Inside the hell of Saudi Arabia's women's rehabilitation centers

[This article was first published on our site on July 14, 2025 and republished on August 14.]
In the first photo [illustrating an article in the Saudi daily Al-Watan published in 2013], a young woman dressed in a black abaya is perched dangerously on a windowsill on the second floor of a house in a city in northwest Saudi Arabia. In a second shot, a group of men use a crane to lower her.
The identity of this woman remains a mystery. She is believed to be held in one of Saudi Arabia's renowned "prisons," where women are sent by their families or husbands for disobeying orders, having extramarital affairs, or being absent from home.
These photographs offer a rare glimpse into the condition of the hundreds, if not thousands, of girls and young women believed to be detained in these centers, where they are “rehabilitated” in order to be returned to their families.
Speaking publicly or broadcasting images of these “homes,” or Dar Al-Re'aya (Arabic for “care homes”), has become impossible in a country where women’s rights defenders have been silenced. Yet over the past six months, the Guardian has gathered testimonies documenting the reality of these institutions , described as “hellish,” where weekly floggings take place and religious instruction is imposed, without victims having access to the outside world or the right to visits.
Conditions there are so inhumane that several women have committed suicide or attempted to do so. They can languish there for years because they can only leave with the permission of their family or a guardian.
A young Saudi woman who later managed to escape into exile testifies:
“Every girl growing up in Saudi Arabia knows about Dar Al-Re'aya and all the horrors it brings. It's hell. I tried to take my own life when I learned I was going there. I knew what the women go through there, and I immediately thought I wouldn't be able to survive.”
Maryam Aldossari, a Saudi activist based in London, explains that “girls and women are kept there until they comply with the rules.”
As the monarchy celebrates hosting the FIFA Men's World Cup [in 2034] and cultivates its image as a reformed state, women who dare to demand more rights and freedoms are placed under house arrest, imprisoned, or forced into exile. Activists say the regime uses these "homes" to discreetly control and punish women. They are calling for their abolition.
According to Saudi officials, these centers, established across the country in the 1960s, "take in girls accused or convicted of various crimes" and serve to "rehabilitate the prisoners" through the intervention of psychiatrists, "so that they can be returned to their families."
Sarah Al-Yahia, who led a campaign to abolish the shelters, spoke to several girls who described a system of abuse in which inmates are strip-searched and virginity tested upon arrival, before being sedated.
“It's a prison, certainly not a home as they like to call it. There, numbers replace names. 'Number 35, come here.' When one of the girls gives her last name, she's whipped. If she doesn't pray, she's whipped. Likewise, if she's alone with another woman, the guards accuse her of being a lesbian. They even come to watch the group whippings.”
Sarah Al-Yahia, now 38 and living in exile, says her parents threatened to send her to Dar Al-Re'aya when she was 13. “My father used that as a threat to continue sexually abusing me,” she says, adding that girls and women face a terrible dilemma: either they are sent to a center or they stay with their abusive families.
“They make it impossible to help those fleeing abuse. I know a Saudi woman who was sentenced to six months in prison for helping a victim. Taking in a woman accused of ' truancy' is a crime in Saudi Arabia,” she recalls.
“If your brother or father abuses you or makes you pregnant, you are the one sent to Dar Al-Re'aya to protect the family's reputation,” she says.
Amina*, 25, said she sought refuge after being beaten by her father in a shelter in Burayda, a city in the center of the country. She described the building as “old, dilapidated, and chilling,” and the staff as “cold and unhelpful.” They downplayed her situation, adding that other girls were “chained in their homes” and had “a much harder life,” and that Amina should “thank God that [her] situation is not this terrible.”
The next day, her father was summoned, but the staff did almost nothing to protect her. “They asked us to write down our 'conditions.' I asked to stop being beaten, not to be forced into marriage, and to be able to work. My father demanded that I respect everyone, never leave the house without permission, and always be accompanied by a chaperone. I signed out of fear—I didn't think I had a choice.”
When she returned home, her father continued to beat her, and she had to go into exile. “I felt completely alone and terrified. A prisoner in my own home, with no one to protect or defend me. As if my life was worthless, and if something terrible happened to me, no one would care,” she says.
Fear of the Dar Al-Re'aya is instilled in young girls at a very early age. Shams* says that when she was only 16, a woman who had returned from one of these centers came to her school. She recounted her relationship with a boy, her subsequent arrest by the religious police, and the confession she made to her father. When she became pregnant, her family disowned her, and her father refused to let her marry. That's how she ended up in one of the Dar Al-Re'aya.
“She explained to us that a woman who has sex or goes out with someone 'loses all value' . A man is always a man, but a woman who sells herself short retains that status for the rest of her life.”
Layla*, who still lives in the country, says she was sent to a center after complaining to the police about her father and brothers. They abused her and accused her of bringing shame on her family for posting messages on social media about women's rights. She was unable to return home until she received permission from her father, even though he was her alleged abuser.
“These women have no one to turn to. They can be abandoned for years even though they haven't committed a single crime,” laments a Saudi feminist activist who prefers to remain anonymous. “The only escapes are marriage, the goodwill of their guardian, or jumping off the top of the building. Older men or former prisoners who can't find a wife turn to these institutions. And some women may accept, because it's their only way out.”
Some Saudis claim this confinement is deserved, that women should be grateful to have government-run institutions protecting them, says Fawzia Al-Otaibi, an exiled activist who was forced to flee the country in 2022. “No one dares to tweet or talk about these places, no one asks about you when you're sent there. They put all the blame on the victims,” she says.
Activists believe that if the regime truly took women's rights seriously, it would reform the shelter system to provide real shelters for victims of violence. "There are families who don't beat their wives or sentence them to imprisonment. However, the lives of many Saudi women are strictly regulated, and they endure abuse in complete silence. The state reinforces this violence with its shelters, which exist only to perpetuate discrimination against women. Why do the Saudi authorities allow them to operate?"
In the eyes of the Saudis, the Dar Al-Re'aya are a tool used by the state to enforce gender norms, “which clash with their discourse on women's emancipation,” analyses the human rights association ALQST.
For the association's campaign manager, Nadyeen Abdulaziz, "if the government truly wants to advance women's rights, it must abolish this discriminatory system and allow the establishment of real shelters that, rather than punishing them, would protect victims of violence."
A government spokesperson claims that a network of specialized centers exists to support vulnerable groups, including women and children who are victims of domestic violence. He categorically denies any detention or mistreatment.
“These are not detention centers; even the slightest allegation of violence is taken seriously and thoroughly investigated. These women are free to leave whenever they want, whether to study, work, or otherwise. They can leave permanently whenever they want, without needing permission from a guardian or family member.”
According to him, a hotline confidentially receives complaints of domestic violence. According to him, the authorities then respond quickly to these complaints to ensure the safety of the victims.
* First names have been changed.