For Alym, a 38-year-old Kyrgyz taxi driver and father of two residing near Moscow, daily existence in Russia is characterized by an oppressive cycle of digital monitoring, institutional corruption, and social hostility. His experience reflects the grim reality facing an estimated 6.5 million foreign nationals, predominantly low-wage workers from Central Asia who form a critical pillar of Russia’s economy amid severe labor shortages exacerbated by its military operations in Ukraine.
Migrants navigate a labyrinth of bureaucratic exploitation, with law enforcement routinely demanding off-the-books payments—often reaching $300—for essential documentation including registrations, work permits, and patents. Compounding this financial burden is the state-mandated Amina surveillance application, which requires daily location sharing. Failure to comply for just 72 hours results in placement on an official ‘register of monitored persons,’ triggering frozen bank accounts, employment termination, academic expulsion, or even deportation.
This climate of institutionalized pressure intensified following President Vladimir Putin’s 2023 policy enactment designed to ‘limit the presence of migrants’ family members,’ ostensibly to reduce strain on social services. Among its most controversial measures are excessively stringent language proficiency tests for migrant children seeking school admission—a requirement that federal data indicates could block 87% of such students from education by 2025.
Anna Orlova, a Russian language instructor with the Migratory Children project, condemns the policy as counterproductive, stating, ‘We should, on the contrary, be glad that migrants come to us. It means the Russian economy is growing.’
Xenophobic sentiment, historically pervasive in Russian society, has escalated further since the March 2024 concert hall massacre near Moscow, for which four Tajik nationals stand accused. This incident catalyzed political rhetoric against immigration, with ultra-nationalist parties like the Kremlin-allied LDPR capitalizing on public anxiety. Party leader Leonid Slutsky declared, ‘We’re fed up with this situation,’ accusing migrants of ‘undermining the principles and traditions’ of Russian society.
Tragically, this hostility permeates everyday life. Alym’s son was recently assaulted by Russian classmates, echoing December’s fatal stabbing of a 10-year-old Tajik boy by a teenager espousing neo-Nazi ideologies.
Svetlana Gannushkina of the ‘foreign agent’-designated Civic Assistance group observes, ‘A migrant’s life in Russia is difficult. The migrant becomes an enemy on whom the discontent in society is funneled.’ With inflation surging and military taxes increasing, anti-immigrant narratives falsely blame migrants for wage suppression and job theft.
For many like Alym, who once aspired to Russian citizenship, the ongoing Ukraine offensive has transformed that dream into a fear of conscription. He now plans to return to Kyrgyzstan by 2030, joining a growing exodus of families whose children face educational exclusion.
