SABAH (74)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami
Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

2021-9-7

SABAH (74)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami

Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

Published by Soore Mehr Publishing Co.

Persian Version 2019

Then Ali took us to Sarbandar at aunt Maryam’s place and returned to the front without hesitation. I heard from Nahid, auntie Maryam’s daughter, that there are a few rooms at the mosque allocated to war-stricken families. I went to the mosque and told them about our problem. I said that my husband is injured and cannot move. They gave us the room. Then uncle Hossein brought the children from Boroujerd to Sarbandar.”

I said: “Your situation is not good here either!” My mother said: “Yes, but what can we do? We have no choice. During night we have to light the heater to keep the room warm. We close the door of the room to avoid cold weather. At midnight, the air in the room becomes so heavy that we can’t breathe at all. Your father is worse than all of us and starts coughing.”

I said: “What do children do? Don’t they bother you in that small space?!” She said: “No, they amuse themselves. I am so worried about Ali and you that I do not feel like cooking. Abbas buys everything we need and cooks himself.”

I said: “Isn’t Ferdows here?!” She said: “She is here but mostly she is in mosque and helps with the packaging and distribution of items arriving for the war-stricken families. She is busy.”

My mother had been through lots of difficulties; she was not the same forty three years old healthy woman of before. Before arriving, I intended to stay for two three days and go back but the situation they had, I could not talk about returning. I needed to stay more with them to help them emotionally. I knew that the situation is the same with all war-stricken families. I could now understand the meaning of being homeless. This was really the worst curse.

My father was not feeling well at all. I saw the wounds at his waist and chest. Although the wounds appeared well but he felt breathless with every move he made. When he went to lavatory or did ablution, it took him a few minutes to feel better. The situation with my sisters and brothers was not better than my father and mother. I did not see the beautiful and loud smiles of Mohsen. Mohsen was a happy and laughing child. When we looked at his face and his smile, the sadness flew away from our hearts but now his laughter had become pale and less energetic.

I hugged Mona and combed her hair. Her shirt was new. I said to my mother: “Have they given her a shirt from mosque?” She said: “No, your uncle did a bit shopping for the children in Boroujerd. He has bought it for her. They bring some items from mosque but I do not accept and say that we have everything. Give them to others.”

I said: “Mom how you manage your expenses?” She said: “Your father has some cash. We spend that. Thanks God it is not little and we do not have to ask anybody for money.”

We never saw these days coming. We had lived in a comfortable and convenient life. My father had a good position and earned us a good living and also helped others. The only hard thing about our life was our move from one city to another because of his nature of work. Now we had to squeeze into a six square meter room with no facility.

At night, we slept besides each other tightly. The room was small and me, mother, father, Ferdows, Abbas, Mohsen and Mona had to sleep in there! At midnight I felt something falling on my forehead. I got up terrified and sat. I noticed that a part of the ceiling which was humid had fallen on my face! I could not lie down anymore. I went to a corner, hugged my knees and tried to sleep.

I went nowhere on the first and second days of my arrival. I didn’t even go to mosque. I did not want to be away from my father and mother and children. I had missed them so much that I could not stay away from them.

On the third day I decided to go to the camp and see Zahra. It was not a long way. I went to Sarbandar square and took a taxi. I went inside the camp. Zahra was not home. Da said that she has gone to health chamber. I went there and found her. She became so happy to see me and ask the reason of my visit. I told her about the move of my family to Sarbandar.

Zahra went to the nurse and told her that she has guests from front and has to leave. Then we walked towards their home. I asked her: “Did you tell Da about Ali?” She said: “No I haven’t had the chance to do that.”

I stayed for lunch. In the afternoon I said goodbye to Zahra and Da and the others and went towards Sarbandar.

When I was coming to Sarbandar, one of the members of Abouzar group gave me the address of the family of a martyr called Jafar Mousavi. He asked me to visit his family and see how they live. In the morning when I woke up I decided to pay them a visit.

I found the address. They were living at the edge of a rural road, in a shed made of mud and cane. When I arrived, martyr’s mother also arrived with a pile of woods. His father was home. I introduced myself and sat. They had a miserable situation. I felt so heartbroken. The old woman was breaking the limbers to make fire. She made me tea.

I asked them about their living. They said that they are in hard situation specially from nutrition aspect. They had nobody to go and bring them food. I sat with them for a few minutes and then said goodbye and left. But I was thinking about them all the time. I didn’t know what to do for them.

One two days after visiting Jafar Mousavi family, when I was on my way to the camp to visit Zahra, in the square of Sarbandar, besides a container, I saw a gathered crowd. I went forward to see what is going on; I noticed that they are distributing warm food among war-stricken families. The crowds were fighting for one pot of food.

I felt so bad when I saw this situation. Those people who were living good until a while ago, were fighting for one pot of warm food. I sat on the edge of the sidewalk, opposite side of the crowd and placed my head on my knees. I had headache. As my head was bending down, I heard someone saying: “Sister, sorry sister …”

I looked up and saw a young twenty four, five years old young man standing besides me and addressing me. I said: “Yes?!”

He said: “Do you feel bad?” I said: “No, I am fine.” He said: “Have you come to get food?” I said: “No, I didn’t know that they are distributing food. It was crowded here. I have come to see what is happening.” He said: “Sorry for asking. I am the Representative of martyr foundation and have come for visiting families. I was wondering if I can be of any help.”

This was the first time that I heard the martyr foundation name and said: “do we have martyr foundation? What do they do?” He said: “Yes sister. Their work is to address martyr and injured soldiers’ families.” I said: “this means that if the family of a martyr has any issues, you will deal with it?!” He said: “Yes, sister. This is what we do. But we have just begun our job and not many people know us. We are looking for martyr’s families ourselves.”

For one instance, I remembered the horrifying condition of the camp and the family of martyr Mousavi. I said: “I know two martyr families who live in bad condition; especially one of them. He said: “Give me their names. Maybe they have referred to me or I might have gone to them.”

I said: “I don’t think you know them. One of them is martyr Hosseini family in camp B and the other one family of martyr Mousavi in Sarbandar whose condition is worse. From martyr Hosseini family, the father of the family has been martyred and from martyr Mousavi family, their son Jafar has been martyred.”

I didn’t dare to say the Hosseini family has two martyrs and their son has been martyred. I was afraid that the news of martyrdom of Ali would reach Da sooner than the time that Zahra intends to tell her. Both families were new to him. He said: “I will go to them as soon as possible.” Then he said: “If you know anybody who has been injured in front, please introduce him to us.”

I said: “My father has been hit by quiver in shoulder and waist in Khorramshahr. Although he has been hospitalized in Shiraz hospital for a while, but he is not ok.” He said: “Can you give me your address?” I gave him our address. He promised to come and see my father. Then he said goodbye and left.

I really didn’t think that their foundation would be able to do something soon. The problems were a lot and it was not easy to solve them. War-stricken families, who had lost the bread winner and were residing in Sarbandar, were facing many problems. Many young girls had been left unsupported. Many fathers and old sons of the families were either fighting or had been martyred.

Sometimes we heard that a family had wed their 12, 13 years old girl to a fifty years old man. When we investigated we understood that her family has made that decision to keep their daughter safe in the community and also lessen the number of family members who needed food.

After talking to that young man, I went to Zahra and stayed with her until evening. The next day Elaheh came to our place. When I saw her, I asked: “When you saw Amoo Hejab, how did he react?” She said: “Nothing! First he reprimanded me and talked a lot but then he felt regretful and kissed my face and cried and said that he has been worried for me and only God know how hard it has been.”

I went to Elaheh’s home. Nahid and Pouneh were there. Nahid’s husband was still in America. Elaheh said: “her husband has been calling her and writing letters to her and has asked Nahid to return to America and after graduation they will come to Iran together but Nahid has not accepted and said that I will not return to America until I sort out my family issues.”

Four five days had passed since I had come to Sarbandar that Saleheh came. Two three days before, Shahnaz came with Esmat Janbozorgi and Afsaneh and Parvaneh Ghazi Zadeh. Mother was very happy. We were gathering around again. I met Saleheh after three months. I had missed her a lot. We hugged each other firmly and kissed.

Saleheh had brought two blankets, one heater, a red carpet and some bowls and plates. The army had given them to her. Since they had no connection and commute outside their base, she had found out that my family is in Sarbandar through army forces. Saleheh sat down and told us everything. She said: “We are in Ebika Company. Those members who have families get hourly leave permission and visit their families.”

To be continued …