“A Woman without a Name”
In the name of God.
Warning: This film is not
recommended for viewers under the age of 14.
Comments made by people interviewed
in this documentary are exclusively their own views and are not necessarily the
truth behind their cases.
“A Woman without a Name”
Directed by Farzad Khoshdast
Women’s Prison, Shahre-Rey,
Qarchak, Tehran.
Summer 2015
Woman crying in the background:
I swear I didn’t say that…the whole
thing was this man’s job.
I swear I’m innocent. He’s the one
who deceived me.
He tempted me with drugs. Believe me,
I didn’t do anything wrong.
I swear, this is not what I meant to
happen.
Please have mercy on me, for God’s
sake, please.
For God’s sake, I never wanted this
to happen to him.
Please, have mercy on my young age.
For God’s sake, please.
Please Mohammad, pardon me and set
me free.
I’m so sorry. For God’s sake.
Sir, please do something for
me.
Have mercy on me, I’m still too
young, please.
I swear I didn’t do that…
I don’t want to waste my youth here.
My life will be devastated in this
place. Oh my Lord!
Wall writing: (From left: More
wounded than ever…O’ freedom, I’ll reach you…The lonely wanderer…The prisoner’s
world is but a wall…)
5:31:
Door No.1:
I married a man, about whom I had no
idea.
I married him only to escape my
stepfather.
So, I married him and actually
risked everything.
He took me with him to build me a
life.
But it was too hard for me to live
with an addicted husband.
At the same time, I had no way out
to safety.
I was sick and tired of him. A
couple of times, I decided to leave him.
But I had nowhere to go, couldn’t go
to my family’s.
Still, they agreed to shelter me. My
mom agreed to let me in for a while.
However, I was too scared, because
my stepfather was there.
My husband was worried, fearing that
I may leave him alone.
So he decided to drag me into drugs
and make me an addict like him.
7-38:
My dependence on drugs rapidly
increased.
I even started to do shots. And so
did my husband.
After a few years, I gave birth to
my daughter.
One day, I told him that I wanted get
separated.
I asked him for the custody of the
kid and to let me go.
He said he would agree with that
only in exchange for a condition:
That I must do him a favor.
He gave me a knife, a gun and other
things, telling me what I could do using them.
But I was scared of all those
weapons.
Then he gave me an acid container,
saying you could use it only to scare the victim.
So, I thought that only threating is
much safer than actually using those weapons.
And on that very day, I was pretty
stoned, having taken a huge dose of meth and cocaine.
That gave me this fake sense of
bravery, that I was able to do everything. That I could subdue 10 men, let
alone only one.
So, I blocked the victim’s way. But
actually he picked me up.
We had a little chat in the car.
Then he said let’s go somewhere and
talk and stuff.
I accepted that but added that since
I’m an addict, I need to buy some meth.
I take meth so I need to buy some, I
told him.
So, he was fine with that.
We went to this neighborhood called Khoshnam in Marlik, outside
Karaj. So, I directed him over there.
Then I pretended to be talking on
the phone, apparently speaking with a dealer like this “come on, why are you
late? I’m waiting for the drug?”
But then the guy realized I was
lying.
As soon as he wanted to start the
car to flee,
I placed the knife on his neck.
When he turned back to remove the
knife,
I told him I just want your car and
the jewelry in it.
Give me the vehicle and I’ll lift
the jewelry.
Next, when he turned back, I went
clumsy and dropped the knife.
So, he held my hand and threatened
to take me to the police,
saying I was a thief and told me
stuff.
I was scared to my bones.
Now, the acid was in a plastic bag
which I’d kept in a 4-liter container this size.
So, when he started the car to move
me to the police station,
I opened the container and warned
him that I was going to pour it on him.
I said just let me go, I don’t want
anything. I don’t know what happened.
I just sprayed the acid on him from
the back seat.
I suddenly realized that the acid totally
razed his seat to the bottom and it fell apart!
The guy was burning nonstop.
While burning, he got hold of my
arms with his hands and that left some burns on me too.
I kept telling him, please, I’m
sorry, you’re dying, let me take you to a hospital.
After he fell unconscious, I started
searching in the dash compartment,
under the seats and everywhere until
I found a box this size,
where the jewelry was kept.
So, I grabbed it, immediately closed
the acid container
and though I was injured too,
started running toward the road.
The box contained 3 kilos of gold.
When I opened it, I saw everything,
gold chains, rings, standard coins and stuff.
So, I buried and hid the jewelry.
But I never found them when I went
back there later.
11-44:
We used to live in Karaj.
The place we lived in was like a
village.
My father was a farmer and we lived
in his garden.
We always dreamed of moving to
Tehran.
We did later, but after moving to
Tehran, our life fell apart.
I loved it when my dad and mom they
were together.
“This woman committed the crime at
the age of 19.
She’s now spent 7.5 years of her term.
The man who fell victim to her acid
attack has already undertaken 12 surgeries.
While still suffering from the
consequences of the attack, he left Iran. There’s no information on his fate
and whereabouts now.”
My father started not to get along
with my mother any mother.
So, my mom chose not to live with
him in return.
Well, whether it was an excuse or
not, I don’t know.
Whether it was my father’s
mistreatment toward her,
or it was just she didn’t like to
stay with him anymore, I don’t know.
Anyway, they got divorced.
And their divorce was a tremendous
blow to me and my younger sister.
There were things which I thought
would make us happy if we gain them.
We did gain them later, but I
realized that they never brought us real happiness.
Actually, they worsened our lives.
My stepfather used to beat me up and
mistreat me.
He would forcefully cut my hair.
So that I’d never like to go out of
home.
And my mother never listed to me,
she never believed me.
Therefore, I had to make a blind
choice in my marriage.
I married someone I had no idea
about.
I didn’t even know his age, nor
where he was from.
I knew absolutely nothing about him.
14-46:
This place is called the triangular
clinic, and this section is used for awareness purposes,
where we are given information about
different disease such as HIV and hepatitis.
Issues like prevention and
treatment, I mean what illnesses are curable and which are not.
I miss my family and I want to go
back to them, to my life, to my little kid.
She’s now held at the state nursery,
while I’m away from her.
I’ve fallen sick here, a disease
which has no cure.
So, for the little rest of my life,
whether it’s a couple of years or
just a couple of days,
no matter how short, I just want to
spend it with my daughter.
You know diseases like hepatitis and
AIDS are serious ones.
In the short remaining period of my
life,
I want to stand on kid’s side.
I’m ready to work like a servant in
his home (the acid attack victim’s)
in the rest of my life.
And work like a maid for his wife
and kids.
All I just want in exchange is being
able to be with my kid.
Sometimes when they bring my
daughter to visit me here,
all she wants is one hour to sit
down and have food with me.
16-27:
I was stuck at the hands of a man
who had victimized his wife and kid
only to serve his own dirty
purposes.
I could have chosen not to do that
for him.
But I did it because I thought that
way I would save myself from him,
and would have the chance to live
peacefully with my daughter and away from him.
17-12
Interviewer:
-Excuse me ma’am, can we show your
face in the video?
(((Door No.2)))
Woman: Oh, it’s ok. My plaintiff has
sent me a message asking me to talk to you.
-So, I can ask my cameraman to
include your face in the shot, right?
Oh, fine by me.
-Ok sir, you can film her so that
the viewers can see her face.
-First of all I want to know why you
ended up here.
Murder.
-Murder?
Yes.
-Can you possibly tell me who you
killed?
No mother ever wants to lose her
kids.
My neighbor duped me into (drugs).
He said it was a great thing
(painkiller).
And since I was suffering from
pregnancy pains for my first baby, (I was tempted).
He said the drugs would tranquilize
you, it’s a sedative that kills your pain.
Up until then, I had no idea what a pipe
and meth were like.
I kept wondering what they were.
One night my baby never stopped
crying.
I decided to keep him calm. He was
actually calm, but I just wanted to make him sleep.
But I’d taken a big dose of drugs.
My husband wasn’t aware about that.
He had no idea that I was an addict.
I was trying to rock my baby into
sleeping.
I covered his face with a blanket.
And then I pressed his face with the
pillow.
19-07:
When she gave birth to me, my mother
abandoned me outside a hospital.
So, (in my whole childhood), there
was no one to help me,
no one I could share my pains with,
no one I could cry with and let the
pain out.
There was no one whose shoulders
could bear my head,
no one to hug me and relieve my
suffering.
-So?
Then, I was sick and tired of my
father, and his abuses
and his dirty proposals to me, that
had worn me out.
I even found out much later that my
father was an addict.
I didn’t have any idea. I found out
quite later.
He was using me to earn money…it’s
so tough…
I really feel pity for having such a
father.
I don’t even want to see him.
How could a father abuse his
daughter?
Such a father is a worthless
creature.
I got sick and tired of the filthy
life he’d made for me.
He would invite over his friends (to
sleep with me).
He said he had a pile of debts. And
that if he failed to pay them off, he’d face prison.
I didn’t know that he actually used
the money to buy drugs.
So, I made up my mind and ran away
from him.
I was sick and tired of that life.
I was exhausted with the situation
he’d created for me.
So, I was mostly wandering on roads,
(from one town to another).
Sometimes, I’d fall sleep on the
roads, on the buses.
Once, there was this guy, who I
hoped would help me out.
But he left me alone too.
I was on a bus to Tehran later, as I
just wanted to go from one place to another.
Then a gentleman came toward me,
saying “excuse me lady, can I talk to you?”
I was extremely sacred. My eyes were
filled with fear.
He saved me and stood up for me,
he (my husband) even stood against
his brother and sister to defend me.
He was such a great man!
When I lost my older son, I was
pregnant with my second son, like 4 or 5 months into pregnancy.
We came moved to Tehran and I found
my father’s place.
I went to him…He only kept lying
that he liked me.
I mean from the bottom of his heart
he never did.
He claimed that he liked my husband
and that he considered him as his own son.
After 5 years living away from my
father,
I expected him to have changed and
treat me like real fathers.
I expected him to have realized his
mistakes.
I’m really regretting what I did.
My husband was upset with me because
he complained that
I should have told him all the truth
about my dad flat out.
He says he was so kind and honest to
me…
When I told him my story and got it
off my chest,
he grabbed a knife and wanted to
take my revenge on my father.
I told my father that hey dad, you
are on the wrong track.
He denied that. But I kept telling
him just that.
I said you are wrong about my
husband.
He was wondering why, and I said I
know my husband quite well.
Then he said but your husband
returns home after midnight.
And I said, ok father, just stop it.
That night he kept arguing with me
and drove me crazy,
so I overreacted and threw my little loved one in anger.
-Where did you throw him? Don’t you want
to answer?
I suddenly lost my temper.
Writing:
“This woman was jailed after killing
her young son. She’s been in prison for 2.5 years now. Ever since she was
incarcerated, she hasn’t heard from her father. And her husband refuses to come
for visitations.”
24-59:
I really had no fault.
I suddenly grabbed my baby, stood up
and threw him on the floor.
Oh God!
-What point did you throw your son
from and where did he collapse that led to his death?
-I mean, I don’t get it, throwing a
baby doesn’t necessarily lead to death. -What did you do?
I threw him real strong.
-Did he die instantly?
No.
What happened? Tell me the story.
My son almost lost consciousness. And
that made me feel scared at that moment.
My father threatened to kill me if I
told my husband about that.
Then at midnight, my baby started
throwing up milk.
I was scared big time. But I
pretended to be asleep,
because I was afraid of my husband
may find out.
So, I went on sleeping.
-Then?
Then my husband thought maybe I
overfed the baby with milk.
And I said no, I didn’t overfeed
him.
The baby kept throwing up milk.
Then my husband said “honey, are you
sure?”
Yes, I replied.
He opened the baby’s diaper,
thinking that it might be bed wetting.
I was still in panic. My father kept
warning me with his gestures.
I’d gone totally clumsy, having no
idea what to do.
My husband even tried to give the
baby mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Then we took him to a hospital.
He slipped in a coma for 9 days.
Later they called from the hospital…
It was all because of the goddamned
drugs.
-You mean you were addicted to
crystal meth back then, right?
He’s tempted me into taking it.
-You mean when you breast-fed the
baby you used to take meth?
I have nothing to say, I just feel
too ashamed, can’t look my husband in the eyes.
I just want to tell him that...
(In the hospital) I tried to pacify my
husband.
I said let’s start from the scratch.
Let’s go back to your hometown.
But the hospital officials had
reported my son’s death to the police as suspicious.
So they summoned us to the criminal police
department.
When we were there, I looked quite
scared. My husband asked me what was wrong with me.
I said, nothing, I’m fine. I’m ok.
-And later?
Then they interrogated me. And I
confessed to the whole thing.
So, they detained me and set my
husband free.
My husband said he would file a
lawsuit against me.
He was extremely angry at me.
30-21:
Woman reciting poem:
“I still love you. Remembering your
affectionate hands keeps me alive.
Your arms still give me the peace
and your love is still the legend,
the opening of all sonnets.
Drag the sword on me, kill me,
embarrass me in my insanity for you,
in my bravery for you.
But I’m still thirsty, so thirsty
about another kiss from your powerful magical lips.
The barren desert of my chest is
still craving for rain.
It’s still shocked and wandering
around.
Don’t push me away. I can’t believe
that.
Believe it or not, your arms still
make miracles every night,
even when I’m displaced in this strange
world.”
31-13:
Door No. 3
31-19:
My marriage was sort of a forced
one. I wasn’t in love with him.
I would say I was traded, given in
exchange for a promise.
Actually, I was forced by my family.
My father said the guy is such a
nice man and that he could make me happy.
He said because the guy is older
than me, so he is wiser and more understanding.
But in my engagement ceremony, when
we were tying the knot,
except for my father, no one from my
family attended.
Back then I wished to have a dowry
like other girls,
to hold a colorful wedding like
other girls.
Becoming a bride is only
once-in-a-lifetime occasion after all.
But, well, all my dreams were buried
alive inside me.
I’d go to the victim’s shop to buy
clothes
(and sell them on the street) along
with my husband.
I felt very ashamed about being a
vendor.
But that way I could earn a living
and afford the rent.
One day at around 7:30 or 8, my
husband and I went to the victim’s shop.
My husband told him that we had a
bunch of photo frames.
He said “we used them to hold some
sports certificates belonging to me and my wife.”
He added that those frames were
useless at our home
and since we’re tenants, we’re just
keeping them in boxes.
What do you think we can do with
them? He asked.
Then the guy said, ok bring them
here. I’ll display them at the shop
and will sell them for you after taking
off a little percentage as my profit.
(The day after) it was around 6:30
or 6:45, when I heard the doorbell.
I was extremely yearning for drugs,
but I had none at home at the moment.
I used to take crystal meth.
I started being addicted to meth
since 1997.
Back then I had to pay 40 thousand
tomans per centigram. Still, I did buy and take it.
That day I was terribly tense
(without drugs).
I heard the bell ring and got up
from the bed with difficulty.
I picked up the door opener and
answered it.
The guy claimed to be the “gas
controller”.
I didn’t open the door and just
dropped it.
But he buzzed again. This time he
said this is Nasser and
“I’m here for the photo frames.”
He was like “I just met your husband
on his way out of home.”
So, I believed him, because my
husband had just left.
He said “your husband asked me to
come over and take the frames with me.”
Then he asked for some water.
He followed me as I went to the
kitchen. I didn’t realize that first.
But in the kitchen, when I offered
him the glass,
I sensed that he had a dirty intention.
He touched my shoulders and that
scared me a lot.
I turned back and told him “excuse
me Nasser, what are you doing in the kitchen?”
Then he grabbed the glass and put it
aside on the table.
He was like “I don’t want water, I just
want you.”
But I said, come on, I always
treated you like a brother.
He replied: oh forget about the
brother thing and stuff. I know you need money.
I couldn’t overcome him. So, I
started begging him and fell on my knees.
He twisted my hair in his one hand.
His right hand was free. He held the
cash in it and offered 200 thousand tomans,
saying this is the payment for the
favor you’re doing me.
He proposed to do this 2, 3 times a
week, saying no one would find out.
He said he knew I needed the money.
But I went on begging him, kneeled
down on him.
I was grabbing his left leg, but then
he hit me in the chest with his right leg
and threw me on the kitchen floor.
He said he won’t be listening and
that I had to do this for him.
Should I talk about the undressing
as well?
He pulled down his pants to his
knees.
He grabbed my hair and rested my
neck on his chest, asking me to do it.
Writing:
“This woman has been in prison for 4
years now.
She’d already been sexually abused
and harassed several times in her childhood.
Even as a married woman, she’s been
still under pressure by certain people to sleep with them.”
37-20:
I urged him to put his clothes back
on. But (after he rejected that),
I said ok, I’ll act as you wish, but
then let me do the undressing for you.
I opened my scarf and folded his
eyes with it.
I said this is because I feel shy,
to look you in the eyes (while doing it).
Then he lied on the kitchen floor.
I had to make the decision at that
moment.
Shall I go on?
He thought I was ready for doing it.
He was drunk and the smell of the
alcohol was sickening me,
it made me hate him so much.
At the moment, I wouldn’t care about
my kid, my family, my husband, not even myself.
All I wanted to do was to save
myself (from being raped), to prevent it.
As I grabbed the knife’s handle, I
felt hugely strong and spirited.
Should I explain the details of the
murder too? I can’t.
About the way I murdered him,
perhaps other people would have not done it that way,
maybe they would have hit him in
somewhere else (less vital parts of his body).
But the only thing I could see was
the knife.
He was so drunk and numb, that he
didn’t even feel the first stab.
He removed the scarf from his eyes.
But his body was too numb to feel
that I had hit him.
As he started to get up, half way
there, with one hand on his eyes,
he was shocked. I stabbed him
another blow in the belly.
He got up as his blood was horribly splashing
on me.
He hardly stood up, he couldn’t hold
firm.
Then I screamed “hey I warned you
and urged you not to do this!”
I gave him another blow, which hit
him here in the elbow.
He was just trembling before my
eyes.
And I only watched that in
disbelief.
In less than a minute maybe, he
collapsed on his right side.
And there were only a few horrible
shakes of his body.
And then he stopped, still and motionless.
(Then I called my husband) and told
him “listen Asghar, I just killed Nasser!”
He was like “what are you talking
about? You’re too weak to kill a man, are you kidding me?!
Maybe that’s the impact of taking too
much mess again huh?”
“For God’s sake, just get home right
now”, I replied.
He asked me to call Saeed for help until
he arrives home.
Saeed was our neighbor, the guy who
sold me drugs.
Saeed had a crush on me and my
husband was aware about that.
We lifted the body and they put it
inside a TV paper box.
It was like frozen and dried. It was
the first time I was facing a dead body,
it was the first time I’d committed
murder.
The body was cold and dry when they
were tying him up.
We wrapped the box with wide tapes
real tight.
Then we put it on the trunk of the
victim’s own car.
We drove it to the Qom road.
We sprayed two 4-liter gallons of
gas over the box and set it on fire.
He waited until the flames went
large enough.
Then he quickly got back on the car.
I still wanna survive to have the
chance to take my revenge on a few other abusers.
Later, Saeed committed suicide, that
made me feel better in a way,
another one (of my abuser) was gone.
Therefore, I was a bit happy.
But my husband was trying to use the
case, taking advantage of the situation.
He forced me to work and earn a
living.
I used to go to work and when I came
back I would find him on the bed with the landlord’s daughter.
Every time I caught him, he would
promise not to do that again,
claiming that I was the one he
loved.
He even swore to the Quran, saying
it was the last time he betrayed me.
But he never understood me.
After one week, I saw him with the
landlord’s daughter again.
Later he brought a man to our place,
a tall dark guy.
He said the guy would be my new
colleague.
He said “so you don’t have to do vendor
stuff anymore. The guy will teach you the new job.”
Initially, we used to sell clothes
and suitcases.
Later, I realized that he transferred
drugs in the suitcases and sold them.
Now, I had turned into a
professional drug dealer.
Meanwhile, one night I retold the
entire murder story for the new guy.
So, he started taking advantage of
me by extortion.
He grabbed and confiscated whatever
I had.
Even if I forget the other abusers,
I’ll definitely hunt down that guy,
because he’s the one who ruined my
life.
All the blackmail and stuff…He took
my kid away from me.
I gave away everything to him…All my
childhood memories.
And ultimately, he was the one who
reported on me.
The murder took place in 2007 but
wasn’t disclosed until 2011.
I begged (my husband) to bring my
kids here for a visit.
I said I have received the death
penalty, let me see them once more.
He said they have been told that
you’re dead.
They will be devastated if they find
their mom is waiting at the gallows.
My mother learned that I had
committed murder
but she never asked me why I did it,
never tied find out what the hell I did.
(Before the murder) I begged my
mother to let me in her home
and help me leave the jerk (my
husband).
She said she couldn’t do that.
I said mom, please, I’m ready to do
anything for you and act based on your will.
Please, just let me back in my
family home.
Hello my dear mom, I miss your nice
voice, your beautiful eyes.
I wish I could hear your voice only
once more.
I miss the days of childhood when
you hugged me and touched my hair.
Mommy, for God’s sake, please pick
up the phone.
47-41:
(Prayer call)
Inmates reciting prayer:
“O’ Allah send blessings on Muhammad and the progeny of Muhammad!”
Prayer leader: Another prayer for
your release:
“O’ Allah send blessings on Muhammad and the progeny of Muhammad!”
Prayer leader: Another prayer for our , wishing them the path of righteousness:
“O’ Allah send blessings on Muhammad and the progeny of Muhammad!”
Warning from the pager:
“Ladies, attention please. Those who
do their hair boyish styles,
both the person with such hairstyle
and the one who did for her
will be summoned by the disciplinary
committee.
That will be considered a violation
of the jail’s domestic rules.
So, ladies you’re required to observe
the regulations and refrain from doing so.”
50-18
Door No. 4
I was born in 1983. My mother is a
religious panegyrist.
I mean I grew up in a religious
family,
but I turned out to be the only
rubbish one among them!
I was 13 when I took drugs for the
first time.
My mother placed the drugs on the
police chief’s table to report on me.
But she thought by doing so, they’d
just let go of me with a simple warning.
She never knew that this way I may
end up in a correctional institution or prison.
Still, since I was too young, the
judge had mercy on me.
Back then, I used to take opium and
weed only.
He threw the drug into the dust bin.
He said my sentence was 22 days and
a bunch of lashes.
And that was just the beginning of how
I ended up in a place I should have never entered.
They sent me to the teens’ correctional
institution.
There, I broke the windows and I’m
still doing such vandalism in here too.
My arms are filled with scars of self-injury
(attempted suicide).
Back in the correctional center,
they said I was old enough,
that is 18, to be transferred to a
regular prison.
A prison is a place where you develop
bonds with people you call friends
after sharing with them past pains
and getting things off your hearts.
I felt like I was the man and the
others were the women.
I mean even among a gang of boys,
I’d feel comfortable.
So, anyone who dared to act rude,
would get beaten up.
Frist, they sent all the thugs into
one big hall.
They said that was our ward.
My fellow inmate was with me then. I
mean the lady who died.
From now on, I’m telling you how her
murder took place.
Can I go on?
-Oh yes.
53-06
Imagine this was the first room
where we were all sleeping.
She had already started being unruly
and teasing us on the dinner table.
She grabbed the other inmate’s neck
so real tight that her face went black.
Then she kicked me while I was
asleep, asking me to move aside.
She stood like this and asked the
underdog person to step back.
More, a bit more, a little more, she
said.
And the poor girl stepped backwards.
Then she grabbed this coffee mug and
threw it right at her head.
The huge blow on this side of her
head immediately removed her hair
and almost revealed her skull.
From now, I intervened, and led the
beaten girl to the nearby room, it was like here.
Then I fell onto the attacker like professional
hardcore wrestlers,
put her on the ground and slammed her
with my elbow like this.
Then pressed her back and broke a
hell of bones in her.
I was quite drowsy. She’d push me
and I fell backward like this.
I would fall off and then would come
onto her again.
I said Hanieh, forget about
fighting, let go of this, come on.
She was like “no, this is just the
beginning.”
54-34:
Second woman:
She (the murdered inmate) was a
bully.
She’d beat up everyone.
She’d punch you in the mouth or nose
and the blood was everyone.
I said what else do we wanna do?
She said “go get something good
enough.” Like what, I asked.
She said “grab something like a shawl
not a scarf.”
I went crazy for a moment and totally
lost temper.
So I got up and grabbed a shawl from
her suitcase.
I thought the shawl was loose and would
easily get broken.
It was reticular. I was expecting it
to go loose after a second.
But it didn’t. I gave her the shawl
and she pulled it like a belt to test it this way.
Then she laid the victim on the
ground in the other room, like here.
She tied the shawl around her neck.
Now, she grabbed the bottom of the
shawl this way and started pulling it,
while the other girl pulled the
other end.
Now, she jumped on her belly once
again.
And then asked the other inmate to
change roles.
I wouldn’t give in to bullying
behavior.
Again, she kept pulling the shawl,
with her feet on her body like this,
while Hedieh
pulled it from the other side and they didn’t stop doing that.
I left one end of the shawl on the
floor and grabbed the other in my hand and started pulling.
(The murder) took me less than 5
minutes.
Now, she removed the shawl from her
head. Then she held her against the door.
The two now started hitting her back
with a piece of glass.
Then I went forward and stopped in
front of them.
I was their friend, still they
didn’t spare me, they hit me too.
I still have the bruise on my back.
So, they continued hitting her back
with the broken glass big time, filled it with deep scars.
I mean there was no intact spot on
her back.
Then she grabbed her again and threw
her on the floor.
I didn’t even touch the victim. Still,
I claimed responsibility.
-Then why did you take responsibility
for something which you say your friend did?
Because she was my friend.
Writing:
“These two women share a pretty similar
life since their adolescence.
They’ve both spent about two thirds
of their lifetime in imprisonment:
Correctional institutions, prisons,
murder in jail…etc…
57-22:
She gave me a chador and asked me to
hang it. So that when the guards come for name checking in the morning,
we’ll tell them that he victim committed suicide with that.
And that there was no murder.
57-36:
She twisted the shawl around her
hand then pulled up one leg.
Then twisted it around the leg too
and held it with one hand,
and now started stretching the shawl
again.
The victim begged her, please put an
end to it, she said.
-What did she mean by that?
She meant kill me and relieve me.
Now, I came again to kick her but I
realized that the victim was already dead.
She’d wetted her pants and she was
finished off.
Actually, my friend killed her
alone.
Then I started calling the guards
“hey sisters, come on, we have a dead
body here.”
But the guards in the previous shift
had told their colleagues
that whenever these girls call for
help and claim that there’s a body or a suicidal person, they are lying.
They’d told them that the inmates do
this in order to bring the guards inside
and ask for some bread and stuff,
because they suddenly crave for such things.
The guard passed by like this.
I told her: come on, someone has
died here and stuff like that.
As you know a dead body always turns
quite heavier than normal.
I tried to pull her up using my
chador.
But she fell off with her head
smashing on the ground,
and the blood covering the entire
place.
Now, she gave the other girl a
handkerchief and ordered her to clean up the blood.
So, the poor girl started cleaning
up the mess.
Now we had to deal with a corpse.
In the morning, when they came for
the name calling,
the guards asked us to get out and
line up in the hall.
I said, I’ve been calling for help
since last night about the dead body
of a suicidal inmate, why didn’t you
ever come in?
She was like: “ok, show me the body
and prove your lie!”
Then I got back in, pulled the body
from inside the bathroom,
like this and brought it to the main
door.
And I just dropped her leg on the
ground.
It was like detached from her body,
because 74 bones of her 124 ones
were already fractured.
As I dropped the leg, the guard
suddenly fainted in shock, just like this.
So I killed her.
Excuse me, can I have some water?
-Yes, please.
There was 9 of us. They all
committed suicide. She and I were the only ones left.
I had already received my release verdict
on that very night.
They recalled me for the release
process.
But before that I had to go through
the 35 lashes (which was part of my sentence).
I went to the lashing room. I saw
two guys over there, told one of them,
hey bro, can I get lashed before
you, I’m in a hurry.
Actually, I was in a hurry to escape
possible accusations of the murder.
He turned back, I told him: my
father is already waiting for me outside.
He went like this: “how come your
family is more important than mine. My brother is waiting for me at the door
too.
No, I’ll get the lashes first and
then it will be your turn.”
I said, fine by me, I’ll show you
how it works.
Now, I went to the other one. I just
needed ten minutes to get out.
I said hey pal, you do me the favor.
Let me get my lashes. It’s doesn’t take any time,
I received it for some robbery. Then
I’ll be gone for good.
He was like this: nope! No way!
So, I said, ok, there’s no way
anymore. I’ll have to wait.
After I was done with the 35 lashes,
I left the room to get into the car which would take me to the door.
I said, let’s go driver.
He said no, I have to wait, two
people missed the cab. I have to wait for them.
The two got in and each sat by my
one side.
We went to the main entry.
The guy asked my name. Maryam, I
replied.
Father’s name: I said Mohammad.
He was about to ask my ID number. I
could see the door and could wave for outsiders.
The guy got back into the office and
returned to me saying
“oh take
this dirty inborn murderer into the jail.”
You were going to escape the law? He
asked.
I said oh come on, what are you
talking about gentleman?
I was like I never escape the law
sir!
She got into a fight with them in
the court.
-What do you mean? What did she do?
She entered a fight with the
victim’s children.
We went to the court along with 13
soldiers.
Her daughter was like 13 years old.
She came forward and asked the
guards: “can I talk to this woman for a minute?”
The girl said I want my mom back.
I told her, honey, I swear I didn’t
kill your mother.
At the opening of the trial, which
was held 8 years after captivity, I cursed and insulted the judge.
Why don’t you just determine our
fate? I complained.
Just hit us with a death penalty or
something and stop extending our temporary detention.
He was quick to respond: so you
really want to receive the death penalty?
I said yes, I committed the crime
and ok, just issue the execution ruling right now.
I was like if you’re serious enough,
give me the death penalty now.
He did so, and interestingly, the advisors
down there, told me,
by pushing me like this, come on,
hey, don’t sign it!
We both received the death penalty.
After that I tried suicide a couple
of times.
I cut my hand’s vein and kept it
inside a bucket of cold water.
Right here.
I put it inside the bucket. Then I
covered myself with a blanket, waiting to die.
I lost a huge hell of blood.
The blood had filled and even
spilled over the bucket.
It was a small bucket, this size.
I have no hope in my life. I’ve had
tough times.
My brother died, my father died, two
of my uncles died, my grandparents died, my 14-year-old brother died.
All the pains left a negative impact
on me.
Since I’m such a nasty inmate here,
they always punish me by banning visitations, or keeping me in the solitary.
I mean last year, I spent only a few
months in the normal wards.
I was sent to correctional
institution in 1996 and then put in jail in 2004.
The killing took place in 2004.
The confinement cell is just a bed.
It looks like a grave.
In a way, in there you face the
gallows like a thousand times a day.
The scene is like this: here’s the
water bottle.
It’s only as big as this: from that
point to here.
All I do there is drink water like
this. I even spent the New Year ’s Eve alone in there.
I have a copy of Quran there.
They never give you a chador (to
prevent suicide).
So I do prayers on the floor.
Unfortunately, when you say prayers
other inmates say “(it’s not sincere because)
you’re begging God for a longer life
only.
But I don’t listen to them. Once I
told them…(inaudible)
1-6-30:
It was a few months ago, when I
managed to escape and hide in the nearby cane field.
It was around 7 in the evening. I
sat down in the field like this.
Then the prison guards raided the
place.
They’d found out that I was absent.
I hid and camouflaged by lying down.
Then the soldiers were walking like
this.
They were trampling the ground so
that to touch me and hear me cry.
But they realized it just didn’t work.
So, they set the field on fire.
But actually it was in my interest;
they were lightening the way for me and I could run away.
I always like people to praise me.
-What do you mean?
I mean, I like people to say good
stuff about me.
Everyone likes to be raised by their
parents, to live a safe happy life.
I really miss my mother’s arms. I
really miss my father.
My father was executed over drugs.
I was an 8-month-old baby back then.
If the plaintiffs pardon me, and set
me free from here, yeah sure, I can change into another person.
When I’m possibly released from
here, I have to be able to afford my life.
I need to earn a living in the
outside world.
I’d like then to go to work.
My mother is working already…
And then…
(When I’m out) I’ll have to go to a
medical center first, because I’m not fine at all.
When I’m alone, I keep reviewing all
my past.
Now, I have nothing to lose.
Writings:
“This woman was released after a
benefactor paid the legal compensation to her plaintiff.”
“This woman was sent to the gallows
once, but the verdict wasn’t implemented…She’s still awaiting execution in
jail.”
“This woman is still treating inmates
with bullying and abusive behavior.”
“This woman is still treating inmates
with bullying and abusive behavior.”
“This woman was pardoned by her
husband.”
1-12:
The last door:
1-12-30
-Excuse me where are you going to?
Sorry?
-Where are you headed?
I’m freed.
-Sorry?
I’m released.
-How long were you jailed here?
Around like 4, 5 months.
-And why? What were you convicted
of?
My husband had given me stolen
clothes. I didn’t know they were stolen stuff.
Later, I went out of home and a
neighbor caught me and reclaimed the clothes.
-Then?
So she sued me. That was all.
-What was the original verdict?
The original one was a 6-month
sentence and 10 lashes, that was it.
I gave birth to my baby inside this
prison.
But I had to hand him to the state
nursery, because I couldn’t raise him here.
He was too young, I only saw him in
hospital, he was this tiny size.
-You miss him?
Pretty much. I really miss him big
time. I miss him a lot.
-Now, where should you go to take
him back?
I have to go to my mom’s first.
Then we’ll get the official permit
to go take him back from the nursery.
-What was prison like?
Not too bad, I mean for homeless
people, for people who commit crimes.
They come here and are taught a
lesson. It’s good for those people.
But not for me, I was innocent, I
hadn’t done anything wrong.
This was too much for me. It was
unfair, because I was innocent.
Now, how does freedom feel?
I’m so happy right now. I can’t
believe I’m free.
These are the stolen stuff… the sneakers
and…
These were the things my husband had
stolen and given me, while I had no idea they were stolen.
-Who did he steal them from?
From the neighbor next door.
I was going to my mom’s to borrow
some money from her.
On my way, the neighbor caught me
and decided to sue me.
I was pregnant. I told her how a
pregnant woman could possibly commit theft?
I’m extremely happy.
-You’re finished with the paperwork
and leaving now, right?
Yeah.
-Should I rest assured?
Yes.
-What are you going to do once you are
out there?
Right now, I’ll go to my mom’s. I’ll
see her…
Hello? No, listen, you don’t have to
come here, I’ll come over on my own,
just give me the address.
No, I was just released. I’m still
there, leaving prison right now.
What? Give me the address, I’ll come
to Afsariyeh.
I’ll call you when I’m there, ok?
Anything else?
Let’s go.
Guard:
Did you get her fingerprint?
Here please.
-Is your mom waiting for you?
Yeah, I just called her.
-How about your husband?
-I won’t go to him now, I’ll see my
mom first, that’s more urgent for me. I’ll go to my husband’s later.
Oh yeah, now I can leave this thing.
-Have you got cash?
They normally give us some upon
release.
-Like how much?
2, 3 thousand tomans, so that we can
get home.
-So, 2, 3 thousand tomans to help
you get home, right?
Yes.
Then what will you do next without
money?
Sorry?
-What are you going to do next?
It’s easy, I’ll get a cab to my
mom’s, she’ll pay the guy on the spot, as simple as that.
-Where’s your mom’s place?
Pardon?
-Where’s she located?
Afsariyeh.
-Can I ask you a question?
And my husband’s is in Sarcheshmeh.
-You’ve got a disease, right?
Yes.
-What’s your disease?
I got AIDS.
-How long has it been with you?
I don’t know, I found out in the
jail.
-My cab is ready.
Writing:
“In me there is a season without a
name.
Is it that the mirrors are defected
or is it that I no longer look like myself?
In me there is a woman without a
name…”