"Don't ask how a mother in emigration feels without her children." Former political prisoner Hanna Papai shares how she's adapting to a new life
Former political prisoner Hanna Papai now lives in Poland, eagerly awaits a reunion with her children, and dreams of opening her own cafe in Minsk. Politzek.me writes about how she's adjusting 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 originally 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 and provided 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 Homiel. In December 2025, she was among a group of political prisoners who, after a visit by an American delegation to Minsk, were deported from Belarus via Ukraine to Poland. In Poland, a new chapter of Hanna's life began: 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, hit hard, chase granny from the field!"
Just waking up in the morning, just going outside, just buying coffee, just calling loved ones. For many people, these are ordinary things, but for Hanna, they are of immense value, for which she paid a very high price. She admits: her ability to never 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 sea. 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 of rain coming when we had to weed strawberries. Remember: 'Rain, rain, hit hard, chase granny from the field'? What happiness it was when it started!"
The colony no longer haunts her dreams as often
At the time of this conversation, 5 months had passed since her release. According to Hanna, memories of her imprisonment are still present, but no longer control her thoughts.
"The colony and pre-trial detention center are slowly fading from memory. They no longer haunt my dreams as often as before. There's a feeling that this stage is finally 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 paddy wagon in Warsaw. It was very beautiful and modern, but it only evoked an aesthetic interest in me."
The realization of freedom came the day after her release.
"That's when I was able to video call my children and parents for the first time. It was at that moment that the feeling came — it's all over."

Hanna Papai. Photo: Politzek.me
She didn't imagine her release this way
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 Ukraine too. I didn't think I'd be able to go there before the war ended, but it turned out differently."
One of the strongest memories of her first days of freedom for Hanna remains the meeting organized for released political prisoners.
"We were met at the Center for Belarusian Solidarity 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 each one, to feed each one, to find words of support for each one. 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 thoughts. Hanna tried not to dwell 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. I'm alive, after all. I thought about my mother, my children, my beloved one 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 support.
"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. Every day spent in captivity is a pity. Every such day could have been filled with happiness."
Her main dream during imprisonment was freedom.
"Of course, I dreamed of freedom. And then of meeting my loved ones. I imagined it 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 they ask such questions. It's 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 going to this school, coming 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's SO HARD for them that you don't need to know."
Letters — immense happiness
In imprisonment, support is measured not only by money or things. Sometimes support can be held in your 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 one 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 one and friends. Thanks to this, I understood: I wasn't forgotten, I was being waited for."
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 that 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 get through all that. It turned out I'm not that easy to break."
The most terrible ordeal 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 fellow sufferers.
Political prisoners have an especially hard time. Many don't endure. I did. There's a small reason for pride."
Unexpectedly for herself, Hanna discovered her sewing abilities in the colony.
"It turned out I'm quite good at sewing. School labor lessons weren't in vain. For five months I worked in a factory where we sewed jackets. I was entrusted with quite complex operations: hemming sleeves, assembling hoods. And I handled it perfectly. An 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 bake properly 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 available in every squad.
But we still made cakes — from store-bought sponges, condensed milk, butter, and nuts. Sometimes they turned out really tasty and beautiful.
I made a dessert from cookies, cottage cheese, butter, and sour cream. Truth be told, my desserts quickly ran out, because I didn't have money transfers, and with the local wages, you couldn't really splurge.
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 — I received 29 rubles.
I bought coffee, sugar — 1 kg (no more allowed), apples, cookies, cottage cheese, sour cream, waffles, ice cream a couple of times in the summer and once a Coca-Cola. It was a celebration — ice cream (blue cornflower) with cola. In the colony, you can only eat in the squad kitchen, and it's forbidden elsewhere, but it was still great. 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 baking are a source of pleasure and joy. Of course, you 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 a lot of sweets. And no one gets fat.
Sweets are very good for relieving stress. I knew this before, and in prison, I was finally 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. They baked their first cakes together with her sister.

Hanna at work in the bakery. Photo: Politzek.me
"What kind of cakes exactly? It was Soviet classics: 'Napoleon', Honey Cake, 'Ryzhik' (Redhead), 'Zebra'. Then there was 'Bird's Milk', though not quite authentic, the soufflé had semolina."
One of her vivid sweet memories is associated 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 pot. For that time, it was a very advanced option. We cut the biscuit into cubes, added fruit, sour cream with gelatin, and layered it in the pot. Then we flipped it over — and a beautiful, even cake was ready! 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 the perfect balance of everything. I also love macarons, although genuinely delicious ones are rare; it's a very complex dessert.
And of what I make in the bakery now, I adore the 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 buns and fresh bread. When talking about 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 also have a sweet tooth 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 I'm supposed to, 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 even croissants and bread turn out well. When people like them, when they taste good and they come back again and again. Of course, baking is also for loved ones, for family."
Hanna speaks especially warmly about her children.
"For example, my youngest son Pasha absolutely loved macarons, the French pastry made with almond flour. Who would have thought that a child would like that particular thing? And my eldest son adores my chocolate cake. Especially the chocolate biscuit. And I have my own perfected signature recipe."
Baking helps get through 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. It seemed then that my whole life was turning 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 distanced myself, calmed down, and realized 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 '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 molds yet. And a layered cake is the simplest solution in such a situation."

This cake Hanna Papai makes to order. It's not finished yet, it will be even more beautiful! Photo: Politzek.me
She smiles, recalling her anxieties.
"It was a bit scary, to be honest. I worried it wouldn't work out. The ingredients were unfamiliar, the oven was foreign, and a lot of time had passed since I had baked anything serious. 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 was devoured instantly. Everyone loved it."
"May my croissants gather a hundred hearts"
Recently, one of Hanna's posts on Threads unexpectedly gathered over five hundred likes.
"May I check back tomorrow and my croissants will have gathered a hundred hearts. These are my first croissants. It was difficult, 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, a sense of confidence in the future emerged; for the first time in a long time, Hanna felt safe. But difficulties remain.
"The hardest thing is to learn Polish. It's enough for a trip to the store, 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 themselves with gestures. Only I don't even know gestures!"

Hanna reads a book in Polish. "I 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
In her circle, people often avoid talking about prison. Therefore, Hanna rarely speaks about her experience.
"Many don't want to listen to stories about the colony. They think that by doing so, they will upset me. But sometimes, on the contrary, I want to share. After all, it's part of my life. You can't just erase it and forget it."
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 that.
I didn't return home. I didn't return to my old life. That life is no more. But I am free. And I truly value that.
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 that. Because after a dark patch, there's always a bright one."

Hanna Papai. Photo: Politzek.me
You can help Hanna Papai right now — here.
Your support is simply essential for those who are currently in forced emigration without loved ones. Hanna is just starting 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 everyday expenses.
Fundraising goal: €3000
€1200 — apartment 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
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