Torture, pain, and despair: how Russia kidnaps Ukrainian civilians and why it’s so difficult to liberate them

Hundreds, if not thousands, of Ukrainian civilians are still held hostage in Russian captivity. Retrieving such individuals is indeed quite difficult, and the mechanism for doing so has not yet been established. Furthermore, Russians often classify civilians as prisoners of war. How to repatriate them to Ukraine and why this process is dragging on — read in the article.

Correspondent of 24 Kanal in Brussels, Sofia Nazarenko, spoke with three Ukrainians about how Russians treat civilian hostages who have been kidnapped, as well as the attempts to create a separate mechanism for their liberation. She also learned about the difficulties the state faces during this process and how the Red Cross operates.

Who in Ukraine is responsible for the issue of liberating civilian hostages and why is it such a complex process?

On the Ukrainian side, the Coordination Headquarters for the Treatment of Prisoners of War, together with the Human Rights Ombudsman Dmytro Lubinets, are working on the matter of returning civilian hostages.

In a comment to 24 Kanal, Petro Yatsenko, the head of the press service of the Coordination Headquarters, noted that since the start of the full-scale invasion in temporarily occupied territories, Russia has unrestricted ability to detain civilians, although this contradicts all norms of international humanitarian law.

Civilians cannot be treated as prisoners of war, and civilians cannot be held in prisons. However, the occupying authorities and the aggressor country often attempt to accuse civilians of resisting the so-called “ATO” (Anti-Terrorist Operation) and based on these accusations, they keep them in captivity, explained Petro Yatsenko.

According to the spokesperson of the Coordination Headquarters, it’s very difficult to determine the whereabouts of civilian hostages. Additionally, the situation is complicated by the fact that the Ukrainian side cannot exchange these individuals for Russian military personnel.

“In this way, we would create a precedent where Russians could capture any civilian, hold them hostage, and demand the return of their military personnel. We only exchange military personnel for military personnel, as stipulated in the Geneva Conventions and international law,” Petro Yatsenko declares.

The Coordination Headquarters informed 24 Kanal that they have information about all civilians held in Russian captivity. Furthermore, they continue to gather information to have the ability to release them at any opportunity.

Throughout the entire period of the Coordination Headquarters’ activity since March 2022, they have managed to release 2,598 individuals, among whom 141 were civilians. Petro Yatsenko urged Ukrainians whose relatives are held hostage in Russia to appeal to the international community and international human rights organizations, demanding economic and political pressure on Russia.

The spokesperson of the headquarters also emphasized the need for various informational campaigns in the West to highlight this issue, as civilians are defenseless in Russian captivity.

Human Rights Commissioner Dmytro Lubinets and the Office of the Ombudsman, which directly coordinates the issue of civilian hostages, did not respond to 24 Kanal’s inquiry.

Unpublicized visits and delays in notifying relatives: what the Red Cross is engaged in

To clarify the situation regarding how the Red Cross assesses the condition of prisoners of war and civilian hostages, we also spoke with the spokesperson of the International Committee of the Red Cross in Ukraine, Oleksandr Vlasenko.

According to him, visits to prisoners of war occur privately to gain the widest possible access to those who are illegally held. Violations observed during visits are also not disclosed.

“We are in dialogue with the administration of the facility where these individuals are held. If this doesn’t help and we see that these violations are not resolved before our next visit, we escalate the matter to a higher level, usually the Ministry of Justice or any relevant agency overseeing the detention facility,” explains Oleksandr Vlasenko.

Meanwhile, in a comment to 24 Kanal, the spokesperson for the International Committee of the Red Cross, Matthew Carter, stated that access to prisoners of war remains a priority for the ICRC. As of today, the organization has visited over 1500 prisoners of war from both sides.

“The specific number of prisoners of war and the internment locations we have visited are part of our confidential bilateral dialogue with the conflict parties. We are working to confidentially influence the conflict parties to specifically improve the conditions of detention for prisoners of war and to offer some relief to their families, rather than discussing the details of our work in public,” explained Carter.

The International Committee of the Red Cross emphasizes that visits take place in both Russia and Ukraine, although not always in accordance with the norms of international humanitarian law. The spokesperson of the ICRC delegation stated that the organization currently does not have access to all prisoners of war and is negotiating to gain access to individuals on their own terms.


See also: Killing of prisoners of war in Olenivka and search for survivors: what are international organizations doing? Results of the trip to Geneva


This means that during visits, we can talk to individuals without a representative from the institution where they are held, in order to have a sincere conversation. Additionally, we must have access to all facilities used by these individuals — toilets, shower rooms, kitchens, medical-sanitary facilities, explained Oleksandr Vlasenko, emphasizing that there should be no restrictions from the administration’s side.

According to Matthew Carter, during such visits, representatives of the ICRC not only assess the conditions of detention and treatment of prisoners of war but also provide an opportunity for the prisoners of war to exchange short messages with their families.

The spokesperson of the ICRC delegation in Ukraine states that all individuals whose whereabouts are unknown are considered missing. The Red Cross has established a search agency in Geneva that collects data on missing persons.

If individuals wish to locate their missing relatives, they must fill out an electronic form. After this, the Red Cross forwards the request to the national information bureau of the other party.

“If they have information about this person and inform us, we immediately inform the relatives who have opened a case with us, as well as the other party’s NIB (national information bureau). It may happen that we won’t be the ones to notify, but rather the other party’s NIB,” explained Vlasenko regarding the delay in informing relatives.

The spokesperson of the delegation stated that the timing of informing relatives about the hostages depends on how quickly the organization itself receives this information. Currently, there is no document that establishes the timeframe for providing a response.

“There are cases when we don’t receive any response at all because there is no information about that individual. In such cases, we have nothing to inform the relatives, even if they saw him (the hostage – ed.) on a Telegram channel,” explained Vlasenko.

Matthew Carter, the spokesperson for the International Committee of the Red Cross, emphasizes that ICRC representatives maintain contact with people whose relatives are in captivity.

“We know that there are still many prisoners of war and civilian detainees who have not been visited by ICRC representatives. We also know that their families often suffer, having no news about their loved ones. We regularly communicate with the families of prisoners of war who are searching for information about their relatives,” says Matthew Carter.

According to the spokesperson of the ICRC delegation in Ukraine, if information about an individual is absent from the national information bureau, then during visits to prisoners of war, Red Cross workers can identify new individuals. As for civilian hostages, access to such individuals is very limited.

“Where international law does not apply, each party starts blocking us and saying that it’s an internal matter. Domestic law comes into play, and we, so to speak, deal with this case ourselves,” added Oleksandr Vlasenko, noting that the Red Cross documents such hostages.

To draw the attention of the international community to this tragedy, three Ukrainians visited Brussels:

Vasyl Khylyuk — the father of Dmytro Khylyuk, a Ukrainian journalist.

Yulia Khrypun — co-founder of the civil organization Civilians in Captivity and the daughter of Serhhiy Khrypun, who was abducted by Russians.

They were also joined by Mykola Zakhozhy — a former civilian hostage who was held captive by Russians for almost a year.

The world must find levers of influence on Moscow

You have come to Brussels. Please tell us about the purpose of your visit and whether you plan to have meetings at an official level with European politicians? What is your main message to them?

Yulia Khrypun speaks:

We came to Brussels specifically to convey information about civilian hostages to the international community.

Unfortunately, the stories of civilians get lost amid the horrifying events currently taking place in Ukraine. Civilian hostages are also often confused or grouped together with those individuals who were deported from the temporarily occupied territories, but that’s an entirely different category. This is our personal misfortune as well.

This is exactly what we came to convey. We will have meetings in the European Parliament; we have already spoken with delegations from Estonia and Poland.


See also: Between Russian and Hungarian captivity: how the “game” with 11 Ukrainian soldiers led Orban into the Kremlin trap


Vasyl Khylyuk speaks: We will appeal to the international community so that they don’t forget that this is a grave problem. Civilians have been in prison for a year and a half, and no one is addressing this.

Mykola Zakhozhy: Maybe they could establish a separate group to address this issue. The Red Cross doesn’t make much sense, as they are not allowed anywhere.

In your opinion, does the international community pay enough attention to Ukrainian hostages, particularly civilians? Do you believe they have tools to pressure Moscow?

Mykola Zakhozhy: I believe they have more leverage than the Ukrainian government does. If we manage to reach out to them…

Yulia Khrypun: Our main goal is to convey that this is a widespread problem — it’s not about 10 or 20 people, it’s about thousands. They have the opportunity to help Ukraine cope with this plight. They need to understand and hear us, which is why we travel and personally share our stories, what we’ve experienced and continue to experience. There must be some mechanisms, some levers; I believe they have them.

Our main message is the establishment of a separate working group and increasing pressure on the Kremlin to release civilian hostages. They are the most vulnerable, and what Russia is currently doing doesn’t fall under the Geneva Conventions. We haven’t encountered this before, nor has the international community. No one thought this would happen. That’s why we need to generate ideas now about how these people can survive and return.

If we’re not prisoners of war or internees, or whatever they call us, we don’t fall under the Geneva Convention. They (Russians) should simply release us due to the absence of open cases. Civil cases are not opened against us, we haven’t broken any laws that would justify imprisoning us in Russia when we were on Ukrainian territory during our abduction, — Mykola Zakhozhy justifiably voices the outrage.

Vasyl Khylyuk: We’re asking them to remind our own authorities that this problem exists. Our authorities are also silent; maybe they would like to release us, but for now, they are silent…

The story of Vasyl Khylyuk, the father of the abducted Ukrainian journalist

Vasyl Khylyuk is the father of Ukrainian UNIAN journalist Dmytro Khylyuk, who was kidnapped by Russians during the occupation of the Kyiv region. At the beginning of the full-scale invasion, Dmytro was with his parents in the village of Kozarovychi.

“On March 2, 2022, a shell hit our house. My wife, Dmytro’s mother, is sick, and I took her to the neighbors. When I was returning, we were surrounded in the yard by five Russian soldiers with rifles. They started shooting. Then they put us on the ground, searched us, tied our hands, blindfolded us, and took us somewhere. Later, they separated us. They took Dmytro further, and I was locked in the basement. I didn’t know where they took my son. We were kept in the basement for ten days, then they moved us,” Vasyl Khylyuk recounts.

“There, I met my son. After two days, they released me, but they took Dmytro… Later, we realized that they had taken him to Russia. We don’t know exactly where our son is now. According to rumors, he’s in Novozybkov, Bryansk Oblast, but we’re not sure if he’s still there,” adds Vasyl Khylyuk.

Vasyl Khylyuk: The last time I saw my son when I was in captivity with him on March 11, 2022. They read out a list, released five people from the village, but they didn’t release my son. I asked our commander who he was there and why they weren’t releasing my son. He evaded the question, saying, “Don’t worry, he’ll come home in a few days because the war will end soon.”

They took him out with his hands and eyes tied. It was the same with all of captured until they were released. After that, all the captured waited for any news through the Red Cross or its efforts. At work, they said that Russia confirmed it, but they needed to remain silent to secure his release, not to disclose anything, as it would only harm him. They kept silent for over half a year; journalists came to them, but they didn’t push as they are doing now.

International journalists heard that my son was kept in solitary confinement, but it wasn’t clear why. Others from the village are also being held in this city. An acquaintance said that these people were placed in a shared cell.

And then they learned the information through the Red Cross. They were called only recently. They said they had wanted to call for a long time but didn’t have the number. Before that, the Red Cross conveyed that my son Dmytro was transferred to the Volgograd region. Russians identified my son as a prisoner of war. The Red Cross worker who called him said that he personally hadn’t seen my son, but his colleagues who are constantly in Moscow had seen him.

Dmytro asked to convey: “I am in prison, tell through UNIAN that I am alive.”

One man was released from captivity after two months; he was a retired policeman. He was also in Novozybkov. He said he hadn’t heard any surnames, but he knew that a journalist was held in that prison.

Regarding torture, my acquaintance said they beat them severely, make them crawl on the ground, punish for everything, don’t allow sitting or lying down. But this varies with the shifts, so there are some slight relaxations at times.

“Tortured and beaten with electric shocks”: The story of Yulia Khrypun, whose father was kidnapped in the Zaporizhzhia region

Yulia Khrypun, co-founder of the civic organization Civilian Hostages, and daughter of civilian Serhiy Khrypun, who was kidnapped by Russians. Her father had left for a work shift even before the full-scale war began, from where he was later abducted by Russian military.

Yulia Khrypun: I saw my father before the full-scale war began, but his last contact with me was on March 24, 2022. That was our last phone conversation. On February 22, 2022, he went to work.

My father worked as a regular security guard, guarding empty grain warehouses. He was in civilian attire, unarmed. The city where my father worked in the Zaporizhzhia region was occupied almost immediately, so he couldn’t leave. For a month, he lived with Russian soldiers, as they set up their camp on the warehouse premises.

On March 24, my father called me for the last time at 7 in the morning and said, “Hooray, daughter, they’ve left.” People in the village started leaving their homes; no one understood what was happening, why they were leaving. And we began to look for a way to leave. My father and two of his colleagues remained at the warehouse; they didn’t have any documents. Then my father called again at 10:40 and said that two large Kamaz trucks had arrived, driving around the territory. These were new soldiers, as villagers said, possibly from the Donetsk direction. And after that, he never answered his phone again.

For two days, we tried to call because it often happened that Russians jammed the communication, and my dad couldn’t talk on the phone in their presence. I didn’t sleep all night, I was thinking about what to do, perhaps feeling that something had happened. There were instances where my dad sent me messages to top up his phone account, and I thought it was the Russian soldiers who took his phone away.

His mother, my grandmother, called the supervisor who was also at that facility. The supervisor said that since March 24, my father and his colleagues were not at the warehouse. They looked at the surveillance cameras and saw that these two Kamaz trucks had arrived, taken them with their eyes blindfolded and bags over their heads.

After they were taken away, the only news we received from him during captivity was a letter written at the end of March and delivered at the end of August. It had a standard phrase that everyone wrote: “I am being fed, there’s medical care,” although we knew it wasn’t true. At the end, he added the phrase, “Please, mom, wait for me, I will definitely return.”

This was the only news from him; other information comes only from witnesses, as neither the authorities nor the Red Cross provide any data. We have to search on our own. I found witnesses or they found me, because my dad asked them to get in touch with me. One witness even found me through my workplace; he wrote a letter to my workplace, which was then passed on to me, and we got in touch.

I know that they tortured and electrocuted my dad. I know they made him crawl on his elbows, that he lost his voice, they broke his ribs, fractured his legs. But in the records, it’s written that his health condition is satisfactory because that’s what Russia stated.

I only have this data until the beginning of September; since then, there’s been no information, no witnesses. The only confirmation I have is from the Red Cross and Russia, stating that my dad is officially a captive, held in a colony. Of course, Russians gave him the status of a prisoner of war, even though he hadn’t even had a chance to join the Ukrainian Armed Forces or Territorial Defense, as he found himself in the occupied territory. He had only served in the army a long time ago.


See also: “We were asked to remain silent, and then a terrorist attack happened in Olenivka.” Wife of the captured Azov soldier speaks about the investigation of the crime by the Russian Federation


Yulia Khrypun: Geneva contacted me twice; I submitted a lot of requests. These were strange phone conversations because after two months, they called me and informed me that my father was in captivity. Even though I had sent them three letters with all the information I could gather. The last call from Geneva was about two months ago, and they once again informed me that my father was in captivity. It’s quite amusing because almost a year and a half had passed since he was captured. They told me they had seen him. At that point, he had been transferred to occupied Simferopol. Before that, we had meetings with the president of the Red Cross, and her colleagues informed us that they managed to visit some detention facilities in Crimea.

I know that the Red Cross was supposed to deliver some medication, belongings. During the call, I asked if they had delivered anything to my father. They said they didn’t have that information. I asked if they had transported him anywhere else; they replied — they don’t know. I asked if he had written anything, if he wanted to send a message or if they said they would contact me. The Red Cross managed to see my father at the end of last summer, and they called me two months ago. I inquired why they were calling after such a long time, and they said they were short-staffed.

“In the cell, you have to stand the whole day”: the story of Mykola Zakhozhy, who was held in Russian captivity

Mykola Zakhozhy, a former civilian hostage, captured in March 2022 while on his way home, shared his experience of being held captive in a Russian colony.

Mykola Zakhozhy: Russians arrested me in early March 2022 when I was returning home. They interrogated me for several days, trying to gather information about the whereabouts of Ukrainian troops.

After the interrogations, we were in great fear. They doused us with fuel, threatened to set us on fire, fired rifles near us. I don’t know the exact number of us; my eyes were blindfolded. According to people’s voices, there were about 20 of us civilians, like me. They simply had us lying on the ground, and the bombs that were flying towards Russian positions were exploding nearby. We were lucky, and no one was injured.

They put us on a helicopter, then onto an airplane, and we ended up in the Kursk region. From the airfield, they transferred us to a tent camp, where more than a hundred people — civilians and military personnel were staying together. We stayed there for several days, after which we were transferred to Kursk Detention Center No. 1.

The most terrifying event is the ‘reception’ when the guards line up, we run one by one, and they beat us with shockers, batons, and if by any chance you fall, you must make it to the end. On the streets, the abuse continued for several hours, after which we were taken to our cell and left in peace on the first day. These tortures continued every day; they would take us out of the cell, beat us, humiliate us. When they took us to the shower, they beat us along the way. This shower can’t be called a proper shower since it had cold water and lasted only two minutes.

Periodically, they would take us one by one from the cell for interrogations, DNA samples, of course, without our consent. In the cell, we had to stand the whole day; people’s legs swelled, skin cracked, and bled. The windows were blocked, and you couldn’t see daylight; you constantly lived under the lights. As for the food, they might provide different types, but it’s very little. The portion is extremely small; a normal person won’t get full from this portion, not even close to replenishing the calories burned. The conditions are absolutely different from those of Russian captives.

We spent about a month in Kursk, and then they transferred a portion of captives to the Tula region. Captives from the Belgorod region were also transported there. There, once again, we faced the ‘reception’ from the guards, where they beat us, but afterward, they left us alone for 3 – 4 days. Later, it all started again. There were 14 people in my cell and about 20 in the neighboring one, all of us were civilians.

I have two sons born in 2010 and 2015. My wife managed to tell my older son about what happened to me, while she told my younger son that I’m on a business trip and can’t come back. During the holidays, my wife would buy gifts for my younger son and pretended they were sent by me through mail. I have elderly parents, so while being in captivity, I was very afraid that if I stayed there for too long, I wouldn’t be able to see them again.

Did you have the opportunity to inform your family about your condition?

Guards came to us, handed out sheets, and told us to write that we are provided with food and water, allowed to take showers, and everything is fine with us. As for the Red Cross and other organizations, during my 340 days in captivity, I never saw anyone from them.

If some organization occasionally visited us, Russians wouldn’t be able to constantly beat us. It would be unacceptable if someone saw them doing that.

Informing my family was possible only by passing on information through people who were in the same cell. Everyone knew each other’s addresses and last names, and we agreed that if someone was released first, they would tell all families. In March, the guys were exchanged, even from Kursk.

They got in touch with my family, then they exchanged someone else, and they also relayed information about me to my family. So, it was all done through people. We weren’t allowed to contact our families. I see that Russian captives constantly call their families, while we had no idea whether our relatives were alive or if our territories were under occupation. We were completely devoid of information.

Were you informed about what was happening in Ukraine?

Until October 2022, we had no idea about what was happening in Ukraine. Then, for a while, they started playing propagandists for us, like Solovyov. Through these news reports, we learned that some of our territories had already been de-occupied, the Crimean Bridge was blown up, and so-called referendums were taking place in the occupied territories. However, they only included these news updates for us for a short period — about three weeks.

“Alone, they don’t hear us”: about founding Civilians in Captivity and the number of civilian hostages

Yulia, you are a co-founder of the NGO Civilians in Captivity, could you please tell us when you founded the organization and what you are engaged in?

Yulia Khrypun: Initially, when our relatives ended up in captivity, there was absolutely no information about the captives, and I believe, in my personal opinion, that it was hardest for the captives at the beginning. It was the start of the full-scale war, and Russia didn’t understand what the consequences could be.

Those who were torturing both military and civilian hostages were counting on “Kyiv in three days.” So, those who ended up in captivity immediately faced the worst. Russians felt impunity, that they could solve everything.

There were no organizations specifically dealing with civilians at all. We decided to establish the NGO Civilians in Captivity. Officially, my colleagues and I founded the organization in December 2022. Since none of us had prior experience, we took on this task because all the members shared a common plight. Currently, it’s an association of relatives so that we understand how to proceed. Everything we knew was that individually, we aren’t heard. When we approached authorities or attempted to highlight specific stories through journalists, it didn’t work.

We decided to come together; we are now pushing for action from the Office of the Ombudsman and everything within Ukraine’s territory. We also communicate with international journalists, seeking their support. However, overall, our actions are directed towards the Ukrainian government. We understand that to get them to take action, they need to be pushed, and they themselves admit this.

During the state of war, the Coordination Headquarters for the Treatment of Prisoners of War, was established, outlining its capabilities. Currently, it has been proposed to create a working group for the affairs of civilian hostages. This group was announced in December 2022, but it has been under establishment for half a year and hasn’t effectively started its work yet. We want to see tangible progress because for the past one and a half years, we’ve heard only words about working, but there haven’t been any results.

When we attended in-person meetings at the coordination headquarters and the Office of the Ombudsman, the conversation was centered around their work. Their sole argument is based on the Geneva Conventions. Of course, the rhetoric of the families has taken a different direction; now they’re not asking but demanding.

We also collaborated with the Ukrainian Red Cross. They provided psychologists and one-time financial assistance. We all filled out applications for it. Currently, we have about 300 people. We’re compiling a separate list, and we bring this list to every meeting. We also communicate with those released from captivity. We visit Sanzhary. When they are undergoing rehabilitation, we show photos of the people we have on the list. If anyone has seen them, we pass on the information to their relatives, confirming that they are alive. We pass this information to the Authorized Office to change the status of missing persons to prisoners of war.

Vasyl Khylyuk: Those of us from the Kyiv region, from the Dymer community, have united — parents and relatives of hostages. We organized a campaign called Freedom for Civilian Hostages. We walked from Dymer to the district center of Vyshhorod. There we held a protest, they came out to us, received a petition, and that was the end of it. We chanted in villages, in Vyshhorod, but no one hears us. Later, the Demydiv community staged a protest in Shevchenko Park, but I didn’t go there myself.

Yulia, as a co-founder of Civilian in Captivity, can you provide an approximate number of civilians remaining in Russian captivity?

Yulia Khrypun: 22,000 — these are the words of the Ombudsman, but it’s not quite the full story. There are indeed thousands, but the Ombudsman might want to emphasize the magnitude of the problem with such a large number. Among these 20,000, the Ombudsman includes those who were deported to the territories of Russia and Belarus.

These are not hostages who are being held captive. These are confirmed civilians, but this isn’t official information. There are around a thousand of them. However, people from the occupied territories don’t submit reports to the Ombudsman because they are also taken captive there, and they have no means to report it.

What advice can you give to the families of those who remain in Russian captivity? How can they maintain hope?

Vasyl Khylyuk: I don’t know how to not lose it, so what advice could I give? I need someone to advise me.

Yulia Khrypun: That’s true. Even when you need to speak at a protest or in front of the international community, you try to keep yourself together. When you talk to people and see that they are losing hope, and you need to say something to support them, but you don’t have that energy left in you.

Vasyl is right — someone should advise us. It’s very difficult due to the uncertainty — you don’t know where, what, how, and most importantly, when will this end? You worry about your loved ones because while we sleep and eat, they not only endure torture but also remain in an informational void.

Originally posted by Sofia Nazarenko on 24 Kanal. Translated and edited by the UaPosition – Ukrainian news and analytics website


See also: State-kidnapper: How Russia kidnaps Ukrainian orphans and raises them as Russians


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