“Whenever you go into prison, they don’t tell you how long you will stay,” he says.
His crime, in the eyes of Eritrea’s authorities, was twofold: he preached in a country where religious freedom is restricted, holding clandestine prayer sessions with congregants; and he resisted compulsory military conscription.
Today, he lives in neighbouringEthiopia. Like the other former inmates of Eritrea’s prisons interviewed in Ethiopia for this article, he requested anonymity. Even here, they fear the regime’s spies will track them down.
Their testimony offers a rare glimpse into the vast gulag system operated by Eritrea, one of the world’s mostrepressive single-party states. They describe beatings, stress positions and other mistreatment, as well as unsanitary conditions, forced labour, desperate breakout attempts and deaths at detention facilities across the country.
A small nation of 3.5 million people on the Red Sea, Eritrea has earned a reputation as the “North Korea of Africa”. Since it gained independence from Ethiopia in 1993, it has never held a general election or implemented a constitution. Its ruler, Isaias Afwerki, who became president after leading the liberation struggle,has banned opposition parties, independent media and civil society groups. Foreign journalists are not allowed to enter unless they agree to report positively.
“Being a soldier in Eritrea is terrible,” says a former detainee. “If you raise your hand and speak out, they take you away. There is no freedom.”
In 2023, Eritrea wasthe fourth-biggest sourceof people arriving in the UK on small boats, with 2,662 arrivals. But the bulk of Eritrean refugees stay in east Africa. Ethiopiahosts the largest number, with 158,000 in 2023.
Those still inside Eritrea risk disappearing into its extensive detention system, which includes underground cells at military bases and facilities so secret that even the inmates do not know their names. In some centres, prisoners are sealed in sweltering shipping containers in the desert.
“It’s a system designed to spread terror and exert control over the lives of Eritreans that plays a very important role in stifling any political dissent,” says Mohamed Abdelsalam Babiker, the UN’s special rapporteur on the situation of human rights in Eritrea.
In 2014, the UN estimated Eritrea’s military prisons alone heldat least 14,000 people. Detainees include opposition politicians, journalists and religious leaders, as well as those who evade the draft. The figure probably increased during the 2020-22 civil war in Ethiopia, during which Eritrea fought alongside the Ethiopian government and press-ganged more of its citizens into military service, says Babiker.
Torture and sexual abuses of conscripts are commonplace,according to Babiker’s office. One former prisoner, who spent 12 years in Eritrea’s army, recalls how he was made to stand up to his ankles in scorching desert sand for hours at a time while in detention. He takes off his plastic sandals to reveal feet covered in blotchy red scars. Another describes being hog-tied in a stress position known as the “helicopter”. A third says he was beaten so severely he became blind in one eye.
All three were imprisoned for overstaying their annual leave from the army to work on farms to make extra money for their families. “They were struggling to survive, and my salary was not enough to support them,” says one.
Many detainees spend their prison terms shrouded in darkness. Another former prisoner, who spent eight months in a facility known as Tract B, says he was held in an underground bunker with hundreds of others. It was so dark, he could barely make out his hands when he held them in front of his face.
Inmates with diabetes and high blood pressure were denied medication, he says. All were infested with lice. Because of the lack of space, the detainees sat in long lines, each with their legs outstretched to make room for the person in front of them. “You could stand for a few minutes, but that was it,” he says. “There is nowhere to go. My joints were constantly aching.”
To pass the time, the prisoners would share their life stories and memories of home. But they would avoid politics, afraid of being betrayed in the darkness by a government informer. Five people died in the cell, he says. Their bodies were passed overhead by the prisoners to guards at the door. “It was almost a relief when someone died,” he says. “It gave you a chance to stretch your legs.”