Shocking Testimony: Azerbaijani Police Torture Woman with Beatings, Hair-Pulling, and Rape Threats During Interrogation

Ulviye Ali

"I want everyone to know that within 24 hours I was twice threatened with rape by the Azerbaijani police!"

Independent journalist Ulviye Ali, detained within the framework of the “Meydan TV case,” writes from Baku Investigation Detention Center:

Part 1

How was I detained?

On May 6, I had covered court hearings related to Tofiq Yaqublu and the “AbzasMedia case,” sharing updates on my profile. After “Voice of America” was shut down, I lost my job, but I wrote on my profile that even without a workplace, my journalistic activity would not stop. I want to note that all my posts on my profile were entirely voluntary. The state accused me of being “a stomachache” funded by some “Western circles.” By continuing my activities this way, I completely disproved their argument and showed that it was not about money.

At around midnight on May 6, as I was entering the block of my apartment building, a man approached me. Earlier that day, after coming out of the “AbzasMedia” court, I had sat in a café to rest and noticed from the window that I was being watched; a man in civilian clothes was following me from the other side of the street. The person who approached me at the block’s entrance said: “Ulviyya?” At that moment, I realized my turn had come, and they were here to detain me. He reached for the phone in my hand, and I gave it without saying a word. They put me into a car, checked if I was wearing a watch, and found my old phone and my house key in my bag. They asked for my phone passwords; I refused. A large-bodied police officer sat beside me; across from me was investigator Alibala Hajiyev, the driver, and another police officer. The car moved off, and I looked through the window to see where they were taking me. After driving around for 2-3 minutes, they returned to the front of my building. Seven policemen, the investigator, and I entered the block. At the door, I inserted my key to open it. I was glad inside because my roommate was home and had locked the door from the inside. Without missing the chance, I shouted, “They have arrested me, tell someone outside!” At that moment, the large police officer covered my mouth with his large hand. I thought I would suffocate because his hand was so big it covered my nose too. They hammered the door violently with fists and feet. A neighbor downstairs heard the noise and asked, “What happened?” They told him, “Come inside.” My roommate opened the door within 1-2 minutes. Everyone rushed inside. The search warrant was presented, stating that I was detained as a suspect in the “Aynur Ganbarova and others’ case.”

Yes, I was detained as a suspect in the well-known “Meydan TV case,” which everyone knows about. I read the warrant and smiled again. It is known that since 2019 I have cooperated with “Voice of America,” not Meydan TV. If they had framed 10 people in this case, I was framed twice as hard as the 11th person. Yes, most of those arrested are my friends. Yes, I protested their unjust detention. If I were a Meydan TV employee, I would say it proudly, not deny it!

Part 2

The search and “planting money” operation at home

We first went to the living room; the policemen searched every room like bees. From a cabinet in the living room, they took a 32 GB flash card, a graduation disk from 11th grade, and the disk of the surgery related to my health. Inside, there were seven policemen, two witnesses, the investigator, myself, and my roommate. As everyone knows, I have two cats, and they were so frightened that they climbed on top of the cabinet. I looked at them occasionally, noticing their stress.

After the living room, we went to the bedroom. They thoroughly searched my belongings. They took my camera’s memory card, one flash card, and a computer. I note that they also

took my roommate’s computer and phone, even though she is not involved in political matters. Other policemen checked the bathroom and kitchen. Later, we entered a third room, which contained no personal belongings of mine, only items from my previous roommate. They found nothing there.

When I objected to the search, one of the witnesses said in Russian, “You are very capricious.” I replied, “I didn’t invite you to my home. You came without permission or invitation. You may leave!”

Then we returned to the living room. Investigator Alibala Hajiyev began to document the items taken from the house. It was strange that they did not “plant” any money in my home. So, ironically, I said: “Aren’t you planting money in the house?” A police officer in civilian clothes rushed at me, saying, “Whose house have we ever planted money in?” I replied, “I am not talking to you; I asked the investigator.” He said, “I will plant it now, you’ll see.” I said, “That’s the best you can do.” While the protocol was being written, I saw a policeman frequently coming in and giving a nod to the investigator from the other side of the room. Suddenly, someone said, “We haven’t checked the top of the wardrobe in the bedroom.” Since a large police officer was assigned to me, he mimicked every small movement I made and was ready to shoot at any moment. We returned to the bedroom, and they dropped down items from the top of the wardrobe. From a bag I hadn’t opened or looked at since January 4 of this year, they took money wrapped with a rubber band—roughly the thickness of Chekhov’s “Ward No. 6.” They held out the money to me, asking, “Whose is this?” I did not touch the money and laughed loudly, saying, “You know better; you put it here.” No, I didn’t remind the police. I knew they were fussing about planting money.

We returned to the living room to document the money. That policeman said, “See, I planted it.” I applauded and said, “I liked your performance.” In the protocol, I noted that the search was conducted without my lawyer, police frequently entered and exited the apartment when the door should have been locked, the money was counted by the investigator without gloves, the large policeman used violence by covering my mouth, and so on. But the violence against me would not end there.

After the witnesses left, the policeman who planted the money said, “Thank you, dear.” I didn’t know who the “dear” was. After the protocols were finished, I called my cats by name. They came down from the wardrobe; I kissed and hugged them and put food in their bowl, filling it generously because I already knew I would not return home.

Part 3

A Gift from Me to the Police

They took my spouse and me to the Baku Main Police Department (BŞBPİ) in separate cars. I kept asking about him because it deeply worried me that a person with no political involvement was being detained — at that moment, my own detention barely registered.

When we arrived at the BŞBPİ, they took my spouse and me to different rooms. Four uniformed officers and one plainclothes officer came into my room. One of them, I think his name was Hasan, wore a mask covering his face up to his eyes — it was barely possible to see his eyes. But how his face looked didn’t matter much, because the shrill voice of this thin man, which he apparently liked hearing himself, was yelling at me at full force. He sat across from me at the table, staring into my eyes so intensely it felt like he was trying to get inside my mouth. He slammed his hand on the water bottle on the table, which punctured it. Water spilled all over me and the table.

He demanded the passwords to my phones and computer; I refused to give them. I turned to the other officers watching us and said, “Take him off me.” They calmly told me to give the passwords and assured me everything would be fine. I still refused.

At that moment, the thin police officer with the voice he liked so much left the room. The plainclothes officer, enjoying the scene, smoked a cigarette and said, “Give the passwords.” I asked, “Who are you?” He answered, “I’m a housing department worker.” Then he added, “Something you wouldn’t imagine could happen to you, but we won’t detain you.”

Then the loud-voiced police officer returned, and I gave some other passwords. He stood above me, leaning over. The police officer writing down the passwords left, and after a minute or two returned saying the passwords were incorrect. The thin police officer standing above me then started punching me on the head — each time I said “I don’t know,” he punched again. He hit the back of my head five times, twice in the middle of my head, and twice pressed his finger on my temples.

Seeing I was not giving the passwords, the “housing department worker” who was enjoying his cigarette stood up. Two officers stood on either side of me and started pulling and tearing my hair in different directions. The thin officer said, “Bring the stun gun.” They brought something and put it on the table. When I still refused, the thin officer said, “I will violate your womanhood.” The words made my heart stop.

We have long known what the Azerbaijani police are “capable” of. They frame people, beat them, and commit illegal acts. It turns out the Azerbaijani police even threaten to rape a woman.

I should note that I had a microadenoma brain tumor in 2017. The tumor was benign and located near the pituitary gland. After long treatment, the tumor was cured, but I undergo annual check-ups including MRI and other tests. I have many medical records proving this.

After the blows to my head, I suffer from dull headaches, nausea, and vomiting.

Opposition figures often listed their illnesses when detained. I once read a comment saying, “All these opposition members are sick.” Yes, comrades, not only opposition members, but everyone is sick under bad governance.

The computer they took from my home has “A.C.A.B.” written on it. Now, every time I open my computers, knowing that this inscription is displayed right in their faces makes me smile. There couldn’t be a better response to all this 🙂

Part 4

Investigator Alibala: “I Did Not See Any Violence”

Although not all 40 officers were present, five witnessed everything and handed me over to a large police officer. To be fair, I thought he would be the one to assault me, but he was not in the room and did not watch what happened. He treated me relatively politely.

They brought me to Investigator Alibala Hajiyev’s office. I said, “I was subjected to violence.” He replied, “But I did not see any.” I did not say this hoping for help from him, as if he was unaware of what happened. I wanted to see his facial expression after saying that.

They themselves know well that I have no cooperation with Meydan TV, but since they had to fabricate “evidence” out of nothing, they used violence to get my passwords. As far as I know, no other detained women before me were subjected to this kind of violence for passwords.

They had an interest in fabricating some “evidence” about me. Probably, they hoped to latch onto “Hello, how are you?” messages :)

When the formal procedures started, I requested my lawyer. They said it was very late and a state-appointed lawyer would be assigned. I asked them to call Zibeyda Sadiqova; she was the only number I knew. They called her, and she said only a lawyer could come in the morning to issue the order. I reported the violence I had suffered.

The state-appointed lawyer was Sevdiyar Bayramov, who said nothing. I myself emphasized that my procedural rights were violated and that I suffered violence. I wrote that my detention was politically motivated and connected to my journalistic activities.

Part 5

Smuggling — Are You a Journalist?

The decision to detain me as a suspect was dated May 7, 2025. But I was actually detained on May 6, 2025. The detention decision was made by the well-known investigator Samir Ismayilov. I always remembered May 6 as the execution date of Deniz Gezmiş. After that, this date would also be significant for me personally…

After the formalities, I was taken to the Temporary Detention Facility of Khatai District. They asked what charge I was under. I said, “Smuggling.” They asked, “Are you a journalist?” I smiled and said, “Yes!”

Another young man at the facility, without knowing me, asked, “Are you a journalist?” I said yes. He said, “I heard your voice on Voice of America.” I replied that I also used to hear my voice there, but now “I have been side by side both on Meydan TV and in prison.” 🙂 I was glad my voice had reached inside the system.

I had not slept all night; it was around 6 a.m. and my eyes were already closing from exhaustion. After registration, they put me in cell number 6. Later I found out Aynur Elgunesh had been detained there before me. I smiled again to myself, associating cell number 6 with the “Ward No. 6” story.

It was hard to fall asleep; the headaches didn’t allow it. I also suffered terrible nausea and vomited twice before morning. I don’t know whether it was because of the blows to my head or the disgusting experiences.

In the morning, a plainclothes officer from the Ministry of Internal Affairs came to me, said his name was Samir, and he was accompanied by another man. They asked me to unlock my phone with Face ID. I refused and requested a lawyer. They replied in a dismissive manner, “The lawyer will come; give us the Face ID.” When I turned my head, I saw the phone pointed at my face and unlocked. Then they left, and I tried to sleep.

Half an hour later, they returned. He said, “Give the Telegram password.” I refused and said, “Leave me alone, call a lawyer.” He did not call one and threatened me again: “You are an Azerbaijani woman, don’t act crazy. Don’t force me to talk to you differently. Tomorrow, when we meet on the street, let’s greet each other normally.” Then he rushed at me.

There was nothing on Telegram anyway; I am not someone who keeps chats. So I gave the password without resisting. But I want everyone to know: within 24 hours, I was threatened with rape twice by Azerbaijani police!

About two hours after the police officer Samir left, around 2 p.m., my lawyer arrived, meaning I had been without legal counsel for 14 hours.

Later, investigator Alibala Hajiyev came and told my lawyer and me that I was being charged as a suspect. From there, I was to be sent to court — the Khatai District Court, surrounded by fences, worried about our faces appearing in the media…

Part 6

Bella Ciao!

I was brought from Khatai District Temporary Detention Facility to Khatai District Court. I had no slogans in mind, but when I saw handcuffs being put on my hands, the slogan “Bella Ciao” spontaneously came to me.

Outside the court, I saw my mother, and a journalist was filming. I raised my arm and said, “They have handcuffed the media’s arm.” In fact, no slogans were needed. Wasn’t everything already visible?

In court, Alibala Hajiyev and the state prosecutor requested 1 month and 29 days of pre-trial detention. Reading their justification made me want to laugh: they claimed I might flee the country or influence other witnesses. I was interrogated at the BŞBPİ on January 16 related to the “Meydan TV case,” and investigator Samir Ismayilov confirmed I had a travel ban. I had posted countless statuses, given interviews, and even filed a complaint to the court about this travel ban over four months, which was rejected on May 5.

How could I flee the country? A criminal would have long since run away and hidden. But I was here and repeatedly stated I had no intention to leave. I could have influenced other witnesses many times over these four months.

I expressed all this in court and said: “There are 30 journalists detained in the country on the same charges; cash is reportedly found at their homes. As a rational person, I would never keep large amounts of cash at home. The investigation believes I waited 40 days like a hen waiting for an egg to hatch so that the money planted in my home could multiply?”

Most of the judges signing pre-trial detention orders for journalists were influenced by Sulhana Hajiyeva, the judge and martyr’s daughter, who upheld the travel ban against me. Naturally, my arguments did not interest her. I would say courts have turned into notaries, but even notaries refuse to certify certain things.

After the court session ended, while waiting in the hall to be taken to the Baku Investigation Detention Center, one of the policemen escorting me was watching “reels” on his phone. Various videos played out loud. Suddenly, the song “Bella Ciao” started playing from one of the videos. I smiled; though tired, my favorite song loaded me with dopamine and serotonin 🙂 Since then, whenever I remember that day, I hum:

O partigiano, portami via

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

O partigiano, portami via

Che mi sento di morir

Part 7 (Curtain)

Why Was I Imprisoned?

I believe everyone who follows me can confirm that I had shouldered the burden of the silenced media in Azerbaijan. Everyone who was oppressed, persecuted, or wronged turned to me after other journalists were arrested. I tried to be the voice for everyone. Even without a platform to work on, I continued my activities through my Facebook and X (Twitter) profiles. I highlighted the problems of all political prisoners who were falsely accused and arrested.

At the Ministry of Internal Affairs, a plainclothes police officer named Samir said in passing, “When the decision not to grant house arrest for Tofiq Yaqublu was announced, where were you running? Watching the camera footage, you were running so fast I thought you would fall.” That’s when I understood that Ahmad Mammadli, who was also falsely accused and arrested the same day as me, was detained because he covered Tofiq Yaqublu’s court trial.

Now, I myself have been doubly framed and imprisoned. Working in media is not a crime, but falsely accusing and imprisoning someone for a media outlet they don’t even work for is double slander. I have become Farid Mehralizade and Hafiz Babali of Meydan TV, just as they have tried to frame and push these journalists into media work they never engaged in. They resorted to this method to silence me as well.

I am happy! My name is remembered not for a crime, but as an independent journalist who does not stay silent in the face of injustice and stands with the oppressed people.

I am proud! Because having dear friends nearby who also refuse to be silent in the face of injustice reassures me that people are still rising up. Unfortunately, after the state media silenced the press, they no longer tolerate even those who illuminate the illegalities on their own social media profiles.

I raised my voice so that no one would stay silent about the murder of a person, and I was imprisoned for it — and I am not at all sorry. Because I will not be a participant in the physical destruction of a human being. I was glad that Tofiq Yaqublu ended his hunger strike. I was imprisoned because I publicized these issues. How fortunate I am that I have not remained silent about a human life.

I love museums very much. I have come to prison as if on a museum tour. An independent journalist should be everywhere. They imprisoned me because in this country they do not want to give anything the name of journalist. My friend joked, “If they imprison you too, the process that started in 1988 will end.” But the process starts from here, my dears :)

I only worry about my cats, but I am sure they will be well cared for 🙂 I thank everyone who has supported me!

With love from Baku Investigation Detention Facility,

Ulviya Ali