Memoirs of Marzieh Hadidchi (Part 16)

2017-11-7

Memoirs of Marzieh Hadidchi (Dabbagh)

Edited by: Mohsen Kazemi

Tehran, Sooreh Mehr Publications Company

‎2002 (Persian Version)‎

Translated by: Zahra Hosseinian

At 7 am, they came and wrapped Rezvaneh’s lifeless body up in a blanket. The thought of her death made me to blow up, as if a mountain was in front of me it would collapse. I grabbed everything and knocked on the door, and yelled: "Take me too! I want to be with my kid! What did you do with her, killers! Criminals!! And..." Meanwhile, I heard a beautiful recitation of the Qur'an: "seek (Allah's) help with patient perseverance and prayer: It is indeed hard, except to those who are humble"^[1]. It was as if cold water was poured over these flames. The Qur'an was recited so beautiful that it seemed to me that God addressed me and asked me to be patient and to perform prayer. I sat down on the ground and just recovered my sense and found out what happened from last night. It was the voice of Ayatollah Rabbani Shirazi^[2], which consoled me very plaintive. Like me, he also had not slept last night; and was busy praying and reciting Quran until dawn; but his voice lost among all those screams and yells, and I have not heard his voice until this moment. The late Rabbani Shirazi’s cell was near mine and he had seen everything I had. And also, he had heard all screams of me and Rezvaneh. I was sure that he was the only one who heard our cries and cried his heart out because of this crime. The presence of this revered clergyman in that barren desert was like water for my dried roots. I came to life, got up, reached my hands toward the sky, and entrusted everything to the hands of Almighty God and asked Him to save my daughter's life.

In fact, nothing could help me to recover my senses and to calm down more than that verse. I didn’t hear anything about Rezvaneh, and I thrashed about in the sea of ​​fear and hope, and the movement of clock-hands increased my worries. About ten days later, the miracle I expected was occurred suddenly; they brought back Rezvaneh, but she was faded, withered, and wounded. Her wrists were severely injured and bloody. I inquired. It turned out that she had been taken to the police hospital, as she was in coma that night. In hospital her hands had been chained to the bed, and an armed soldier watched out for her. Her hands were unchained only once in a day for going to the bathroom.

I hugged my fourteen-years-old daughter and comforted her. I asked her about that lost night in the time. Tears were in her eyes, there was a lump in her throat, she fell into my arms and sobbed loudly. On that ill-fated night a few mercenary malicious SAVAK agents, like a wild fierce beast, took her scarf, circled her, and began to harass and torment...!

For a girl, like Rezvaneh, who had always gone to school with a black chador and veil, this brutal torture and dirty attempt was very painful and agonizing. Still, thinking of those moments, when the dirty hands of those criminals had touched my daughter's body and made her to faint, is painful and shocking to me, and I ask God to punish those dirty beasts.

To be continued…