Anna Karetnikova

20 – 27 March 2026

by Anna Karetnikova

Source: Facebook

20 March 2026

So they started talking about extrabudgetary funding and I thought of something courtesy of Liliya Chanysheva. Maybe some resident of a certain remand centre remembers this strange episode in my prison biography—how I traded in chickens. A very useful episode for understanding how the whole system works.

The general, my superior, kept glancing, dissatisfied, in the direction of this Kaluzhskoe FGUP [federal state unitary enterprise] that prisoners were constantly complaining about: excessively high prices and delivery times constantly not met. The general was someone easily carried away, and at some meeting he said that we weren’t any worse than an Internet store, we could feed everyone ourselves: the prisoners would be happy, and we would make a little money.

Well, he said it and forgot it. I had plenty of concerns of my own, too. But a few months later, in the officers’ cafeteria in a certain remand centre, Dima, the head of this cafeteria, sat down with me and said sadly, ‘You see, Alisa, I’ve got these hens in the refrigerator, and they’re going to spoil. I’ve already tried to get rid of them three times, but their expiration date is running out.’

I said, ‘Aha. The refrigerator needs repairing? I’ll write that down right away’. He: ‘No, the refrigerator’s working fine, but we have these hens for the zeks… They already brought them and put them in the refrigerator, and the rotisserie is over there turning, but no one’s ordering the chicken. And what am I supposed to do with them? I’m feeding them to the staff, but they don’t want to eat just chicken. Maybe you can think of something?’

Okay. I’m supposed to help people… On my rounds of the wholly self-sufficient ‘entrepreneurial’ block, I sat in a cell and was writing down something there about health, and suddenly said, ‘Guys, do you want a rotisserie chicken?’ They looked at me oddly: ‘Anna Georgievna, it’s obvious you’ve been working too hard, really.’ But I was persistent. I said, ‘Write a request for a chicken! In prison, everything happens by requests…’

They didn’t want to write a request. Not because they had criminal inclinations but because it looked like a prison trick on the order of ‘Please take me to Auchan [the supermarket chain – ed.]’—the way they trick newbies. I asked every possible way: ‘Come on, for my sake, at least one of you in the cell write…’ A few did write for my sake, yes.

I collected 12 requests—‘I ask to be brought a rotisserie chicken’ (as many as fit in the oven)—and carted them off to bookkeeping for them to make sure that those making the request had enough money in their accounts. They looked at me strangely there, too (what chicken? poor Anna Georgievna has lost her mind). And this is because, in a remand centre, one service rarely knows what another is doing unless it affects them directly.

I was pleased I’d done a good deed and went home. A couple of days later I went into the cells, and the prisoners said, skeptically, ‘Well, it’s just as we thought… They didn’t bring any chickens.’ Fine, then, let’s talk about our health.

Once again I went to bookkeeping. ‘Where are the requests?’ Bookkeeper: ‘We didn’t know what to do with them. We tried to send them to the Internet store as you instructed, but they wouldn’t take them.’

Aha. I went to the FGUP (their warehouse is on our territory). The scheme really is such that the requests need to go through the FGUP (because the remand centre has no rights to extrabudgetary funds). Only the firm didn’t give a damn about it because it sells its own chickens for triple the price. What do they need that kind of competition for?

I swore, I demanded, I referred to the general. I made all kinds of threats. I handed them the requests. I connected them by phone with bookkeeping. In my presence, so they would discuss every question.

I came back two days later. The prisoners’ eyes were like saucers. They looked at me as if I were a ghost: they’d been brought the rotisserie chickens. (I’m exaggerating here for brevity’s sake. This actually took five or six visits.) Here we have the prison grapevine going into action, everyone trying to clarify: What do you mean, chickens? They really brought chickens? You sure you’re not having a psych epidemic? So they discussed it among themselves when they met in person and over the lines. And Dima, the cafeteria boss, is like: ‘Thank you so much! Very much! It worked! Another 600 chickens to go!’ 

I told the prisoners, ‘Now give the staff your requests’. They said, ‘No, they won’t get there like that. If we give them to you, then they will. But the staff laugh and won’t take our requests. Or they do and then throw them away. Because they aren’t bringing us chickens. We even showed them the bones, but they didn’t believe it, they said we’re crazy. They don’t cook rotisserie chickens in prison. This is no resort.’

…I called a staff meeting. I showed them the chicken, I showed them the requests. I explained, ‘You’ll register the requests and take them to bookkeeping. Then the store will bring the chicken. Anyone who doesn’t get how these things are connected—the general’s going to explain to him by way of mass firings and executions. I want out of this scheme. I have work to do.’

After a while I went to the block. Prisoners, what are your desires, suggestions, concerns? Has anyone gotten sick? Is anything burned out or leaking? Is the staff mistreating you?

They’re like: ‘Chicken-chicken-chicken-chicken, we want chicken, bring chicken, they aren’t bringing chicken!’

I went to the cafeteria boss. He: ‘I’m waiting for the chickens! They’re supposed to bring them! The refrigerator’s out, and I have a hundred unfilled requests.’ Me: ‘Yes, I’ve brought another hundred. Well, sort this out. I’ll tell the general there aren’t any more hens.’ Dima: ‘You came through for me! How about dinner? I’ll serve you the very best of everything!’

The consequences of this were such that the crazy head of the remand centre, Bobryshev, who couldn’t stand me, periodically would send his equally crazy logistics officer to make sure Dima wasn’t feeding me for free. This went on until I realized that there simply is no cash register in the cafeteria and without it they can’t feed anyone even for money, and I didn’t set an answering blow. Then they stop following what you’re doing, I’d outmaneuvered them.

The second consequence was that when I was accompanying some distinguished delegation through the remand centre, and the prisoners, at the sight of me, delightedly called out, ‘Anna Georgievna! Chicken!’ the delegation gave me a bewildered look. They had no idea.

Later, naturally, there were inspections and they determined that we were doing something out of line after all, and the general wound down this chicken paradise. But rotisseries had already been purchased for all the remand centres… That’s just how it goes. Old-timers recall those days with nostalgia.

Source: Facebook

22 March 2026

I think, by the French calendar, spring has come. Or is about to. Spring is making Troyes pretty! (Though it’s really time to get out of here.) Somehow I have to, just have to take the leap…

Source: Facebook

24 March 2026

The FSB for Sverdlovsk Oblast reported that it has conducted a ‘social experiment’: it has anonymously invited people to bring in narcotics and organize acts of sabotage. 

It’s praiseworthy that the service has admitted the long since ubiquitously inculcated practice of operational provocation banned by legislation, this is the start of a major path. We’re waiting for when they admit to applying ‘social engineering’, the total fabrication of criminal cases, the unleashing of hybrid wars, and the torture and attempted assassinations of opposition leaders. Priceless sincerity!

Source: Facebook

25 March 2026

Apparently the star of ‘state treason lite’, Article 275.1 of the Russian Criminal Code, has waned. The ‘confidential collaboration’ trend is such that all over the country cases under this article are being requalified as state treason: in the preliminary investigation, at trial, on appeal, and in cassation. That is, someone has already served his five years for interacting confidentially with a foreigner and has reconciled himself to this thought, and then—wham! he gets 15 years. Maybe even life.

I’ve written a set of examples to prove the presence of this trend and what we think about this when it comes to lowering the standards of proof. Link here.

Source: Facebook

26 March 2026

A question about housing near Paris. Serezha went to look at an apartment in Nanterre—two rooms and a big kitchen, 15 minutes from the RER (Réseau Express Régional). And evidently we have a day to tell them whether we’re moving there or not because I can’t say that we’re flooded with offers. Can any Parisian or knowledgeable person advise me? Is this not too terrible a place? And what should we pay attention to in signing a lease? (We basically understand nothing about this.)

We’re also going to have to break our lease here. What can we expect on that path? I’m anticipating some kind of trick…

Source: Facebook

27 March 2026

How sweet.

Caution, news

They have asked to designate Memorial* an extremist organization.

The suit has gone to the Russian Supreme Court, they found Caution, News in the catalogue. The movement was dissolved by decision of the court in late 2021. The date for consideration has yet to be set. The hearing will be held in camera.

*foreign agent

Source: Facebook

Translated by Marian Schwartz