Since Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Irina Filatova of Boliden has become a vocal critic of the war and the Russian regime. She's been active on social media, sharing articles and texts against the war, and has donated financially to support Ukraine.
Irina's activism extends beyond online actions; she was also involved with Alexei Navalny's foundation FBK and even protested outside the Russian embassy in Stockholm during the March elections. Her voice against the regime was captured in an SVT broadcast.
Her activism has fueled her anxieties about returning to Russia.
– Migrationsverket doesn't think what I've done is enough proof of danger, she says, her voice laced with frustration.
– How much is enough? A million dollars? Half a million followers?
Her fears are not unfounded. A Russian-American woman was recently arrested for treason after donating a mere $50 to a Ukrainian aid organization.
Irina is certain she's wanted in Russia. Just days after her Stockholm protest, police visited her grandmother's home in Russia, looking for her.
– This confirmed my fears, she says.
– When she told me, I got very scared, but I thought as long as I'm in Sweden, nothing can happen.
– A person like me can just vanish into the darkness, into the fog, she says, meaning that it doesn't matter to the Russian regime how widespread or limited her activism has been, they can "disappear" her
She has appealed Migrationverket's decision, but has been denied the opportunity to be heard again when the case is reviewed. She hopes that they will come to the same conclusion that she has: if she returns to Russia, it will be to prison.
Li Bennich-Björkman is a professor of political science at the Institute of Russian and Eurasian Studies at Uppsala University, and says Irina's concerns are justified:
– I would think that her assessment is correct.
Bennich-Björkman says it is difficult to determine the extent to which Russia is arresting people for criticizing the war, because all information coming from Russia must be considered propaganda.
Sweden is the only place Irina has ever truly called home. Having spent most of her life here, she dreams of a normal life – attending university, pursuing a career, and raising her children.
– School and high school here shaped my future, she reflects.
– I know I have the potential to succeed, but this situation robs me of that chance.
Irina's path to stability has been fraught with challenges. She arrived in Sweden with her mother, but they were never granted residence permits during her childhood. As a young adult, the weight of responsibility for their immigration status fell on her shoulders. Unfortunately, the news of her asylum denial coincided with the discovery of her first pregnancy, while she was in Russia.
A glimmer of hope arrived in the form of a two-year visa. Returning to Sweden felt like a safe haven, and with the birth of her second child soon after, Irina believed her future was secure.
– Looking back, it wasn't the wisest decision, but life rarely follows a perfect plan. I was young and scared.
When the visa expired after two years Irina says that external pressures and the fear of separation from her children prevented her from seeking help from the authorities.
While acknowledging she broke Swedish law by overstaying her visa, Irina struggles with the Migrationsverket's reasoning. Their decision, which Norran has seen, states, "The provided circumstances don't offer a strong enough case for persecution based on political beliefs."
– I don't jaywalk or litter, she argues, her voice raw with frustration.
– According to them, I'm a criminal What exactly qualifies as persecution in their eyes?
Despite the precarious situation, Irina has always strived to legalize her status.
– Living undocumented has been incredibly difficult but it was preferable to bringing my children back to Russia.
The children, born and raised entirely in Sweden, lack citizenship in any country. This technicality wouldn't result in their deportation, but Irina fears a de facto separation from them.
Sweden upholds the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, yet their father's deportation leaves their future uncertain. Tears welling up, Irina confesses her helplessness:
– I don't know what will become of them. All I want is to provide them with a safe and secure future.
The agency also clarified that a child's best interests are considered, but the decision doesn't always have to align with those interests.
Tears stream down Irina's face as she talks about her children.
– The thought of being separated from them is unbearable, she chokes out.
– If it were just me, I wouldn't care. But now, I have these two precious lives depending on me.
Despite the immense challenges, Irina harbors no regrets about coming to Sweden.
– It's the greatest gift I've ever received, she says, her voice filled with gratitude.
– My mother brought me here and showed me a world of possibilities, a world far better than anything I could have imagined.
Her only wish is to stay in Sweden and build a normal life for her children.
I don't need a castle or shooting stars, she says simply.
– I'm healthy and capable. All I ask for is the chance to stay. Hope, after all, is the last thing to die.