Men in yellow vests are a common sight in the courtyards and corridors of Baku Pretrial Detention Center. Some dig the soil, others carry parcels and goods arriving on carts, while many perform various maintenance tasks. In prison jargon, they are known as "khoz" workers - inmate laborers responsible for the facility's daily operations.
There are nearly 200 inmate workers in Baku Pretrial Detention Center (BIT). These are prisoners whose convictions have already entered into legal force. Under Azerbaijani law, convicted individuals may voluntarily remain in detention centers or other institutions to perform maintenance and household work. In such cases, detention centers effectively serve as correctional facilities for these prisoners.
They transport food to and from refrigerators, oversee cleaning duties in the detention facility, record shop orders, and distribute those orders to detainees, along with bread and the detention meals known as "balanda". At designated times, they also hand out knives (red:given so detainees can cut bread, fruit, or food from meals), and later collect them back, along with carrying out other tasks.
Unequal Conditions for Women Workers
Male inmate workers are housed in a separate building. Because they are already convicted prisoners, the doors of their cells remain unlocked, similar to conditions in correctional facilities. After work, they are free to walk through the corridors.
For women inmate workers, however, conditions are markedly different.
Only one floor of the detention center is allocated to women, including both convicted and pretrial detainees. Although female khoz workers are legally convicted prisoners, they are still held in locked cells alongside women who have not yet been sentenced. Their living conditions therefore resemble those of pretrial detention rather than those prescribed for convicted prisoners.
Article 69.3 of Azerbaijan's Code on the Execution of Sentences states:
"Convicted persons held in pretrial detention facilities to perform household and maintenance work shall be kept separately from other persons under the conditions established for general-regime correctional institutions. If they work in enclosed buildings or premises, they are entitled to two hours of outdoor exercise per day.”
In practice, female inmate workers rarely benefit from these rights.
Because their work is carried out on the same floor where they are held, they rarely leave their unit. Their workday generally runs from 7:00 or 8:00 in the morning until 7:00 or 8:00 in the evening. Since the exercise yards are closed every evening between approximately 5:00 and 6:00 p.m., women working these shifts are effectively deprived of fresh air. Their only movement consists of walking back and forth along the detention center's enclosed corridors while performing their duties.
Rights That Exist Only on Paper
Prisoners sentenced to deprivation of liberty for a fixed term have the right to make phone calls twice a week or, as an alternative, to have video calls. Although a designated space for video calls has been set up within the detention facility, it appears that not all prison staff are aware of this right. Even when prisoners learn that such a right exists, they are often unable to use it, as they are met with the response from detention officials that it is “not possible.”
Convicted prisoners are also entitled to a certain number of extended family visits each year. Such visits may last from one to three days. Some rooms designated for visits within the detention center are equipped to accommodate longer family meetings.
Yet for female inmate workers, these rights remain largely inaccessible.
One former female khoz worker who spent nearly a year in the position reported being able to exercise this right only once. Even then, the visit was cut short, lasting only from 5:00 p.m. until 8:00 a.m. the following day, allowing her limited time with her children.
No Weekends, No Days Off
By law, inmate workers are entitled to rest days and should be exempt from work on public holidays, election days, and national days of mourning.
In reality, inmate workers at the detention center rarely receive such breaks.
Weekends and non-working days effectively do not exist for them. At best, they may receive an unexpected day off if the officer supervising them fails to report for duty during a holiday.
Prisoners assigned to floor duties work almost continuously, interrupted only when attending visits, meetings with lawyers, or other official appointments.
The women's unit officially has only one registered inmate worker responsible for nearly 150 female detainees. She works approximately 12 hours a day, every day, without rest days. The workload visibly affects her health. While she may begin the day in relatively good condition, by evening she is exhausted. Even after her shift ends and officers escort her back to her cell, other prisoners continue calling her name, requesting assistance.
Once the heavy metal doors close behind them at the end of the day, additional burdens await: heating water for washing, attempting to sleep in overcrowded and noisy cells, and preparing to repeat the cycle the next morning.
In addition to officially registered inmate workers, other women prisoners are reportedly used as unpaid labor.
These women are selected from among pretrial detainees who have not yet been convicted. They clean floors, dust corridors, and frequently perform tasks unrelated to prison maintenance, including cooking meals for officers, setting tables, cleaning up afterward, and serving tea and coffee.
The unofficial nature of this labor becomes apparent during visits by representatives of the Ombudsman's Office. According to detainees, prison staff hide these women in the kitchen during inspections, suggesting awareness that their work arrangements are unlawful.
Questions also arise regarding workplace safety.
An inmate worker attempting to connect an electrical device to a television warned a nearby woman not to touch it because she could be electrocuted. Yet he himself was handling the equipment with bare hands and no protective gloves.
Prisoners assigned electrical work routinely perform their duties without protective equipment. When concerns are raised about workplace safety, supervising officers either remain silent or joke that the workers are "used to it."
Dangerous practices are common.
To retrieve a broken key stuck in a cell door, prisoner-workers drilled a hole in the door using an angle grinder. They had neither protective face shields nor gloves on their hands.
For pest control in the rooms, the labor of inmate-workers is also used. A plumber, who is usually brought in for tasks such as fixing air coolers or removing window glass, is this time seen holding a device used for spraying insecticide against cockroaches. While spraying, he is wearing his everyday clothes and has not been provided with any protective gear.
Afterwards, the inmate-worker, who says “I came to kill cockroaches, but I ended up feeling unwell myself,” later experiences a deterioration in his condition.
"Ghost Workers”
Among the inmate workers are so-called "dead souls”, prisoners who are officially listed as khoz workers but perform no labor.
According to detainees, some wealthier male prisoners secure registration as inmate workers in order to remain in the detention center rather than being transferred to a correctional colony. They hand over their salary cards to prison staff while other prisoners perform the work in their place without pay.
Profiting from inmate labor does not stop there.
Former workers report that obtaining a khoz position often requires payment. One woman who previously worked in the system said the opportunity cost her 2,000 Azerbaijani manats ($1176) . Similar practices are reportedly widespread in the men's units.
Even workers who did not pay an initial bribe are expected to make regular unofficial payments from commissary sales and other income sources to senior prison officials. If these monthly payments fall short, staff reportedly document even minor mistakes, remove the prisoner from their position, and transfer them to a correctional colony.
Many prisoners perform labor without any official registration.
Those who are formally registered receive the same salary regardless of the type of work they perform or the number of hours worked: the minimum monthly wage of 400 manats ($235).
After deductions for taxes and insurance contributions, approximately 350 manats ($205) remain.
The disparity between the workload, the hours worked, and the final amount received attracts little attention from authorities.
Many prisoners choose these jobs because they provide greater freedom of movement within detention and an opportunity to send money to families struggling outside prison walls.
Yet according to numerous accounts from inside the facility, prison administrators exploit precisely these needs, transforming inmate labor into a system of dependence, corruption, and abuse.
