Neve Tirza, Israel’s only women’s prison, presents a complex reality of pain and rehabilitation. The facility houses a wide range of inmates, from mothers convicted of murdering their children to a young woman raising her baby within the prison walls.
Recently, the institution made headlines for its crumbling infrastructure and outdated physical conditions. Now, we choose to focus on the human stories unfolding behind its peeling walls and rusted bars.
A child who thinks prison is home
The prison’s Savyon Wing, ironically named after the groundsel flower symbolizing bloom and growth, is one of the most somber areas in Israel’s corrections system. Here, women once known as "mothers" are serving sentences for the unthinkable crime of murdering their children. Among them are Karina Bril, convicted of killing her two children in Jerusalem; Marie Pizem, sentenced for the murder of her daughter Rose, whose body was found in a suitcase in Tel Aviv’s Yarkon River; and Sigal Itskovich, accused of murdering her son in their Herzliya home.
A short walk from the wing, at the end of a corridor, is a very different story. In a modest room with bunk beds and a crib, a young mother is trying to create a semblance of normalcy for her toddler during her relatively short prison term. The cracked gray walls are adorned with colorful childlike drawings—a small effort to brighten the bleak environment. Here, amid confinement, she struggles to maintain her role as a mother in a place where freedom has been taken from her.
“I’m serving 18 months and hope to be released early. It’s hard raising a child here, but I chose not to give up on being with him,” she explains. “He was just 40 days old when he came to prison with me. The hardest part is that there are no other children here, and he doesn’t have experiences like other kids. But the most important thing is that he’s with me. My sentence is under two years, and the court approved this arrangement. Other mothers aren’t given this option.”
“All the inmates treat him like ‘the wing’s child.’ They play with him and are kind to him. I take him to routine checkups at the well-baby clinic with a prison escort. He watches TV, and the guards take him to the yard to play. He thinks this is his home,” she says.
When asked about her fears of returning to prison in the future, she firmly responds: “I will never come back here. When he’s 18, I’ll tell him about this time. He might ask about his childhood, and I’ll have to explain that he spent his first year behind bars.”
Between violence and trauma
Neve Tirtza’s wings are divided into specialized sections, each tailored to the diverse needs of its inmates and detainees. The Savyon Wing houses women without a history of drug use or those who have completed long-term rehabilitation. It primarily accommodates detainees serving lengthy terms and is known for its population of inmates with no disciplinary infractions.
Other wings cater to various stages of detention and rehabilitation. Wing 1, referred to as the "Advanced Wing," is designated for inmates and detainees in the later stages of rehabilitation. In contrast, Wing 2 serves as an entry-level wing for newly detained women, including short-term detainees. This wing is deliberately devoid of televisions to prevent any risk of disrupting legal proceedings.
The Therapeutic Wing (Wing 3) includes two specialized departments, each with 16 beds: the “Circles” department focuses on addressing violence, while the “Alma” department specializes in trauma treatment. Adjacent to this is Wing 4, a smaller ward serving as an intermediate step in the rehabilitation process.
Wing 6, or the Rehabilitation Wing, is intended for inmates in the advanced stages of their sentences. Four women in this wing even participate in community work programs. The facility also includes Wing 8, a section for minors that allows for integration with adult inmates under court approval.
A distinctive feature of Neve Tirtza is the integration of convicted inmates and detainees across all wings. This approach enables women, even before their trials conclude, to engage in educational and occupational activities, benefiting from therapeutic resources available within the prison from the early stages of detention.
'Inmates who had killed their own children help care for the baby'
Y., a former inmate, shares her experience in prison: "It wasn’t easy. I went through dozens of arrests, but this was unlike anything else. It was extraordinarily challenging. The physical conditions were harsh, especially the overcrowding. I was in a small, 10-square-meter room with four other women, and at times even five. For half the day, we were crammed in there together.
"I was placed with women who had committed minor offenses, but that didn’t make them easier to share a room with. There were thieves and con artists; our relationships were fine, but far from perfect. Honestly? The murderers weren’t scary at all. As women, we understand what might drive someone to commit such an act. They’re as much victims as they are criminals.
"One well-known inmate who killed her son, for example, went through a significant process. I spent many hours with her. She’s eager to tell her story, but getting approval for that is a massive challenge. If someone manages it, they’ll find a fascinating tale. She’s quiet and unassuming, not at all like the image of her as the ‘queen of the prison.’
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"On my first day there, I was thrown into a completely different world from my normal life, and what I encountered shook me. The other inmates actually treated me with great respect. I thought they’d dismiss me as some snob who was there for a few weeks, but it was the opposite. They welcomed me warmly and made me a sort of ‘queen of the cell.’ They wouldn’t even let me wash the dishes or clean the floors."
'Inmates who had killed their own children help care for the baby in the wing; his mother doesn’t fear letting them hold him. But even here, there are fears—not of the women themselves but of being transferred to lower-status wings where the conditions are unbearable'
The day in prison starts early, at 5:30 a.m., with a headcount of the inmates. "After that, we go back to sleep because there’s nothing else to do," Y. says. At 6:30 a.m., breakfast is served – a cup of milk and cottage cheese. At 7:00 a.m., the cells are opened, and the women get ready and head off to their assigned tasks. "At 10:30, we’re locked back in the cells until 12:30, and then we’re let out for lunch."
"After lunch, there are ‘free hours,’ when we’re allowed into a small 14.5-meter yard surrounded by barbed wire fences. I tried going there a few times, but it was even more depressing than staying in the wing itself. I saw a mother showing her child birds through the fences – it was heartbreaking."
"Mothers in the wing support each other, even when it comes to caring for the children. Inmates who had killed their own children help care for the baby in the wing; his mother doesn’t fear letting them hold him. But even here, there are fears—not of the women themselves but of being transferred to lower-status wings where the conditions are unbearable."
"On my release day, I left quietly without telling anyone. We went to the bakery across from the prison, had a cappuccino, and then headed home. Life seemingly went back to normal, but it leaves a mark. For example, when I entered a mall and saw security guards, I instinctively raised my hands for a search. The experience leaves scars and thoughts that linger. I still worry about the women I left behind and feel like I’m living half here and half there. Sitting in the yard, surrounded by barbed wire, with other offenders was something I’ll never forget. Playing truth or dare between those fences and hearing stories that brought everything back up—it’s an experience that stays with you," Y. recounts.
'The first time I saw children playing—I just cried'
Vered Refaeli began her career as a prison guard at Neve Tirtza and came full circle when she was appointed its commander a year and a half ago. In a farewell interview, she highlighted the unique challenges of running Israel’s only women’s prison as opposed to other detention facilities.
"Unlike other facilities where cells are designated for detainees only, here we house both detainees and sentenced inmates. A prisoner remains here from the moment of arrest until release, which creates unique management challenges," Refaeli explained.
Refaeli joined the Israel Prison Service after a close friend shared her positive experience. "From the moment I started, I knew this was my path. I aspired to return here as a commander. It’s a demanding 24/7 role, but I love what I do. I have support from home and manage to balance work and family," she said.
"We are an executive authority, and I do everything I can to ensure that the inmates leave better prepared to rejoin society. The female inmate population here differs significantly from male prisoners," she said. "Men often belong to gangs or organized crime, while women tend to commit crimes due to emotional or situational distress. When they enter prison, their entire world falls apart. About 60% of the women here come from a background of prostitution, so this facility has a strong rehabilitative purpose.
"On the one hand, there’s discipline and clear rules, but on the other, we provide tools to help them reintegrate into society. There are success stories, but unfortunately, there are failures too. Some inmates are released only to return quickly to the cycle of prostitution and the streets, while others seize the opportunity with both hands."
Discussing the success of rehabilitation programs at the prison, Refaeli said, "We are seeing more and more successes. The facts speak for themselves—recidivism rates among women are significantly lower than among men. This is particularly striking when you look at the big picture: out of 22,000 inmates in the Israel Prison Service, only 188 are women."
The challenges, however, remain complex and varied. "Every inmate who arrives with media attention poses a unique challenge for integration into the prison wings," she explained. "But we are committed to treating everyone the same, regardless of the headlines their cases may have generated. I’ve seen high-profile inmates seamlessly integrate into wing duties and become just like everyone else."
For Refaeli, the most emotional moments come during family visits. "Once a month, as part of a special program, children come to visit their mothers in prison. The first time I saw these visits—the laughter and the children playing—I just cried. As a mother, it really hit me," she shared.
These experiences, she admitted, have had a personal impact. "I find myself asking more questions about everything, especially when it comes to children. My kids know about my work—they’ve even visited here. But yes, it’s something that leaves a mark. It messes you up a little inside."