The month of Ramadhan in memories of freed POWs from Isfahan

Suhoor and watching the sky

Maryam Asadi Jafari
Translated by M. B. Khoshnevisan

2016-6-26


Note: Reading the memoirs and narrations of the freed POWs from the years of being away from home, the bitterness of toleration of the tortures and persecution of Iraqi Ba’th forces and the sweetness of brotherhoods and the innovations originated from restriction are tasted by the audience but the memoirs related to the holy month of Ramadhan in captivity like fasting without eating suhoor (an Islamic term referring to the meal consumed early in the morning by Muslims before fasting) and toleration of thirst until hours after evening Azan (call for prayer) is not understandable for each of us who have not experienced those days. The following memoirs –published for the first time- have been selected among the narrations of the freed POWs from Isfahan which we in advance thank Mr. Manouchehr Shah Hosseini the Head of Payam Azadegan Cultural Institute of Isfahan Province for presenting these memoirs to Oral History website.

 

God’s look (a memory from Salam Amiri Fard; Mosul 2 Concentration Camp)

I complained of Iraqi soldiers to Red Crescent officials. I said that they were persecuting the guys, torturing us on a regular basis, did not give us enough food and the hygiene facilities were zero. On the whole, I told the Red Crescent officials whatever I knew. I thought it could help us change the situation but this did not happen. 

Now, the Red Crescent officials had left and I had stayed alone. They dragged me into the door of a solitary confinement cell. The cell was a room with the length and width of 1.5 in 2.5 meters. They started beating me so much that I did not feel anything anymore. Then they threw me into the cell. I did not recognize the time; I did not know whether it was the day or night. I was fasting that day and had been beaten so much. I was very thirsty. I had not experienced the thirst this much until that day.

My body had become cold. I dragged myself to the wall and leaned against the wall. Then I put my slippers under my feet, lifted my head to the sky and said, “Oh God, you gave me the ability to tolerate the torture; do not test me with thirst.”

Then the sound of the door’s cell came and an Iraqi soldier came in. Certainly they had come to beat me. They did not open the door’s cell except for beating at night.  I again lifted my head and said, “Oh God I said I need water not beating.”

Two soldiers took my armpit, dragging me to the middle of the camp. An Iraqi officer insulted and told me, “This should not be repeated again, go the sanatorium.”

It was unbelievable. I had not seen until that time that anyone was released from solitary confinement cell at night. It was 10 PM and the guys had eaten dinner. I just reached myself to the water, and God was watching me.

 

Suhoor (a memory from Seyed Abbas Hosseini, Mosul 3 Concentration Camp)

The loudspeaker announced, “Be ready”.  They hit hard behind the door and an Iraqi soldier shouted “be ready”, and the one whose turn it was, stood behind the door and took the food’s dish in order to jump out to take suhoor when the door was opened.

That night, it was the turn of one of the guys who was very sleepy. We told him, “If you are sleep we’ll take the food.” While he was trying to keep his eyes open, he said hoarsely, “No I want to see the stars.” Then the sound of the door came and a soldier opened the door. He took up the dish immediately and started running. The Iraqi soldier looked at us surprisingly and said, “Where is he going?” then the soldier ran toward him and slapped him in the face and said, “Where are you going.”
*I want to take food.
*Where is your dish?

He, who had just roused by the soldier’s slap, took a look at what it was in his hands and started laughing. He had been so panicked who had taken a pillow instead of the dish.

 

The enjoyment of the sky (a memory from Mohammad Ali Refahat; Mosul Concentration Camp)

It was always daylight inside the sanatorium because the lights were on at night; as if the night had been eliminated. The night sky could only be seen through the window; a little darkness with no star. When you are a captive you like stars more…

When the month of Ramadhan came especially when giving suhoor at nights was prevailed, the sky and stars became the gust of our eyes. You do not how much you enjoy watching the stars just one month in a year!?

14 persons from every sanatorium went out to get food. The kitchen was near but the process of going and returning took some 30 to 40 minutes. We went behind the kitchen’s door and waited. This sweet waiting was filled with the sky and stars. Whenever Harooni was in the group who went for taking suhoor, some 20 minutes were added to time of staying outside.

Mr. Harooni was from a town around Isfahan and was in our snatorium. He was chatting with Iraqis. He knew Arabic a little. He had a good talent in amusing Iraqi soldiers! And he continued the chat as long as he could so that the guys could enjoy more from the night.

We were not allowed to talk together whenever we went out to take suhoor. But whenever Harooni was with us, everybody was talking and nobody complained. We had learned to enjoy from small blessings, lasting enjoyments…

 

The art of cooking (a memory from Abbas Borhani, Mosul 1 Concentration Camp)

How should we look to the objects? Well you answer that as we see them but this is not correct. When you were restricted and had a hard time, then you see and discover the other side of other things. It is impossible to discover the other side of the objects in the midst of haves!

By the way, what is oil tin? It is just a tin that when it was emptied should be thrown away but sometimes this tin can turn into a bucket, dish, spoon and even bakery oven for pastry cooking.

It was up to Isfahanis to hold celebrations and ceremonies. There was no oven, no cream no eggs… but we did not give up! The presence a confectioner like Asghar Akhoundi was a blessing. He prepared facilities for pastry cooking. We took a tin of oil. We had also an oil heater. We cut the tin the size of the mouth of the heater and made two handles with wire for it. We also made two trays and handles for them with barbed wire. We greased the trays and cook patries.

You see what a tin of oil can really do?!  

 

Leili's house (a memory from Gholamreza Roustaee, Mosul Concentration Camp)

It is enough for man to fall in love. The story starts this way that one day it comes to your mind to go to the war front. You go to the front and engage in bullets and fire and were taken as captive by the enemy but you are still a lover and the story goes on!

When religion was the main word, many conditions and problems were lost and ethnicities, differences and divisions were ignored. It was not just religion. It was the religion which Haj Aboutorabi had inspired the Iraqi camps with new vitality through loving the humanity and free from any idea, and thinking.

The love whose external manifestation was to help other humans and doing public works with full desire and even surpassing others.

The doctor had prohibited five of us to fast and we could not do anything. We thought to wash the dishes of the whole guys during the holy month of Ramadhan. This was so enjoyable that cannot be described.

 

Kholasat al-Ramadhan (a memory from Ali Rabbani: Mosul 2 Concentration Camp)

There was a special spirituality in the camp during the blessed month of Ramadhan. There were a few volumes of the holy Quran in the beginning of the captivity so we had to read it part by part but later when the volumes of the book increased, the guys arranged Quranic programs. There was no special food program for Ramadhan. First, we got the dinner for Iftari (breaking fast) and wrapped the lunch around a blanket in order to remain warm. Later we talked to the Iraqi officers to give us warm food for suhoor.

The worshipping level of the guys in the holy month of Ramadhan was very high in a way that the attempts by the spies to kill this spirit were useless. Every now and then, they took a number of guys out of the camp for interrogation in order to ruin the spiritual morale of the guys. They were kept behind the camp's gate for some one hour for no reason and when they came back, we asked "Did they say anything? Did you say anything?"

They said, "They kept us under the sun for one hour for no reason, and then they asked us to return." They did this in order to sow discord among us but no avail. 

It was near Eid-al Fitr and we cooked Halwa (a kind of pastry) with bread dough. We also cooked meal with the meats we had saved for several days. We shook hands and kissed and congratulated each other on the morning of Eid-al Fitr.

We spread a tablecloth and everybody sat around it, and then tea, a little Halva and meal, and ….

 

Lawless (a memory from Asghar Rahimi; Ramadieh 10 Concentration Camp)

We did not understand when the night had come and gone. We had to sleep at five PM until the next morning. The missing camp had its own law. In fact it had no law in a way. When the holy month of Ramadhan came, when found out the food program had not changed. We kept the lunch for Iftari. We were not allowed to wake up for suhoor and if the eyes of someone were open, and the Iraqi soldier who was patrolling saw this through the window, said angrily, "Whose eyes are open?" and the story started. They asked the person in charge of the sanatorium to slap the one whose eyes were open.

He couldn't help doing because if he did not, he would be beaten the next day. On the other hand, he slapped a little gently because the Iraqis did so harshly. The whole month of Ramadhan was spent with suhoor. When the TV came, the situation improved a little, because we could stay awake until 11 PM and the TV was right and as long as it was on we had to stay awake and then we could eat suhoor and then sleep.



 
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