"Don't ask how a mother in emigration feels without her children." Former political prisoner Hanna Papai tells how she adapts to a new life
Former political prisoner Hanna Papai now lives in Poland, eagerly awaits reunion with her children, and dreams of owning a cafe in Minsk. Politzek.me writes about how she is adapting to her new life and what she dreams of. You can also support Hanna with a donation right now.
Hanna Papai. Photo: Politzek.me
Without a home, without a job, without children
Hanna Papai is 46 years old. She has three children. She is from Zhlobin, graduated from Minsk State Linguistic University, and lived in Minsk for many years. Almost her entire career was connected with the banking sector: she worked with clients, providing consultations.
Hanna Papai was sentenced in Belarus to two and a half years of imprisonment for donations. She went through a pre-trial detention center and penal colony No. 4 in Gomel, and in December 2025, she found herself in a group of political prisoners who, after a visit by an American delegation to Minsk, were deported from Belarus through Ukraine to Poland. A new stage in Hanna's life began in Poland: without a home, without her usual job. And without the opportunity to hug her children.
Today, Hanna Papai works in a Warsaw bakery, baking croissants, and also creates custom cakes and desserts.
Hanna Papai at work in the bakery. Photo: Politzek.me
"Rain, rain, pour down, chase the old woman from the field!"
Simply waking up in the morning, simply going outside, simply buying coffee, simply calling loved ones. For many people, these are ordinary things, but for Hanna, they are an immense value for which she paid a very high price. She admits: her ability to not give up comes from childhood.
"I had a good childhood. I had many things that other children didn't: an 'Aist' bicycle, skates — always the right size, and skis. My parents often spent time with us. Every year we went to the seaside. I felt very happy."
Hanna Papai. Photo: Politzek.me
What did she dream of as a child? Hanna smiles when she recalls the funny wishes of a child who had everything.
"My dad had a farm. And my brother, sister, and I often dreamed for the rain to come when we had to weed strawberries. Remember: 'Rain, rain, pour down, chase the old woman from the field'? What a joy it was when it started!"
The colony no longer appears in dreams as often
At the time of this conversation, five months had passed since her release. According to Hanna, memories of imprisonment are still present, but no longer control her thoughts.
"Memories of the colony and pre-trial detention center are slowly fading. They no longer appear in dreams as often as before. There's a feeling that this stage is truly behind me. A new life is beginning.
I understand that I am now safe and no longer need to fear people in uniform.
Recently, I saw a police van in Warsaw. It was very beautiful and modern, but it aroused in me exclusively an aesthetic interest."
The realization of freedom came the day after her release.
"That's when I first managed to video call my children and parents. It was at that moment that the feeling came – it's all over."
Hanna Papai. Photo: Politzek.me
She didn't imagine her release like this
In captivity, Hanna imagined the day of her release. And that day looked completely different from what actually happened.
"The most unexpected thing was that I wasn't home, but here. I didn't expect things to turn out this way.
Forced emigration was the biggest surprise. And then there was Ukraine. I didn't think I would be able to go there before the war ended, but it turned out differently."
One of the strongest memories of the first days of freedom for Hanna remains the meeting organized for the released political prisoners.
"We were met at the Belarusian Solidarity Center in Warsaw. At the time, it seemed natural. But later I realized what an enormous effort went into organizing a meeting for almost a hundred people. To give attention to everyone, feed everyone, find words of support for everyone. Such a thing is impossible to forget!"
"How are you without your children? Do you miss them?"
Hanna says that time flows differently in prison. A person is left alone with themselves, their fears, and their thoughts. Hanna tried not to concentrate on the past:
"I thought that everything passes and this too shall pass. I thought that someone else was having an even harder time than me right now. After all, I am alive. I thought about my mother, about my children, about my beloved person who was waiting for me. About the future. I even calculated how old I would be when I got out."
It turned out that these thoughts about the future became her anchor.
"I imagined what lay ahead. But memories, on the contrary, often led to a depressed state.
When you start recalling your former life, you realize how much you've lost. It's very painful. It's a pity for every day spent in captivity. Every such day could have been filled with happiness."
The main dream during imprisonment was freedom.
"Of course, I dreamed of freedom. And then already about meeting my loved ones. I imagined this separately."
However, after her release, it turned out that freedom does not always mean returning home. For Hanna, all questions about her children are painful; this topic "bleeds" for her.
"People often ask: 'How are you without your children? Do you miss them?'"
I don't understand why people ask such questions. It is terribly hard for me to be here without them. My heart literally bleeds."
Hanna shows photos of her sons, whom she misses dearly. Photo: Politzek.me
Hanna tries not to pass by schools and kindergartens. She avoids such places.
"If I do pass by, I always think that my sons could also be attending this school, returning home every day. But I am deprived of this. They are growing up without me.
This is the most terrible thing – separation from children. So don't ask mothers in emigration how they are without their children. It is SO HARD for them that you don't need to know."
Letters – immense happiness
In captivity, support is measured not only by money or things. Sometimes support can be held in one's hands – in the form of a letter.
"Letters and parcels from relatives helped me a lot. In the pre-trial detention center, letters from my beloved reached me. Then there was a short period after the trial when friends' letters were allowed through. That was immense happiness."
In the colony, correspondence was only possible with close relatives.
"I have many relatives. My mother, father, brother, sister, eldest daughter wrote to me. My mother conveyed greetings from my beloved and friends. Thanks to this, I understood: I was not forgotten, I was awaited."
Hanna says that such support helps her even now.
"Friends, friends of friends, complete strangers who participate in fundraisers for former political prisoners, help. Volunteers help. This support is very tangible and very important. I am infinitely grateful to everyone."
Hanna bought these peonies for herself. "I adore this scent, flowers make me very happy." Photo: Politzek.me
"It turned out I'm not so easy to break"
Hanna talks about her imprisonment quite calmly. But there are things that still evoke very strong emotions.
"I didn't know I could survive all of it. It turned out I'm not so easy to break."
The most terrible trial was not physical discomfort and difficulties, but human betrayal.
"There, they call it snitching. The system of pressure is organized in such a way that many people break and start informing on their comrades in misfortune.
Political prisoners have it especially hard. Many don't endure. I endured. There's a small reason for pride."
Unexpectedly for herself, Hanna discovered her sewing abilities in the colony.
"It turned out I could sew quite well. School labor lessons weren't in vain. For five months I worked in a factory where we sewed jackets. I was entrusted with rather complex operations: hemming sleeves, assembling hoods. And I managed perfectly. Unexpected release cut short my 'career' as a novice seamstress."
And in the colony, Hanna's long-standing love for desserts and sweets never disappeared.
"Of course, you can't really bake there: there's no oven. But I think they could have at least put a few stoves in the kitchen. Washing machines and refrigerators are in every detachment, after all.
But we still made little cakes – from store-bought cake bases, condensed milk, butter, and nuts. Sometimes they turned out really very tasty and beautiful.
I made a dessert from cookies, cottage cheese, butter, and sour cream. True, my desserts quickly ran out, because I didn't have money transfers, and you can't really splurge on a local salary.
My first salary was very small: in July, for 20 days of work, I received only 4 rubles, in August it was 27 rubles, in September 35 rubles, in October – about 35-40 rubles, and in November the team worked worse and the salary dropped – they gave 29 rubles.
I bought coffee, sugar – 1 kg (no more allowed), apples, cookies, cottage cheese, sour cream, wafers, ice cream a couple of times in the summer and once Coca-Cola. It was a holiday – ice cream (blue cornflower) with cola. In the colony, you can only eat in the detachment's kitchen, it's forbidden elsewhere, but it was still super. I went to the shop once a month with my salary, and the purchases lasted for a week."
Hanna Papai. Photo: Politzek.me
Sweets save from stress
Today, Hanna works in a bakery, baking croissants. Baking was her hobby even before her arrest, and now it is gradually turning into her life's work.
"For me, it's very simple: sweets and pastries are a source of pleasure and joy. Of course, one can live without them, but what kind of life would that be? I won't last long without sweets, that's for sure. Especially in prison. There, by the way, everyone eats sweets, and a lot. And no one gets fat.
Sweets are very good at saving you from stress. I knew this before, and in prison, I became completely convinced. If you're having a hard time, feeling sad, or experienced some strong stress, don't be afraid to eat a piece of your favorite cake. The world immediately becomes brighter."
Baking for Hanna is a part of life. A delicious and beautiful life. She and her sister baked their first cakes together.
Hanna at work in the bakery. Photo: Politzek.me
"What kind of cakes exactly? It was Soviet classics: 'Napoleon,' honey cake, 'Ryzhik,' 'Zebra.' Then there was 'Bird's Milk,' though not quite authentic, the soufflé had semolina."
One of her vivid sweet memories is connected with a school beauty contest.
"For some reason, you not only had to participate in the contest but also bake something. My mom and I made a cake in a saucepan. For that time, it was a very advanced option. We cut biscuit into cubes, added fruit, sour cream with gelatin, and layered it in the saucepan. Then we flipped it over - and a beautiful, even cake came out! It seemed like a real miracle to me then."
Home smells like charlotte
Among her favorite desserts, Hanna has some clear favorites.
"Of the cakes I bake, I love almond cake with cheesecake and mascarpone mousse the most. It has a perfect balance of everything. I also love macarons, although they are rarely truly delicious; it's a very complex dessert.
And of what I make now in the bakery, I adore roll cheesecake: puff pastry, and inside – cheesecake with marzipan, topped with currant confit. Insanely delicious!"
According to Hanna, every period of life has its own tastes and aromas.
"Right now, my life smells of cinnamon rolls and fresh bread. When it comes to home, it smells completely different.
For me, home is honey cake. And also the smell of freshly baked biscuit. Preferably vanilla or lemon, but chocolate works too. And definitely – the smell of charlotte!"
Here you can see the desserts Hanna bakes. And what if you are also not indifferent to sweets and desperately need an anti-stress cake? Subscribe and recommend to your friends!
"I feel like I'm in my place"
If you saw Hanna on the street, it wouldn't cross your mind that this woman had survived the horrors of a Belarusian penal colony. Hanna looks very feminine and stylish, loves dresses and jewelry. She says that after years of searching and changes, she has finally found an occupation that brings her inner peace.
"I like my state when I'm baking. I feel like I'm in my place. I feel like I'm doing what needs to be done, and I don't need to look for anything else."
At the same time, for her, baking has never been solely about food.
"Baking, first of all, is for people. I like it when my cakes, desserts, pastries, and now croissants and bread, turn out well. When people like them, when they taste good, and they keep coming back. Of course, baking is also for loved ones, for family."
Hanna speaks especially warmly about her children.
"For example, my youngest son Pasha really loved macarons, the French almond meringue pastry. Who would have thought a child would specifically like that? And my eldest adores my chocolate cake. Especially the chocolate biscuit. And I have my own tried and true signature recipe."
Baking helps overcome difficult times
Hanna admits that baking helped her cope with crises long before her imprisonment.
"There was such a difficult moment in my life – a divorce. At that time, it seemed like my whole life was turned upside down. But there were orders, people still needed cakes. For me, it became a salvation. I would come home from work, stand by the stove, and cook. I would calm down and realize that life goes on."
Hanna Papai at work in the bakery. Photo: Politzek.me
According to her, it was then that she first felt that her beloved craft could literally keep a person afloat.
"When you work with dough, cream, cake layers, everything becomes somehow clearer. There's a recipe, there's a sequence of actions, there's a result. Sometimes that's exactly what's missing in life."
She remembers her first cake in emigration very well:
"It was a 'Napoleon' for New Year's. We were going to visit friends of my friends, whom I, of course, didn't know at all. I baked 'Napoleon' because at that time I didn't have a mixer or cake pans yet. And a layered cake is the simplest solution in such a situation."
Hanna Papai makes this cake to order. It's not finished yet, it will be even more beautiful! Photo: Politzek.me
She smiles, recalling her feelings.
"It was a bit scary, to be honest. I worried it wouldn't work out. The ingredients were unfamiliar, the oven was foreign, a lot of time had passed since I seriously baked anything. But everything worked out. The cake was wonderful. I decorated it with berries; in Poland, they are sold year-round and cost much less than in Belarus. As a result, the cake disappeared instantly. Everyone loved it."
"May my croissants get a hundred hearts"
Recently, one of Hanna's posts on Threads unexpectedly gathered more than five hundred likes.
"May I look here tomorrow and my croissants get a hundred hearts. These are my first croissants. It was difficult for me, but I managed."
The experience of imprisonment changes a person's attitude towards many things.
"Many material things became completely unimportant. Money — by itself — ceased to have great significance. The most important thing now is the ability to communicate with loved ones."
After receiving international protection, confidence in the future emerged; for the first time in a long time, Hanna felt safe. But difficulties remain.
"The most difficult thing is to learn Polish. It's enough for shopping, but not yet for full communication. Without the language, you still feel like a stranger. As if you're a person who can't speak and tries to explain with gestures. Only I don't even know gestures!"
Hanna reads a book in Polish. "Bought it to start learning the language." Photo: Politzek.me
Plans for the future? At a minimum, I want to become a partner in the business where I currently work. At a maximum, to open my own bakery. Here or in Belarus. I even know the district in Minsk where I would open it. Well, why not? One can dream.
There's another dream. Very personal. I can't talk about it yet, or it won't come true."
This experience cannot simply be forgotten
Those around her often avoid conversations about prison. Therefore, Hanna rarely talks about her experience.
"Many don't want to hear stories about the penal colony. They think that by doing so, they will upset me. But sometimes, on the contrary, I want to share. After all, it's a part of my life. You can't just erase it and forget."
After her release, Hanna started calling her mother more often.
"Mom wrote me letters every two or three days. No one in the world is capable of such support and love as a mother. I finally understood this.
I didn't return home. I didn't return to my old life. That life is no more. But I am free. And I value that very much.
Every day spent there was hell for me. Now I enjoy every minute of life. Everything will be fine. For all of us. I know this. Because after the black streak, there always comes a white one."
Hanna Papai. Photo: Politzek.me
You can help Hanna Papai right now — here.
Your support is simply essential for those who find themselves in forced emigration today without loved ones. Hanna is just beginning her independent life in a foreign country. She works hard and diligently. Such people rarely ask for help. Any amount will allow her to feel a little more confident with household expenses.
Fundraising goal: €3000
€1200 — rent for 2 months
€950 — inventory and equipment for making cakes and desserts
€550 — purchase of ingredients and consumables
€300 — reserve and development of private orders