New Letter by Shabnam Madadzadeh: Gharchak Prison

PERSIAN2ENGLISH – Last week, Shabnam Madadzadeh, student activist, wrote a letter from prison to shed light on the transfer of two female political prisoners from Evin prison to Gharchak prison. Scroll down for an English translation of the letter.

SHABNAM’S LETTER: GHARCHAK PRISON

It is not a question of a single flower withering; they have embarked on the desertification of the entire forest

To all friends who are familiar with this pain…For those whose hearts beat for humans and humanity…For the values that transcend geographical borders.

I speak to you as a witness of the horrific days in a place where Death hangs its heavy cloak on the wall, and breathing is made difficult– a place, with dark silos and high ceilings, lacking windows and natural light. Each silo contained 200 people. The density and the noise would frustrate the prisoners and wreck their nerves. There were subsequent fights and sad news. I saw it all with my own eyes. With my own eyes I witnessed the slaughterhouse of humans and humanity.

I speak as a witness of ambiguous, agitated, and deadly moments when the eyes of prisoners were filled with anger. The guards would hit the prisoners with batons to calm the situation. I speak as a witness of the fights we had over food and bread in a hall that was called the “cafeteria (eatery)”. The curtains and the decorations we set up [in our imaginations] did not succeed to hide the horror of the situation. The distributed food portions were so scarce that prisoners would go around and collect leftovers from other plates [until] fights broke out over the leftovers! Food trays and chairs would go flying, covering the floor with food and causing people to slip and fall. The prisoners changed the name of the cafeteria from eatery to “beatery”.

I speak as a witness. I witnessed many attempts [by Iranian authorities] to paint a contrary picture of our circumstances to family members who came for visits. The hallway we walked through to reach the visitation hall was in ruins, yet on the other side of the wall they had planted flowers and flowerbeds (I saw this the day I was transferred back to Evin prison). The families are misled to take comfort in some flowers planted outside the wall while their own flowers (their children) withered away inside the prison.

The purpose of the visit by Iran’s Attorney General in Gharchak Prison on the same day we were transferred back to Evin prison was to deny all the reports by foreign news agencies and sites [on the conditions of Gharchak]. The purpose of his visit was a solid testament to the horrific conditions of this place! There must have been something going on [in the prison], or else why the need for denial?

Blood stains on the floor tiles of the hallway of the eatery were visible before they cleaned it up. In the days following our transfer back to Evin prison, we heard from the agents and guards who commuted the prisoners that Gharchak prison was simply a hell. The guards admitted that, [so] what was there to deny?

I speak as a witness of a desert where there is no sign of habitation– no plant could grow. Since our transfer to Gharchak prison, we became vocal about the fact that the conditions are inhumane, not only for us but for all women held there. It is a death camp, not a prison. It is a place for gradual death. The sound of human dignity being crushed still rings in my ears.

A year and a half later, on July 11, 2012, [two of my prison mates] Kobra Banazadeh AmirKhizi, 60, and Sadigheh Moradi were illegally transferred back to exile in Gharchak. Their transfer made me feel I am once again among that crowd, enduring those conditions. My heart aches and my hands are tied. Even [with my young age] and physical health, the conditions in Gharchak were deadly, let alone for for these two ailing women.

The [prison] walls are getting taller and the bars are closing in. I can feel the heat of my breath on my face. I can’t express the feeling. Believe me, I can’t paint a picture or objectify this inexpressible feeling.

I speak again as a witness; as someone who met [Kobra] Banazadeh more than two years ago in Gohardasht prison [I.e. Rajai Shahr prison] and has known Sedigheh Moradi in Evin prison for more than eight months. During our time in this purgatory, I have witnessed the deterioration of their health. Ms. Banzadeh had an unsuccessful eye surgery that resulted in the loss of her eye sight. [She suffers from] neck and back arthritis and osteoporosis. Just two weeks ago she was hospitalized in Modarres hospital for a Coronary Angiography. And, on Wednesday, instead of being transferred to Gharchak, she was supposed to go to the hospital for an Echocardiogram. Sedigheh Moradi [suffers from] back spasm, neck and spine arthritis and heart disease.

For me, someone who has stepped in the path of freedom and has suffered many wounds along this oppression-ridden way, exile, transfers, and bans have become a part of my life. However, I believe that one has to pass over the hard and heavy river bed and remove any obstacles [along the way] by roaring and beating until we reach the sea. I believe we have to stop dictatorships. I believe we must stand up and resist.

What I witnessed on Wednesday [when they were transferred back to Gharchak] was flagrant ruthlessness. The [authorities] are not even satisfied with the [judicial] sentences they have unfairly issued in show trials held in the Revolutionary Courts. They are able to trample on the initial rulings and issue new ones. On Wednesday it became apparent to me that even if a prisoner scheduled to be released was faced with the death penalty instead, there is nothing that we could do about it.

My grief-stricken friends, the beginning of my letter had no introduction because my pen and my mind were unable to wait for words to be arranged and re-arranged. I extend my tied hands to you once again so that you can be, like before, my hands and tear down the veils and disclose this puppetry: a false pretense of respect for women!

I voice the pains and sufferings once again so that you can hear them and be the mountain that echoes them. In a place where it is hard to breathe, let out the scream of wrath from your throat full of breath. I ask all human rights associations and all those who are concerned for humanity to do all they can to return these ailing women from [Gharchak prison], the den of darkness.

TRANSLATION: SIAVOSH JALILI, PERSIAN2ENGLISH
BY: SHABNAM MADADZADEH