Stripping, rape and "entertainment" in a sauna. A conversation with a human rights activist about sexual violence and the way to punish Russians
Source: Ukrainska Pravda
Author: Olena Barsukova
“Mom, do you remember you promised to give me a ginger kitten?” wrote 10-year-old Yulia Vlasova in a letter to her mother, Natalia.
This promise is one of Yulia’s last memories of her mother, whom she hasn’t seen in six years.
The Russians seized Natalia Vlasova on March 21, 2019, in occupied Donetsk Oblast along with two other civilian men.
She was held at the “Izolyatsia” concentration camp in Donetsk, then transferred to the Donetsk pretrial detention center, and from there to Pretrial Detention Center No. 1 in Rostov-on-Don.
In December 2024, Natalia was “sentenced” to 18 years in prison. During the sham trial, she testified about torture and rape, but the Russian “justice” system ignored it.
“They stripped me, tied me up with duct tape, doused me with water, and electrocuted me (…)
I can’t call them anything other than maniacs, because not everyone is capable of deriving pleasure from inflicting pain on a naked, bound woman and engaging in all sorts of perversions,” the woman said.
According to one of Natalia’s former cellmates, the torturers brought 15 men to the woman, who “did whatever they wanted.”
The occupiers also threatened to harm her daughter: they said they knew which kindergarten Yulia attended and would bring her a toy filled with TNT.
When Natalia Vlasova was detained, her daughter was 4 years old. The girl is now 10, and she still hasn’t seen her mother.
Another woman detained in Donetsk in 2019 is Svitlana Golovan. She was illegally arrested, accused of espionage, and sentenced to 10.5 years. She has already served 6 of those years.
At the time of her arrest, her younger daughter was 4 years old, and her older daughter was 10.
After Svitlana’s arrest, the girls’ father took them to Mariupol, but in 2022, the family found themselves under Russian occupation again. Amid shelling, they managed to flee abroad.
The sisters now live in Germany with their father, while their mother remains in captivity. The family has no idea what is happening to Svitlana or what condition she is in.
The stories of Natalia Vlasova and Svitlana Golovan are not isolated cases.
Even before the start of the full-scale war, dozens of civilian women were taken hostage by the Russians in the occupied territories, suffering sexual violence, unlawful detention, and torture. Since February 24, 2022, the number of such cases has only increased.
As reported to "UP. Life" by the Office of the Prosecutor General, since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, 372 cases of conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV) have been documented.
At least 236 of these crimes were committed by the occupiers against women, and 136 against men. Another 20 cases involve minors: 19 girls and one boy.
The victims suffered various forms of sexual violence, including rape, mutilation and beating of the genitals, forced undressing, or sexualized threats. There were cases where people were forced to watch sexual violence against their loved ones.
Yet all these cases represent only a tiny fraction of the actual number of crimes of sexual and gender-based violence, as most victims are unable to report to law enforcement.
One of those trying to be a voice for Ukrainian women who have suffered sexual violence, particularly while in captivity, is human rights activist Lyudmila Huseynova from Donetsk Oblast.
In 2019, the Russians abducted her and held her captive for over three years for her pro-Ukrainian stance. At the “Izolyatsia” concentration camp and the Donetsk pretrial detention center, she was subjected to sexual violence and torture.
On October 17, 2022, Lyudmila returned to government-controlled territory as part of a prisoner exchange and has since decided to help Ukrainian women who have gone through similar experiences.
Her organization, “Come on, Sisters!” in collaboration with the Association of Women Lawyers “YurFem,” supports the families of captives, assists freed women, and advocates for those who still only dream of freedom.
"UP. Life" spoke with Lyudmila Huseynova about the investigation of sexual violence as a war crime in Ukraine and internationally, the needs of victims, and the barriers they must overcome.
– What difficulties do women who have survived sexual violence in captivity face before they reach the legal system?
– A civilian who has been in captivity for some time does not fully realize what happened to her there. I also didn’t understand what was happening to me: whether it was sexual violence or just torture.
When women are stripped naked and beaten on their genitals, no one assesses whether it is sexual violence or a form of torture. When men are subjected to electric shocks through their genitals and tortured in this way, they don’t analyze: “Is this a case of sexual violence or some other form of sexual abuse?” The first feeling upon returning from captivity is a sense of freedom. It seems that all the horror is behind you, and you don’t want to think about it. A person thinks: “I survived, I’m a hero, nothing hurts, my mind is fine, I can move on with my life.”
But just a few months pass, and the person begins to wonder: “Why can’t I sleep at night? Why do I wake up from nightmares that suffocate me every 2 or 3 hours? Why am I having panic attacks, why can’t I live with my wife or husband?”
After a month, two months, or half a year has passed—the realization sets in that PTSD was happening. And it’s good when there’s a professional psychologist nearby who can explain it.
My own first experience with a psychologist, unfortunately, was negative. When you start talking to a specialist and they start crying, you feel guilty for having brought them to tears, and you don’t know how to handle the situation.
This is not only my personal experience, but also the experience of most of the women I spoke with after returning from captivity. Over the past two years, the professionalism of psychologists has improved, but there is a shortage of them. An even bigger problem is that free assistance from family psychologists is practically unavailable.
I spoke with a man who had been through torture chambers in Donetsk. Before his arrest, he had a young family—a girlfriend he loved very much, and a child. And after everything he went through, he says: “I can’t be with a woman, neither physically nor mentally. I can’t let her touch me.” Women face the same issues.
This is an issue that needs to be addressed. We need to find solutions and create family rehabilitation programs. We must realize that when a person returns from captivity, even if they have a place to live, they will not receive full family rehabilitation if they are forced to travel somewhere to see a psychologist once a week and then return.
Rehabilitation must take place in a safe space where a woman and a man can be together. And—something that is not at all common here—a sexologist must be involved in such rehabilitation. Because this is about recovery, reproduction, and having children.
– Does the state pay no attention at all to the issue of sexual recovery?
– A month ago, a wonderful law was passed, in the drafting of which representatives of organizations for victims of domestic violence, and I in particular, participated. This is a law establishing the status of victims of the SNPC, which provides for many rehabilitation programs. It does not provide for free assistance from a sexologist, and family rehabilitation is described very superficially, but even in its current form, it is already a comprehensive, highly professional law.
A pilot project to provide temporary emergency reparations to victims of SNG has been running for nearly a year. People received the equivalent of 3,000 euros. It’s not a very large sum, but it can still be spent on urgent needs—such as rent, medical care not covered by the law, or even a sex therapist or family psychologist.
This law also provides for the payment of urgent interim reparations by the state. I regret that, in practice, it isn’t working because the implementing regulations haven’t been adopted yet. In what form and when it will finally take effect is unknown.
– Many people returning from unlawful detention say that at first they receive a surge of attention, are invited for interviews, and then they feel like nobody needs them. Have you personally experienced this feeling?
– It’s hard for me to say that I’ve experienced this, because I never turn down an interview and always say that my goal is not to tell my personal story, but to speak about the women who are currently in captivity.
I feel ashamed when their children call me and say “thank you.” For what? For remembering their mother? But this is my pain as well.
Our obligation is not to forget these women and to provide their children with everything they need to live and study normally.
The state does not provide housing for such children, whereas abroad they are helped, given social housing and benefits that allow them to live a normal life. It seems to me that it is unfair and short-sighted that we do not have such conditions for people who are fleeing the occupation or returning from captivity…
Every week we receive reports that civilians are being detained in Donetsk, Horlivka, Snizhne, Makiivka, Mariupol, Volnovakha, and Luhansk. Most of these cities have been under occupation for more than 11 years, and people are still resisting. They are doing everything they can to help our Ukraine win, and we do not appreciate them. We don’t realize that for 11 years now, they have been keeping Ukraine alive in their hearts there.
There are people who, for various reasons, cannot leave, but they teach their children the Ukrainian language and tell them what Ukraine is. Secretly, within their small communities, they nurture Ukrainian culture.
I remember how we lived under occupation from 2014 to 2019. My friends and I celebrated Vyshyvanka Day and Independence Day, put up little flags, and sang Ukrainian songs. If we’re talking about liberating the temporarily occupied territories, de-occupying the territory is only half the battle. The main thing is to free the Ukrainians who are waiting for this.
The big problem is that “civilian prisoners” or “illegally detained civilians” have no legal status. We still don’t know what to call these people. There is no law that guarantees them any support, and that is also unfair.
– How does the organization “Come on, Sisters!” help women who were held captive and, in particular, survived sexual violence?
– We understand what thousands of civilian women in captivity are going through. We constantly remind all branches of government of their numbers, name them, identify where they are, and the sentences some of them have been given. It pains me deeply that in the more than two years since I was released, only a handful of women have been freed.
We know the grim statistics: at least 80% of women who survived captivity have suffered from sexual and gender-based violence, and nearly 100% have endured some form of torture.
We are trying to find opportunities for medical rehabilitation [for those released]. And thanks to UN agencies that are helping us with this, 10 members of our organization have undergone medical examinations and rehabilitation.
Right now, a married couple who were released from the Zaporizhzhia region a few months ago is undergoing rehabilitation. They are a man and a woman who worked at the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant and endured horrific torture simply because they refused to cooperate with Russia. For this, they were tortured, and after their release from captivity, they were deported and had to make their own way to government-controlled territory…
We also find opportunities to train the victims, because when a woman can help herself navigate certain legal or psychological issues, she will then be able to help others. Nearly 15 members of our organization have been trained as paralegals thanks to “YurFem.”
We pay close attention to the children of women who are currently in captivity. We are currently caring for several children, including Natalya Vlasova’s daughter.
On June 19, the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, we held a rally in support of women in captivity. Yulia Vlasova asked to come and drew a poster in support of her mom. She wrote: “Mom, I love you so much, I remember you”—and added—“Mom, do you remember, you promised to give me a ginger kitten?”
We took this poster to the Office of the President along with a letter of appeal and a list of 40 civilian women who are currently in captivity. As we were walking there, Yulia asked, “Will I see the president?” I said, “Probably not, but we’ll pass on your poster.” I would very much like it if the president or the first lady could find a moment to meet with children like these, who are waiting for their mothers—civilian women who were arrested simply because they are citizens of Ukraine.
– Do you work exclusively with civilian women?
– We also counsel female military personnel, but we understand that they are, after all, at least partially covered by state assistance. For military personnel, there is state-guaranteed rehabilitation after captivity; they receive pay for the time spent in captivity and financial support for six months after their return. For civilians, unfortunately, this is not the case.
After their release, [civilians] receive a payment for each year spent in captivity, but during that time, people lose their health—both physical and mental. Virtually all civilian women returning from captivity have no housing, as everything remains under occupation. They have nowhere to go; they have nowhere to live and nothing to wear.
They are cut off from society and don’t always know where to go to obtain documents or how to renew them. Sometimes they can’t use public transportation because they find it difficult to be around people. They need to undergo rehabilitation with the help of psychologists, psychotherapists, and psychiatrists. But the lack of understanding of these women’s needs is striking.
– What was the outcome of the pilot project on interim reparations for victims of sexual violence?
– Initially, we planned to help 500 people; then we secured resources for over 700, but we received [more than] 1,200 applications, mostly from men. Not all of them received payments because there aren’t enough funds.
Most of the applications came from the Kherson region, which makes sense, since Kherson was [relatively] quickly de-occupied, but the Russian military managed to commit many crimes against the civilian population.
A major advantage of this pilot project is that we have begun to identify a greater number of victims. It ensures confidentiality—the person making the request does not have to provide all the evidence, and most importantly, is not required to contact law enforcement agencies.
We still haven’t overcome the stigma among law enforcement officers themselves, which is why there is often a lack of trust, but we are involved in training law enforcement personnel so that they treat victims with empathy. The organization “YurFem” is doing a lot of work in this area.
– Why is it easier to apply for reparations than to file a report with the police?
– The person doesn’t have to worry about endless interrogations or having to find witnesses. There is a well-established system for verifying testimonies that is non-traumatic for those who come forward.
1,200 is just the number of confirmed cases of sexual violence during captivity or occupation. About 400 people have approached law enforcement agencies. This is a problem because we could demonstrate the scale of such crimes to the world.
In December 2024, four organizations representing victims of sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) sent a letter to UN Secretary-General António Guterres requesting that Russia be included on the “list of shame” (list of shame—the unofficial name for the appendix to the UN’s annual report on crimes against children—ed.) for the numerous cases of sexual violence committed by its military against civilians.
These were two women’s organizations—“Come on, Sisters” and “SEMA Ukraine”—as well as two men’s organizations—“December 29” and another organization representing victims of torture in captivity.
We submitted the letter through the Special Representative of the UN Mission in Ukraine, Matthias Schmale. We are awaiting the Secretary-General’s report. We do not know if our appeal will be addressed, but we hope so.
For three years in a row, Russia has been mentioned in the UN Secretary-General’s annual reports as responsible for the illegal deportation of Ukrainian children. This alone is grounds for barring Russian military personnel from participating in peacekeeping missions around the world—it is the first step toward justice.
We will do everything to ensure the world sees that the SNPC are not isolated incidents, but systematic crimes committed in the temporarily occupied territories against citizens of Ukraine.
– What is your interaction with the International Criminal Court?
– We were in The Hague. Some victims—not just members of our organization or any other, but simply people who have survived SNGP—have appealed to the International Criminal Court through their lawyers.
I personally appealed to the European Court of Human Rights with the help of a lawyer immediately after my release. At that time, we hadn’t yet managed to document all the crimes that occurred during my time at “Izolyatsia” and in the Donetsk pretrial detention center, but my case against Russia was accepted for consideration. Yes, Russia has withdrawn from the ECHR, but I hope the case will still be heard, and I will provide additional testimony.
– What obstacles did you face when you approached law enforcement regarding the SPC?
– After filing a complaint with the Prosecutor General’s Office, I ran into a problem: Ukraine still lacks a single body responsible for these cases. They are handled by the Prosecutor General’s Office, the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU), and the National Police.
My case went through all three of these agencies. There were a great many misunderstandings during the transfer and review of the case, even though I am a public figure who participates in training sessions for law enforcement officers.
I understand that law enforcement agencies are overburdened. They are dealing with a huge number of war crimes that Russia is committing both in the occupied territories and in the free ones—shelling, sabotage, and terrorist attacks.
It is also difficult to prove SNPC crimes in court. Many perpetrators are located in the Russian Federation or in temporarily occupied territories. It is impossible to conduct a medical examination because the crimes occurred 3–5 years ago. Often there are no witnesses, or they fear retaliation because their relatives remain in the occupied territory. And the victims themselves are not always willing to testify due to personal trauma. All of this makes it difficult to prove such cases in court.
There are isolated instances where women who have survived sexual violence publicly testify. But again, the question is whether law enforcement agencies are prepared to provide protection to such people.
– What other difficulties, besides the heavy workload of law enforcement, do victims face?
– Many victims from the Kherson region have reported that one investigator starts the case, but then he is rotated or transferred to another agency, and the case is handed over to someone else. This is a very lengthy process.
When a victim comes forward, they aren’t given a clear roadmap of the process. The person thinks they’ve taken an important step in their life and that justice will be served tomorrow, because they’re being very open about everything.
But again, the investigator may change, or the case may be transferred from one unit to another. The process can be delayed due to shelling, power outages, or personal circumstances in the life of the victim or the investigator.
People are unaware of their right to meet with the investigator accompanied by a lawyer, because our culture assumes that only criminals need a lawyer.
If the victim’s nervous system is exhausted, she doesn’t have the energy to recount traumatic episodes three times—a lawyer can do that, act as a mediator, and arrange meetings and expert examinations. The investigator should not call me, as this could be a trigger.
The victim does not always realize that in order to refer the case to court, it is mandatory to undergo a psychiatric evaluation, which can be highly triggering.
She doesn’t realize that when the case is closed, it’s not the end of the process, because it will be transferred to court, and that’s a whole new journey. The case may be transferred from one judge to another, and hearings may be postponed an endless number of times for various reasons.
The victim also has a family who says, “Why do you need this? You’re constantly having to go somewhere, and it distracts you from family matters.” If a person applies for a job, they have to explain why they are constantly being summoned to court or for interrogations.
Most importantly, the person isn’t sure that confidentiality is maintained during these transfers of the case by judges and investigators. And this, again, is a danger if relatives remain in the temporarily occupied territories.
There are many problems. I would very much like for the victim to be accompanied by both a lawyer and a psychologist. They have the right to be present during interrogations and court hearings. If a psychologist sees that the victim is losing their composure, they could postpone or halt the court hearing.
– In your opinion, has the law enforcement approach become more ethical over the past two years?
– It’s hard for me to judge, because the investigator handling my case communicates with me very carefully. We already have an understanding of what questions can and cannot be asked. We have an agreement regarding certain boundaries of mine. And I, wanting the investigation to conclude sooner, turn a blind eye to many things. I’m working toward a result, so to speak.
But among the members of our organization is a young girl who lived in the temporarily occupied territory in 2014. She was 10 at the time. Her family was attacked because of their pro-Ukrainian stance. A car with armed soldiers was parked outside their house. Two men burst in, started beating the girl’s mom and dad, smashed the windows, and made threats.
They told the child in great detail what they were going to do to her parents, and they told the parents what they would do to their child. It didn’t happen then [the rape], but the child was aware of the danger and was terribly frightened.
I ran over to help this family and was even forced to turn to the local occupation “administration.” If we hadn’t managed to save them, it could have ended very badly.
At the time, we didn’t realize that a sexual and psychological trauma had occurred. The girl lived with that unprocessed pain for a very long time. Then they left for Mariupol and spent nearly two months under occupation. The girl was already 19 years old. When they were leaving and passing through several Russian checkpoints, she again endured the same threats and groping.
She is now in Germany. She has constant nervous breakdowns and panic attacks; she doesn’t socialize with anyone. After working with a psychologist, she decided she was ready to file a lawsuit because she realized what had happened to her.
And when this girl turned to law enforcement, an investigator called me—as a witness to these events—and asked: “Why didn’t she go to the police right away in 2014?”
I understand how difficult the investigation is. But you’re an investigator. You have to understand that such crimes have no statute of limitations. And this didn’t just happen to an adult, but to a child who couldn’t overcome the consequences for decades.
It seems like we’re constantly talking about this, training law enforcement, and urging victims to come forward. We say: even if it happened at the start of the occupation—come forward, testify.
This is important not only for personal justice, but also to understand the scale of these cases. So that the whole world sees that the war began in 2014, not in 2022. Not all law enforcement officers realize this. Let’s assume this is simply the human factor.
– What can help victims reach out to law enforcement more actively and take on this complex, long-term process?
– You’ve said something very important—a long-term process. People need to be aware of this. We shouldn’t give them false hope by saying, “Just come to us, and we’ll handle everything quickly and perfectly.”
First, we need to explain that this is a multi-stage process that may take a year or a year and a half, but we will try to do everything as quickly as possible.
Second, we need to ensure confidentiality and explain to the person exactly how everything will unfold. There have been many reports from victims that some unknown person calls them, introduces themselves in Russian, and asks, “Did this happen to you?”
Two years ago, when my case was transferred to the SBU, an investigator called me and asked, “Are you so-and-so?” I didn’t realize who it was. I said, “Yes, that’s me.” And he said, “Were you at ‘Izolyatsia’? And what, is it true they did that to you?”
This story triggered me; I started having a panic attack. It was a form of devaluation and a reminder, as they plunged me back into those terrible events because, you see, they’re interested.
Law enforcement and journalists don’t always realize the range of crimes committed by the SNPC. There’s this attitude: if it was direct rape, then it’s a sexual crime, and nothing else matters.
Excuse me, but go through the so-called “intake” procedure at the prison, where men undress you, touch you, and grope you with their hands and sticks. What do you call that?
Or when a woman is detained along with her husband, the husband is simply stripped, tortured with electric shocks to his genitals, and told: “Either you sign now, or we’ll continue to deal with him in more detail, and then we’ll deal with you right in front of him.”
Or when a girl is taken out of her cell at night and supposedly “voluntarily” led “for entertainment” to some sauna, brought back drunk, and she cries and says, “But I went there myself.” And she went only because the next day they would take her to a park to see her young children, the youngest of whom is a year and a half old.
I know this woman, who after several years of such abuse and torture was released from prison without a sentence. She is in the temporarily occupied territory and cannot leave. But she is afraid to even mention it and still believes she is to blame.
– You mentioned journalists. Please give us your basic recommendations on how to behave so that such horrific incidents do not occur: “Tell us about the rape, and we’re not interested in anything else.” – Unfortunately, this was very common just two years ago…
I have great respect and sympathy for journalists who want to learn and understand [how to cover sexual and gender-based violence].
The National Union of Journalists of Ukraine conducted training sessions for journalists. Some of them said afterward: “I realized I wouldn’t be able to conduct such interviews because it’s too traumatic for my mental health. I won’t be able to approach this with both empathy and detachment.”
But I was shocked when, at one of the trainings, a journalist said: “Why did she stay under occupation? It’s her own fault.”
He’s blaming not the perpetrator, but the person who, perhaps, didn’t have time to leave or faced other circumstances, yet remained in her home, on her Ukrainian land. You know, it’s like after World War II: if you stayed under German occupation, then go to Siberia, because it’s your own fault.
This is a very Soviet approach: if something happens to a young woman, she’s always to blame. She wore a skirt that was too short, put on too much makeup, walked down the street too late. They always blamed the victim, because “a man is a man, he has the right to do that.” And now this Soviet mindset is being projected onto the victims who remain under occupation. I’m grateful that practically everyone present at the time was taken aback by this response, reacted, and joined the discussion.
The first rule for journalists is not to blame. The second rule is not to put yourself in the victim’s shoes and say, “I understand.” Even I won’t understand what was happening to Natalya Vlasova, even though we were in the same place. But this is her personal story, her own feelings for her children, for her husband.
I can’t understand a young girl who was leaving the occupied Zaporizhzhia region through the checkpoints, and the Russians asked her: “How old are you? Oh, 18? Then we can let you through.”
Her parents “bought” her back from the Russians so they wouldn’t touch her. She suffered psychological trauma that she still can’t overcome. I was shocked when one person, who had also experienced the war, started saying, “What did she even go through there?”
But this girl, at 18 years old, may have suffered even greater trauma than some adult woman. We cannot fully understand what each person has gone through in a given situation.
In our organization, “competing over grief” is taboo. We agreed right away: every child, every woman, and every man is going through their own terrible tragedies. The question is how they will live with this going forward and how we should help them.
As for journalists, there’s a fine line to walk here: when you sympathize with someone, you have immense empathy, but you don’t violate their boundaries. This is very important.
In my opinion, there is now an understanding that interviews are not conducted to extract details of a specific case, but to hear about the experience itself, about the person.
I was shocked when a French journalist came to interview me and persistently asked about anatomical details. When she started asking what I considered to be strange questions for the third time, I simply stood up and said, “We’re ending this interview.”
I’m glad that Ukrainian journalists do understand that this is not how it should be done. You’re interviewing me not about a single incident, but about Russia’s numerous crimes against Ukraine.
Author: Olena Barsukova
“Mom, do you remember you promised to give me a ginger kitten?” wrote 10-year-old Yulia Vlasova in a letter to her mother, Natalia.
This promise is one of Yulia’s last memories of her mother, whom she hasn’t seen in six years.
The Russians seized Natalia Vlasova on March 21, 2019, in occupied Donetsk Oblast along with two other civilian men.
She was held at the “Izolyatsia” concentration camp in Donetsk, then transferred to the Donetsk pretrial detention center, and from there to Pretrial Detention Center No. 1 in Rostov-on-Don.
In December 2024, Natalia was “sentenced” to 18 years in prison. During the sham trial, she testified about torture and rape, but the Russian “justice” system ignored it.
“They stripped me, tied me up with duct tape, doused me with water, and electrocuted me (…)
I can’t call them anything other than maniacs, because not everyone is capable of deriving pleasure from inflicting pain on a naked, bound woman and engaging in all sorts of perversions,” the woman said.
According to one of Natalia’s former cellmates, the torturers brought 15 men to the woman, who “did whatever they wanted.”
The occupiers also threatened to harm her daughter: they said they knew which kindergarten Yulia attended and would bring her a toy filled with TNT.
When Natalia Vlasova was detained, her daughter was 4 years old. The girl is now 10, and she still hasn’t seen her mother.
Another woman detained in Donetsk in 2019 is Svitlana Golovan. She was illegally arrested, accused of espionage, and sentenced to 10.5 years. She has already served 6 of those years.
At the time of her arrest, her younger daughter was 4 years old, and her older daughter was 10.
After Svitlana’s arrest, the girls’ father took them to Mariupol, but in 2022, the family found themselves under Russian occupation again. Amid shelling, they managed to flee abroad.
The sisters now live in Germany with their father, while their mother remains in captivity. The family has no idea what is happening to Svitlana or what condition she is in.
The stories of Natalia Vlasova and Svitlana Golovan are not isolated cases.
Even before the start of the full-scale war, dozens of civilian women were taken hostage by the Russians in the occupied territories, suffering sexual violence, unlawful detention, and torture. Since February 24, 2022, the number of such cases has only increased.
As reported to "UP. Life" by the Office of the Prosecutor General, since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, 372 cases of conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV) have been documented.
At least 236 of these crimes were committed by the occupiers against women, and 136 against men. Another 20 cases involve minors: 19 girls and one boy.
The victims suffered various forms of sexual violence, including rape, mutilation and beating of the genitals, forced undressing, or sexualized threats. There were cases where people were forced to watch sexual violence against their loved ones.
Yet all these cases represent only a tiny fraction of the actual number of crimes of sexual and gender-based violence, as most victims are unable to report to law enforcement.
One of those trying to be a voice for Ukrainian women who have suffered sexual violence, particularly while in captivity, is human rights activist Lyudmila Huseynova from Donetsk Oblast.
In 2019, the Russians abducted her and held her captive for over three years for her pro-Ukrainian stance. At the “Izolyatsia” concentration camp and the Donetsk pretrial detention center, she was subjected to sexual violence and torture.
On October 17, 2022, Lyudmila returned to government-controlled territory as part of a prisoner exchange and has since decided to help Ukrainian women who have gone through similar experiences.
Her organization, “Come on, Sisters!” in collaboration with the Association of Women Lawyers “YurFem,” supports the families of captives, assists freed women, and advocates for those who still only dream of freedom.
"UP. Life" spoke with Lyudmila Huseynova about the investigation of sexual violence as a war crime in Ukraine and internationally, the needs of victims, and the barriers they must overcome.
"At least 80% of women who have survived captivity have suffered sexual violence"
– What difficulties do women who have survived sexual violence in captivity face before they reach the legal system?
– A civilian who has been in captivity for some time does not fully realize what happened to her there. I also didn’t understand what was happening to me: whether it was sexual violence or just torture.
When women are stripped naked and beaten on their genitals, no one assesses whether it is sexual violence or a form of torture. When men are subjected to electric shocks through their genitals and tortured in this way, they don’t analyze: “Is this a case of sexual violence or some other form of sexual abuse?” The first feeling upon returning from captivity is a sense of freedom. It seems that all the horror is behind you, and you don’t want to think about it. A person thinks: “I survived, I’m a hero, nothing hurts, my mind is fine, I can move on with my life.”
But just a few months pass, and the person begins to wonder: “Why can’t I sleep at night? Why do I wake up from nightmares that suffocate me every 2 or 3 hours? Why am I having panic attacks, why can’t I live with my wife or husband?”
After a month, two months, or half a year has passed—the realization sets in that PTSD was happening. And it’s good when there’s a professional psychologist nearby who can explain it.
My own first experience with a psychologist, unfortunately, was negative. When you start talking to a specialist and they start crying, you feel guilty for having brought them to tears, and you don’t know how to handle the situation.
This is not only my personal experience, but also the experience of most of the women I spoke with after returning from captivity. Over the past two years, the professionalism of psychologists has improved, but there is a shortage of them. An even bigger problem is that free assistance from family psychologists is practically unavailable.
I spoke with a man who had been through torture chambers in Donetsk. Before his arrest, he had a young family—a girlfriend he loved very much, and a child. And after everything he went through, he says: “I can’t be with a woman, neither physically nor mentally. I can’t let her touch me.” Women face the same issues.
This is an issue that needs to be addressed. We need to find solutions and create family rehabilitation programs. We must realize that when a person returns from captivity, even if they have a place to live, they will not receive full family rehabilitation if they are forced to travel somewhere to see a psychologist once a week and then return.
Rehabilitation must take place in a safe space where a woman and a man can be together. And—something that is not at all common here—a sexologist must be involved in such rehabilitation. Because this is about recovery, reproduction, and having children.
– Does the state pay no attention at all to the issue of sexual recovery?
– A month ago, a wonderful law was passed, in the drafting of which representatives of organizations for victims of domestic violence, and I in particular, participated. This is a law establishing the status of victims of the SNPC, which provides for many rehabilitation programs. It does not provide for free assistance from a sexologist, and family rehabilitation is described very superficially, but even in its current form, it is already a comprehensive, highly professional law.
A pilot project to provide temporary emergency reparations to victims of SNG has been running for nearly a year. People received the equivalent of 3,000 euros. It’s not a very large sum, but it can still be spent on urgent needs—such as rent, medical care not covered by the law, or even a sex therapist or family psychologist.
This law also provides for the payment of urgent interim reparations by the state. I regret that, in practice, it isn’t working because the implementing regulations haven’t been adopted yet. In what form and when it will finally take effect is unknown.
– Many people returning from unlawful detention say that at first they receive a surge of attention, are invited for interviews, and then they feel like nobody needs them. Have you personally experienced this feeling?
– It’s hard for me to say that I’ve experienced this, because I never turn down an interview and always say that my goal is not to tell my personal story, but to speak about the women who are currently in captivity.
I feel ashamed when their children call me and say “thank you.” For what? For remembering their mother? But this is my pain as well.
Our obligation is not to forget these women and to provide their children with everything they need to live and study normally.
The state does not provide housing for such children, whereas abroad they are helped, given social housing and benefits that allow them to live a normal life. It seems to me that it is unfair and short-sighted that we do not have such conditions for people who are fleeing the occupation or returning from captivity…
Every week we receive reports that civilians are being detained in Donetsk, Horlivka, Snizhne, Makiivka, Mariupol, Volnovakha, and Luhansk. Most of these cities have been under occupation for more than 11 years, and people are still resisting. They are doing everything they can to help our Ukraine win, and we do not appreciate them. We don’t realize that for 11 years now, they have been keeping Ukraine alive in their hearts there.
There are people who, for various reasons, cannot leave, but they teach their children the Ukrainian language and tell them what Ukraine is. Secretly, within their small communities, they nurture Ukrainian culture.
I remember how we lived under occupation from 2014 to 2019. My friends and I celebrated Vyshyvanka Day and Independence Day, put up little flags, and sang Ukrainian songs. If we’re talking about liberating the temporarily occupied territories, de-occupying the territory is only half the battle. The main thing is to free the Ukrainians who are waiting for this.
The big problem is that “civilian prisoners” or “illegally detained civilians” have no legal status. We still don’t know what to call these people. There is no law that guarantees them any support, and that is also unfair.
– How does the organization “Come on, Sisters!” help women who were held captive and, in particular, survived sexual violence?
– We understand what thousands of civilian women in captivity are going through. We constantly remind all branches of government of their numbers, name them, identify where they are, and the sentences some of them have been given. It pains me deeply that in the more than two years since I was released, only a handful of women have been freed.
We know the grim statistics: at least 80% of women who survived captivity have suffered from sexual and gender-based violence, and nearly 100% have endured some form of torture.
We are trying to find opportunities for medical rehabilitation [for those released]. And thanks to UN agencies that are helping us with this, 10 members of our organization have undergone medical examinations and rehabilitation.
Right now, a married couple who were released from the Zaporizhzhia region a few months ago is undergoing rehabilitation. They are a man and a woman who worked at the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant and endured horrific torture simply because they refused to cooperate with Russia. For this, they were tortured, and after their release from captivity, they were deported and had to make their own way to government-controlled territory…
We also find opportunities to train the victims, because when a woman can help herself navigate certain legal or psychological issues, she will then be able to help others. Nearly 15 members of our organization have been trained as paralegals thanks to “YurFem.”
We pay close attention to the children of women who are currently in captivity. We are currently caring for several children, including Natalya Vlasova’s daughter.
On June 19, the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, we held a rally in support of women in captivity. Yulia Vlasova asked to come and drew a poster in support of her mom. She wrote: “Mom, I love you so much, I remember you”—and added—“Mom, do you remember, you promised to give me a ginger kitten?”
We took this poster to the Office of the President along with a letter of appeal and a list of 40 civilian women who are currently in captivity. As we were walking there, Yulia asked, “Will I see the president?” I said, “Probably not, but we’ll pass on your poster.” I would very much like it if the president or the first lady could find a moment to meet with children like these, who are waiting for their mothers—civilian women who were arrested simply because they are citizens of Ukraine.
– Do you work exclusively with civilian women?
– We also counsel female military personnel, but we understand that they are, after all, at least partially covered by state assistance. For military personnel, there is state-guaranteed rehabilitation after captivity; they receive pay for the time spent in captivity and financial support for six months after their return. For civilians, unfortunately, this is not the case.
After their release, [civilians] receive a payment for each year spent in captivity, but during that time, people lose their health—both physical and mental. Virtually all civilian women returning from captivity have no housing, as everything remains under occupation. They have nowhere to go; they have nowhere to live and nothing to wear.
They are cut off from society and don’t always know where to go to obtain documents or how to renew them. Sometimes they can’t use public transportation because they find it difficult to be around people. They need to undergo rehabilitation with the help of psychologists, psychotherapists, and psychiatrists. But the lack of understanding of these women’s needs is striking.
– What was the outcome of the pilot project on interim reparations for victims of sexual violence?
– Initially, we planned to help 500 people; then we secured resources for over 700, but we received [more than] 1,200 applications, mostly from men. Not all of them received payments because there aren’t enough funds.
Most of the applications came from the Kherson region, which makes sense, since Kherson was [relatively] quickly de-occupied, but the Russian military managed to commit many crimes against the civilian population.
A major advantage of this pilot project is that we have begun to identify a greater number of victims. It ensures confidentiality—the person making the request does not have to provide all the evidence, and most importantly, is not required to contact law enforcement agencies.
We still haven’t overcome the stigma among law enforcement officers themselves, which is why there is often a lack of trust, but we are involved in training law enforcement personnel so that they treat victims with empathy. The organization “YurFem” is doing a lot of work in this area.
– Why is it easier to apply for reparations than to file a report with the police?
– The person doesn’t have to worry about endless interrogations or having to find witnesses. There is a well-established system for verifying testimonies that is non-traumatic for those who come forward.
1,200 is just the number of confirmed cases of sexual violence during captivity or occupation. About 400 people have approached law enforcement agencies. This is a problem because we could demonstrate the scale of such crimes to the world.
In December 2024, four organizations representing victims of sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) sent a letter to UN Secretary-General António Guterres requesting that Russia be included on the “list of shame” (list of shame—the unofficial name for the appendix to the UN’s annual report on crimes against children—ed.) for the numerous cases of sexual violence committed by its military against civilians.
These were two women’s organizations—“Come on, Sisters” and “SEMA Ukraine”—as well as two men’s organizations—“December 29” and another organization representing victims of torture in captivity.
We submitted the letter through the Special Representative of the UN Mission in Ukraine, Matthias Schmale. We are awaiting the Secretary-General’s report. We do not know if our appeal will be addressed, but we hope so.
For three years in a row, Russia has been mentioned in the UN Secretary-General’s annual reports as responsible for the illegal deportation of Ukrainian children. This alone is grounds for barring Russian military personnel from participating in peacekeeping missions around the world—it is the first step toward justice.
We will do everything to ensure the world sees that the SNPC are not isolated incidents, but systematic crimes committed in the temporarily occupied territories against citizens of Ukraine.
– What is your interaction with the International Criminal Court?
– We were in The Hague. Some victims—not just members of our organization or any other, but simply people who have survived SNGP—have appealed to the International Criminal Court through their lawyers.
I personally appealed to the European Court of Human Rights with the help of a lawyer immediately after my release. At that time, we hadn’t yet managed to document all the crimes that occurred during my time at “Izolyatsia” and in the Donetsk pretrial detention center, but my case against Russia was accepted for consideration. Yes, Russia has withdrawn from the ECHR, but I hope the case will still be heard, and I will provide additional testimony.
– What obstacles did you face when you approached law enforcement regarding the SPC?
– After filing a complaint with the Prosecutor General’s Office, I ran into a problem: Ukraine still lacks a single body responsible for these cases. They are handled by the Prosecutor General’s Office, the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU), and the National Police.
My case went through all three of these agencies. There were a great many misunderstandings during the transfer and review of the case, even though I am a public figure who participates in training sessions for law enforcement officers.
I understand that law enforcement agencies are overburdened. They are dealing with a huge number of war crimes that Russia is committing both in the occupied territories and in the free ones—shelling, sabotage, and terrorist attacks.
It is also difficult to prove SNPC crimes in court. Many perpetrators are located in the Russian Federation or in temporarily occupied territories. It is impossible to conduct a medical examination because the crimes occurred 3–5 years ago. Often there are no witnesses, or they fear retaliation because their relatives remain in the occupied territory. And the victims themselves are not always willing to testify due to personal trauma. All of this makes it difficult to prove such cases in court.
There are isolated instances where women who have survived sexual violence publicly testify. But again, the question is whether law enforcement agencies are prepared to provide protection to such people.
– What other difficulties, besides the heavy workload of law enforcement, do victims face?
– Many victims from the Kherson region have reported that one investigator starts the case, but then he is rotated or transferred to another agency, and the case is handed over to someone else. This is a very lengthy process.
When a victim comes forward, they aren’t given a clear roadmap of the process. The person thinks they’ve taken an important step in their life and that justice will be served tomorrow, because they’re being very open about everything.
But again, the investigator may change, or the case may be transferred from one unit to another. The process can be delayed due to shelling, power outages, or personal circumstances in the life of the victim or the investigator.
People are unaware of their right to meet with the investigator accompanied by a lawyer, because our culture assumes that only criminals need a lawyer.
If the victim’s nervous system is exhausted, she doesn’t have the energy to recount traumatic episodes three times—a lawyer can do that, act as a mediator, and arrange meetings and expert examinations. The investigator should not call me, as this could be a trigger.
The victim does not always realize that in order to refer the case to court, it is mandatory to undergo a psychiatric evaluation, which can be highly triggering.
She doesn’t realize that when the case is closed, it’s not the end of the process, because it will be transferred to court, and that’s a whole new journey. The case may be transferred from one judge to another, and hearings may be postponed an endless number of times for various reasons.
The victim also has a family who says, “Why do you need this? You’re constantly having to go somewhere, and it distracts you from family matters.” If a person applies for a job, they have to explain why they are constantly being summoned to court or for interrogations.
Most importantly, the person isn’t sure that confidentiality is maintained during these transfers of the case by judges and investigators. And this, again, is a danger if relatives remain in the temporarily occupied territories.
There are many problems. I would very much like for the victim to be accompanied by both a lawyer and a psychologist. They have the right to be present during interrogations and court hearings. If a psychologist sees that the victim is losing their composure, they could postpone or halt the court hearing.
"A French journalist asked for anatomical details"
– In your opinion, has the law enforcement approach become more ethical over the past two years?
– It’s hard for me to judge, because the investigator handling my case communicates with me very carefully. We already have an understanding of what questions can and cannot be asked. We have an agreement regarding certain boundaries of mine. And I, wanting the investigation to conclude sooner, turn a blind eye to many things. I’m working toward a result, so to speak.
But among the members of our organization is a young girl who lived in the temporarily occupied territory in 2014. She was 10 at the time. Her family was attacked because of their pro-Ukrainian stance. A car with armed soldiers was parked outside their house. Two men burst in, started beating the girl’s mom and dad, smashed the windows, and made threats.
They told the child in great detail what they were going to do to her parents, and they told the parents what they would do to their child. It didn’t happen then [the rape], but the child was aware of the danger and was terribly frightened.
I ran over to help this family and was even forced to turn to the local occupation “administration.” If we hadn’t managed to save them, it could have ended very badly.
At the time, we didn’t realize that a sexual and psychological trauma had occurred. The girl lived with that unprocessed pain for a very long time. Then they left for Mariupol and spent nearly two months under occupation. The girl was already 19 years old. When they were leaving and passing through several Russian checkpoints, she again endured the same threats and groping.
She is now in Germany. She has constant nervous breakdowns and panic attacks; she doesn’t socialize with anyone. After working with a psychologist, she decided she was ready to file a lawsuit because she realized what had happened to her.
And when this girl turned to law enforcement, an investigator called me—as a witness to these events—and asked: “Why didn’t she go to the police right away in 2014?”
I understand how difficult the investigation is. But you’re an investigator. You have to understand that such crimes have no statute of limitations. And this didn’t just happen to an adult, but to a child who couldn’t overcome the consequences for decades.
It seems like we’re constantly talking about this, training law enforcement, and urging victims to come forward. We say: even if it happened at the start of the occupation—come forward, testify.
This is important not only for personal justice, but also to understand the scale of these cases. So that the whole world sees that the war began in 2014, not in 2022. Not all law enforcement officers realize this. Let’s assume this is simply the human factor.
– What can help victims reach out to law enforcement more actively and take on this complex, long-term process?
– You’ve said something very important—a long-term process. People need to be aware of this. We shouldn’t give them false hope by saying, “Just come to us, and we’ll handle everything quickly and perfectly.”
First, we need to explain that this is a multi-stage process that may take a year or a year and a half, but we will try to do everything as quickly as possible.
Second, we need to ensure confidentiality and explain to the person exactly how everything will unfold. There have been many reports from victims that some unknown person calls them, introduces themselves in Russian, and asks, “Did this happen to you?”
Two years ago, when my case was transferred to the SBU, an investigator called me and asked, “Are you so-and-so?” I didn’t realize who it was. I said, “Yes, that’s me.” And he said, “Were you at ‘Izolyatsia’? And what, is it true they did that to you?”
This story triggered me; I started having a panic attack. It was a form of devaluation and a reminder, as they plunged me back into those terrible events because, you see, they’re interested.
Law enforcement and journalists don’t always realize the range of crimes committed by the SNPC. There’s this attitude: if it was direct rape, then it’s a sexual crime, and nothing else matters.
Excuse me, but go through the so-called “intake” procedure at the prison, where men undress you, touch you, and grope you with their hands and sticks. What do you call that?
Or when a woman is detained along with her husband, the husband is simply stripped, tortured with electric shocks to his genitals, and told: “Either you sign now, or we’ll continue to deal with him in more detail, and then we’ll deal with you right in front of him.”
Or when a girl is taken out of her cell at night and supposedly “voluntarily” led “for entertainment” to some sauna, brought back drunk, and she cries and says, “But I went there myself.” And she went only because the next day they would take her to a park to see her young children, the youngest of whom is a year and a half old.
I know this woman, who after several years of such abuse and torture was released from prison without a sentence. She is in the temporarily occupied territory and cannot leave. But she is afraid to even mention it and still believes she is to blame.
– You mentioned journalists. Please give us your basic recommendations on how to behave so that such horrific incidents do not occur: “Tell us about the rape, and we’re not interested in anything else.” – Unfortunately, this was very common just two years ago…
I have great respect and sympathy for journalists who want to learn and understand [how to cover sexual and gender-based violence].
The National Union of Journalists of Ukraine conducted training sessions for journalists. Some of them said afterward: “I realized I wouldn’t be able to conduct such interviews because it’s too traumatic for my mental health. I won’t be able to approach this with both empathy and detachment.”
But I was shocked when, at one of the trainings, a journalist said: “Why did she stay under occupation? It’s her own fault.”
He’s blaming not the perpetrator, but the person who, perhaps, didn’t have time to leave or faced other circumstances, yet remained in her home, on her Ukrainian land. You know, it’s like after World War II: if you stayed under German occupation, then go to Siberia, because it’s your own fault.
This is a very Soviet approach: if something happens to a young woman, she’s always to blame. She wore a skirt that was too short, put on too much makeup, walked down the street too late. They always blamed the victim, because “a man is a man, he has the right to do that.” And now this Soviet mindset is being projected onto the victims who remain under occupation. I’m grateful that practically everyone present at the time was taken aback by this response, reacted, and joined the discussion.
The first rule for journalists is not to blame. The second rule is not to put yourself in the victim’s shoes and say, “I understand.” Even I won’t understand what was happening to Natalya Vlasova, even though we were in the same place. But this is her personal story, her own feelings for her children, for her husband.
I can’t understand a young girl who was leaving the occupied Zaporizhzhia region through the checkpoints, and the Russians asked her: “How old are you? Oh, 18? Then we can let you through.”
Her parents “bought” her back from the Russians so they wouldn’t touch her. She suffered psychological trauma that she still can’t overcome. I was shocked when one person, who had also experienced the war, started saying, “What did she even go through there?”
But this girl, at 18 years old, may have suffered even greater trauma than some adult woman. We cannot fully understand what each person has gone through in a given situation.
In our organization, “competing over grief” is taboo. We agreed right away: every child, every woman, and every man is going through their own terrible tragedies. The question is how they will live with this going forward and how we should help them.
As for journalists, there’s a fine line to walk here: when you sympathize with someone, you have immense empathy, but you don’t violate their boundaries. This is very important.
In my opinion, there is now an understanding that interviews are not conducted to extract details of a specific case, but to hear about the experience itself, about the person.
I was shocked when a French journalist came to interview me and persistently asked about anatomical details. When she started asking what I considered to be strange questions for the third time, I simply stood up and said, “We’re ending this interview.”
I’m glad that Ukrainian journalists do understand that this is not how it should be done. You’re interviewing me not about a single incident, but about Russia’s numerous crimes against Ukraine.
This is an automatic translation generated by DeepL.