“The head of the Baku Detention Center, Elnur Ismayilov, said 'I haven’t taken bribes for 15 days' in early May 2024. During those days when he claimed he wasn’t accepting bribes, he had already been working as the head of the detention center for 7 years. The mystery that forced him to say 'no' to bribes became clear within two weeks. The newly appointed Minister of Justice was scheduled to visit the detention center on May 11."
The employees of "Abzas Media" – Ulvi Hasanli, Sevinc Vagifqizi, Elnara Gasimova, and Nargiz Absalamova – who have been unlawfully imprisoned on false charges, monitored bribery incidents at the 1st Baku Detention Center before and after the Minister's visit. The brief bribery “diet” of the detention center chief began as follows.
The warden gathered the prison staff and said, “From now on, if any complaints are received about someone accepting bribes, I will not protect them, and I will dismiss them.” At that time, some employees were dismissed from their positions, and a new deputy warden was appointed. The employees, leaving the meeting deep in thought, were concerned about how they would manage with their salaries of 600-800 manat.
The prisoners, however, did not believe the prison could operate without bribery. Even though it wasn’t a phone day, female prisoners were still being asked for a bribe of 200 manat a month to be allowed to use the phone every day. They thought, “Maybe the bribe amount has been raised,” and offered more money, but the door was still closed on them.
The prisoners who had phone days didn’t knock on doors to complain, asking, “Why are those who don’t have phone days using the phone, while we, whose turn it is, are left without one?” When the female prisoners returned from visits, their money wasn’t touched. Those wishing to change their cells weren’t told, “You must pay 200 manat to move to a two-person cell.” They tried to resolve any disputes between prisoners without conflict.
Silence had settled in the prison’s noisy hallways. Everyone was wondering the same question: “How long will this last?” While the inside of the prison was quiet, the sounds of construction work filled the air outside. Flowerpots were being brought in, grass was being trimmed, and the walls were being painted. The prison was preparing to receive a guest.
On May 11, it became clear that this guest was the newly appointed Minister of Justice, Farid Ahmadov. Female prisoners were peeking through the peepholes of their doors, waiting for the minister’s arrival at the wing. The minister, however, left without speaking to any prisoners, merely admiring the flowers, plants, and freshly cut grass before leaving.
About a month after he left, the collection of bribes began to continue in the office of the psychologist and the corps' regime chief. As soon as the doors opened in the morning, those who were not scheduled for phone calls gathered around the phone again. Those returning from family visits were taken into the psychologist’s office under the pretext of a “check-up” and handed 10, 20, 30, or 50 manat to the guards, the psychologist, the chief guard, and the regime officer, saying, “What do you need all this money for?” before leaving the room. The amount of the bribe taken from the prisoners fluctuated according to their financial means.
There were prisoners who paid 10 manat for a 10-minute phone call, and others who paid 5 manat. For placement in a two-person cell, 200 manat was taken, and sometimes 300 or 500 manat. A prisoner could be placed in a neat, well-kept, and friendly 4-5-person cell for 100 manat.
Since our cellmates have left the detention center, we can now say that two female prisoners placed in Cell 40 were asked for a bribe. The chief guard, Nazakat Mammadova, who told them they would be given a comfortable, neat room, had requested a "respect" [bribe] from them. Nazakat Mammadova, who is now retired, stated that this was at the request of the regime officer at that time, Major Adalat Gurbanov. In our conversation with Adalat Gurbanov, he denied asking for a bribe. However, prisoners wishing to meet their families face-to-face, rather than through the glass partition, must also have their hands in their pockets.
Article 12.1.12 of the Law on "Ensuring the Rights and Freedoms of Persons Held in Detention" states that “the detainee’s lawyer, legal representative, close relatives, and other persons with a legal interest have the right to ensure meetings with the detainee.” However, prisoners must pay 200 manat to meet their uncles or aunts through the glass.
Receiving medical treatment also requires a bribe here. Connecting to the system costs 20 manat, while receiving a referral to a medical facility ranges from 200 to 500 manat. Dr. Guney Hasanova, who denies accepting bribes, forgets that the money she takes behind the partition in her office is reflected in the mirror of her cabinet.
Moreover, some of the medications sent by families to the prisoners go missing. Medications worth 27-73 manat are "lost" and appropriated under the pretext of being misplaced. Kamala Mammadova, a prisoner in the detention center, also encountered this situation.
"I have been suffering from both insomnia and hair loss for a while now. A portion of my hair has started falling out in clumps. I became scared and consulted a doctor. After a few questions and answers, she prescribed injections and medication to stop both the sleep issue and hair loss. I informed my relatives, and they brought the medications. However, not all of them reached me; part of them remained with Dr. Guney," said Kamala Mammadova.
According to her, she was only able to use the medication she had for five days, and the rest of the treatment was incomplete and ineffective because the doctor didn’t send the remaining medication.
In the detention center, we can observe that the psychologist also practices the profession of a lawyer to extort money from prisoners. Psychologist Tarana Guliyeva charges female prisoners 30 manat to write an appeal.
Prisoners are not only forced to part with their money, but in many cases, they are also compelled to share their food. Guards often ask prisoners in certain cells to cook meals for them. These meals are mostly prepared with the prisoners' own food supplies.
In the detention center, not every money is accepted. One of our cellmates, returning from a visit, gave 5 manat to a guard and said, "You would have some tea!" The guard replied, "Thank you, but you can't get tea for 5 manat outside." This way, prisoners become aware of the price increase outside during their time in detention.
The amount of time a prisoner will wait in the detention center’s waiting area before going to court also depends on money. You must give at least 10 manat for them not to take you out of the cell at 8 a.m. and wait for hours in a room smelling of cigarettes before your noon court session. Furthermore, a bribe is also required to be transported not in a cramped, stuffy cabin, but in a “Fiat Doblo” car.
When the detention center received “Doblo” cars, prisoners were happy, thinking they would be transported to court in a comfortable vehicle. However, when the prisoners first got into these cars, employees of the Penitentiary Service asked for a "bribe." One of the prisoners had to explain to the employee that this was not a wedding car, but a prisoner transport vehicle.
What creates the ground for bribery in the detention center?
According to the law, detained individuals must have personal accounts, and their families should transfer money to these accounts. Cash should not enter the detention center, but this provision of the law is violated. Instead of cash transfers, large sums of money flow into the detention center through a small hole opened in the visitation area. We have witnessed instances where male prisoners, wishing to bring in more money than the allowed amount, have said, "The warden knows, he gave permission," after which the money was allowed to pass. The warden agrees to the entry of large sums of money into the detention center because a portion of it inevitably ends up in his pocket.
Warden Elnur Ismayilov gives a "certificate of appreciation" once a year to exemplary prisoners who follow the rules of the regime. These prisoners are typically those who pay large bribes to the detention center staff. It is said that the "certificate of appreciation" will benefit prisoners in their court proceedings, and if they are sent to a correctional facility, it will help them there as well. In reality, the "certificate of appreciation" is nothing but a money trap. The "certificate of appreciation" costs prisoners 20 manat.
One of the illegal sources of income for the prison management is the commission they organize to send requests from convicted workers in the prison's economic department to the court. After serving two-thirds of their sentence, when prisoners give 500 manat in "respect" to this commission, they are considered exemplary and rehabilitated.
Thus, a positive character reference and presentation are sent to the court, and they can be released early based on the court's decision. However, if you're exemplary, rehabilitated, and have "certificates of appreciation" but don’t have 500 manat, you cannot enter the commission, submit a positive reference to the court, and apply for early release.
Another bribery mechanism in the detention center revolves around newly arrived prisoners. The head of the "Kars-quarantine" section, a major named Ilgar, empties the pockets of prisoners as soon as they arrive and checks the amount of money they have. Then, he takes 70-80% of that money and asks for "blessings."
For example, if you have 100 manat, 70 manat goes to Ilgar; if you have 200 manat, 150 manat goes to his pocket. In addition, Ilgar offers prisoners a way out of quarantine faster if they pay 200-300 manat. Some new prisoners, wanting to avoid staying in the cockroach-infested, unsanitary, unbearable conditions of quarantine cells, use this "service" to escape as quickly as possible.
Of course, all these processes occur under the authority and control of Warden Elnur Ismayilov, reflecting how long he has followed his bribery diet.