SABAH (2)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami
Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

2020-3-3

SABAH (2)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami

Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

Published by Soore Mehr Publishing Co.

Persian Version 2019

Chapter one

…I looked out of the window of our house in Koushk building. Masoud Paki[1], in his Basiji uniform, happily and cheerfully had come to the door on a motorcycle. When he saw me, he waved and said: “Hi, sister Sabah! Come quickly, I have come to take you to the rest of the group.”

There were many small and shiny stars under his feet. They were so beautiful that I did not want to take my eyes off them. Cheerful and restless by seeing Masoud and what he said, I started descending the stairs.

I had not reached down the stairs that I heard my sister, Saleheh’s voice on the stairs saying: “Sabah where are you going?” I answered: “I am going to the group”, she said: “no Sabah, don’t go! Don’t you remember, you have exams?! Where are you going?!”, I sighed. I realized that I had a difficult exam.

I got to the door and greeted Masoud. I liked him like a younger brother. The stars I had seen from above, were shining diamonds under Masoud’s feet. I told him in sadness: “I have an exam. You go and hopefully I will join later…”

All of a sudden, I woke up with the sound of the fall of something in the kitchen. I was still confused and did not know where I am. I could hear my heart pounding. My sister, Shahnaz, who was sleeping next to me, jumped from bed. We both ran to the kitchen in frit. My father was lying on the floor with tilted mouth and was not moving. My mother entered the kitchen and started yelling. My sister, Ferdos and her husband who were living in the same building ran towards our apartment after hearing my mother yell and the other neighbors, Ms. Houshmand and her son Mr. Nasrollah, followed them to see what is going on.

Mr. Nasrollah and Mr. Mohammad carried my father’s stiff body to the taxi with difficulty and took him to Imam Khomeini hospital. My older sister, Fouziyeh, and my mom accompanied them. I stayed home with my brothers, Abbas and Mohsen and my younger sister, Mona.

The physician at the emergency room said that my father has had a stroke and his body was paralyzed. It took him 24 hours to be able to move his hands and legs. After two days, he was discharged.

My father was very weak. A couple of months prior to his stroke we figured that he had lung cancer. He had undergone chemotherapy but was not feeling well. We were all emotionally devastated. We suffered while we saw him in pain. My father asked us to call his brother, uncle Nemat to come to Tehran. My uncle lived in Isfahan, Shahin Shar city. We informed him of the situation and he came very quickly along with his wife.

Before their arrival, we also informed my brother, Jasem, who was living in the northern part of the country in Mahmoud Abad. After the attack of Saddam and the siege of Khorramshahr, all relatives had gone to difference cities. My brother Jasem and his family first moved to Bandeghir, a village in Ahwaz, then Shiraz and Isfahan and finally settled in Mahmoud Abad in a special beach dedicated to the war stricken communities.

After arrival of Jasem and my uncle, my father felt emotionally better. After a while, he started talking about the past. He and my uncle and Jasem could not stop talking about the past. This was in autumn of 1989. He started recounting memories, which he had avoided until that day. Until that day, I only knew that his name is Mohammad and has been born in Khorramshahr and his mother died when he was two years old and since his father could not take care of a young child, his aunt agreed to take him in. His aunt lived in “KoutZin” in Basrah in Iraq.

My father recounted the story of his life. As if he knew that he would only live for another month and leave us in the month of “Dey” of that year. He wanted to review his life one more time before his death. This time he wanted to say it out loud for his dear ones to hear. I felt so sorry because time flied, and he passed away.

I had no idea that my father’s life story is so rich both in childhood and adulthood. My father was originally from Minab in Bandar Abbass and had migrated to Khuzestan during adulthood. At that time “Sheikh Khaz’al” was the governor of Khuzestan. As my grandfather was a well-mannered and respected individual, he found a position in Sheikh Khaz’al cabinet. The entire executive tasks such as tax and protection money collection in all cities and provinces under Sheikh Khaz’al’s governance such as Ize and Masjed Soleyman and … were his responsibility. During that period, my grandfather who was a Sunni, chose Shia’ religion and never visited his family. He only knew about their whereabouts through friends and relatives.

My grandfather married a woman named Saleheh and my father was born in 1919 in Khorramshahr. When he was two years old, his mother dies, and he falls into the care of his aunt. His aunt lived in KoutZin in Basreh. Five years later, my grandfather goes to KoutZin and brings back his son who was seven years old at that time. During that time, my grandfather had remarried, and my father had two half-sisters called Bahar and Nejat and one half-brother called Nematollah.

My father, raised by his aunt until the age of seven, could read Quoran very fluently and had managed to read the whole Quoran once. He recounted that at that time, whoever managed to read Quran fully for the first time, his family would bring him new clothes to the school for encouragement. His aunt bought him new clothes and took them to school to congratulate him.

My father became his father’s assistant since very young age. My grandfather was the representative of Sheikh Khaz’al until Reza Shah came to power. Sheikh Khaz’al was among the first who imported cars into the country; cars mostly made of wood. He started to work with cars as a teenager. He learned to speak English and Indian languages very well due to the presence of English and Indian people in Khuzestan. Due to his fluency in the two languages, he learned to work with cars very quickly and his progress was much more than expected in his career and he became one of the best drivers of a road making company called “Armeh”.

He gets married when he was fifteen; a beautiful, white skin and calm women called Farideh who was two years younger than he was. They called her “Feriyeh”. They start their life as a couple at the residence of my grandfather; a house full of rooms.

Another relative of my father was also living in that house. My father used to say that this relative was always drinking alcohol and because of that, he always banned Feriyeh to come out of the room when he was not home. He knew that his stepmother does not like Feriyeh much and might abuse her during his absence.

After a while, Feriyeh becomes pregnant. During the last days of pregnancy, my father leaves on a mission to Ahwaz and does not return to Khorramshahr overnight. Prior to his departure on mission, he notices that the roads are not in good condition, and the speed of the car is low, and he might not be able to return the night, therefore he banns his wife to come out of their room until he has returned. After my father leaves for mission, his stepmother tells Feriyeh to pack her belongings and go to her father’s house for labor. She says that if you stay here, you will be alone during labor.

Feriyeh keeps saying that my husband has banned me from going out of the house, but she keeps insisting and at the end succeeds in sending her to his father’s house in Ahwaz by a boat. Feriyeh cries the whole way to his father’s house and bears a lot of stress and anxiety and goes into labor and my brother Jasem is born on the boat.

When my father returns, he looks for Feriyeh. His stepmother says that she has gone to his father’s house. She never admits that she has forced her to go. My father does not say anything to his stepmother although he sensed something fishy but keeps silent respecting his own father because at that time, the elderly people had a lot of respect. He is afraid to say anything to his stepmother and offend her. My father, who was only 16 years at that time and was filled with pride, says:” if she is gone, she is gone forever. I will not go to return her home”!

Based on the tradition of Arab community in Khuzestan, the first-born son is named Jasem if the father is called Mohammad. This was based on the case of Prophet Mohammad whose first son was named Ghasem. Therefore, Feriyeh calls my brother Jasem.

My father divorces Ferieyh. When Jasem is five years old, Feriyeh sends him to his father accompanied by one of her relatives. At that time, Feriyeh had remarried and had chosen the family name of her spouse, Hosseini, for Jasem and had even an ID issued for him. During that trip, Jasem does not succeed to meet his father and returns to his mother.

After a while, my father goes to Ahwaz to look for his son. He asks everybody around and finally finds Mr. Hosseini’s house. Jasem was working with his uncle at that time although he was only five years old. Feriyeh tells Jasem that your father has come to take you to Khorramshahr and he agrees to go with him saying: “I am working for my uncle here; I will work for my father there”.

My father, who has longed to meet his soon for years, hugs him and takes him to work the next day. Jasem was very much like my father, like an apple cut in half.

The time comes for Jasem to go to military service. He serves in navy and becomes the special driver to the commander of navy Commander Bayandor. His military service coincides with the Second World War and the occupation of Iran by England, Russia and USA. My father used to driver Commander Bayandor to and from Tehran. He recalls:

• Once I was in Tehran and in Dezashib Tajrish district, I noticed that an officer attacked a woman who was wearing hejab and was washing dishes in the stream near her house. I interfered to mediate. I said: “Let her have her hejab …” the officer said: “Mind your own business”. We got into a fight and I hit him so bad. His face started bleeding and fainted in a corner. I ordered one of my soldiers to bring a bag.

We put the officer in a bag, put him in the car and took him to Tajrish police station. The guard officer asked: “What have you brought?” I said: “I am a garbage collector, and this is garbage!”

Since that officer had offended my father who had a navy uniform and was in higher rank than him, the guard officer could not say anything. He kicked the bag himself twice and accompanied my father out of the police station.

During the occupation of Khuzestan, the living and working condition of people turned bad. The English forces were all over Khorramshahr and their corruption was widespread in the city and there was no security. Therefore, my father signs brotherhood vow with four of his friends, Habib, Saber, Taher and Falleh. In this vow, they agree not to let any Russian, English or American enter their neighborhood called “Mamouri” and “Santap” area. Their second vow is to be able to provide food for all the people living in their neighborhood no matter what.

To be continued…