped cause.
For these women, the future remains uncertain, but a state programme launched in 2024 offers a potential exit. The initiative allows certain collaborators to be sent to Russia in exchange for Ukrainian citizens held captive by Moscow. State representatives are careful to clarify that, under Ukrainian law, this is not a formal exchange of prisoners of war. Instead, it is legally defined as the departure of collaborators to the Russian Federation with the parallel return of Ukrainians from enemy captivity, as Ukraine cannot legally trade its own civilians as prisoners of war. While a total of sixty six collaborators have been transferred so far, officials note that the chances of release for most inmates are slim and depend entirely on the willingness of the Russian dictator to accept them.
The ideological motivations behind the betrayals are deeply rooted in Soviet nostalgia and a rejection of modern European values. One inmate explained her desire to be transferred to Russia by citing her discomfort with Ukraine moving towards Europe, specifically mentioning her opposition to same sex marriage and her preference for the old Soviet mentality. She longed for the days of the Julian calendar and traditional Russian holidays like the twenty third of February and Victory Day on the ninth of May. Despite aiding in the destruction of her country, she paradoxically claimed she never betrayed Ukraine and only wanted the best for it, fondly remembering an older version of the country with two seas, vast forests, and rich soil.
Through showcasing the realities of this penal colony, Ukrainian authorities aim to send a clear deterrent message to the public. Officials emphasise that these educational examples demonstrate that cooperating with the enemy is a terrible idea that will not lead to anything good. For the reporters on the ground, the experience of interviewing these women was fraught with dissonance and contradiction. Speaking with citizens who actively helped a foreign power wage war against their own homes was a difficult but necessary journalistic duty, ensuring that the full and complex reality of the conflict is documented for the public record.
