Da (Mother) 101

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

Uncle Hoseyni had gone to Iran from Basra to raise a family when I was a year old. Sometimes he included pictures in the letters he sent to the grandparents. The stylish clothing he and his family wore seemed stunning to me. They weren’t dressed in the dishdashas we wore. Even at that early age I could tell that life in Iran was very different from life in Iraq.

Da (Mother) 100

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

He passed me without waiting for an answer, and, as soon as he took one step away from the sandbags and reached the tracks, he blew up. I was on my knees, and the shock wave flung me to the ground and made my head ring. Now everything I saw and heard seemed like a dream. The sounds I were plain enough:

Da (Mother) 99

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

The three of us prayed, sheltering behind the materiel stacked in the corner. The others also prayed and began to eat bread and tinned fish. They offered some of the tins to us as we sat by the boxes of medical supplies. We politely declined. The commander said, “Eat. You’ll need your strength because you’re coming with us to the front.”

Da (Mother) 98

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

No one spoke along the way, but they signaled to one another to be careful so often it scared me to death. Worried my footsteps on the dry grass and leaves would make too much noise, I tiptoed as I moved with the column. At the head of each alley we reached, the soldiers would signal us to stop while scouts reconnoitered.

Da (Mother) 97

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

Conditions had become so dangerous and the Iraqis had advanced so far there was no longer any need for me to beg to be taken to the front. Our front lines were falling one after another, and more and more of the central parts of the city were becoming battlegrounds. Because it was too hard to transport the wounded by car, aid workers who could ...

Da (Mother) 96

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

I was in a strange mood these days. I was lost to myself. Everywhere I went, whatever I was doing, father and Ali were always with me. More often than not it was Ali’s face that appeared before me. I didn’t know why. Maybe being more recent, the searing pain of his death was more vivid to me. I was beside myself missing him.

Da (Mother) 95

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

After father’s death, working at Jannatabad was no longer a priority. The number of corpses had decreased, and to me keeping the living alive was more important. Nevertheless, whenever I did stop by and there was a body to attend to, I would do what was necessary. The searing pain caused by the death of father and Ali had made it more difficult to tolerate the work.

Da (Mother) 94

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

Hoseyn Eidi, now standing behind me, confirmed what I was telling the old man and tried himself to win the man over. We finally persuaded him to go. Although convinced we were right, the old man still had a hard time coming to grips with leaving his home. He lingered in the doorway, which was made of wooden beams and covered by sheets of metal ...

Da (Mother) 93

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

Most of the city’s inhabitants had been evacuated, but there were still some holdouts. The boys in their travels would come back, reporting that, unlike most other areas in the city, in the Arab neighborhood of Mowlavi many people had remained behind. They said folks in the neighborhood stayed because they thought the Iraqis wouldn’t ...

Da (Mother) 92

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

One afternoon seven or eight of us left the clinic and headed for the front lines. Dr. Sa’adat was with us. We walked to the end of the Mowlavi neighborhood and ran into defense forces scattered here and there in the alleyways. A little farther away near Sentab, the fighting got heavier. Our forces would fire from one section, then run to another position and fire from there.
1
...
 

Boycott

A memory from Asadollah Tajrishi
At the beginning of my arrival in Evin Prison, I was taken to solitary confinement as always and after a few days, I was transferred to the public cell. The public cells had been located in two floors. The arrangement of these cells in the cells of 1355 and 1356 was such that on the lower floor, there was a ward ...
Part of memoirs of Mamoosta Molla Qader Qaderi, Paveh’s Friday Prayer Leader

The trip of Ahmad Moftizadeh & Mamoosta Sheikh Jalal Hosseini to Paveh

After the victory of the Islamic revolution, the people of Oramanat area and the Sunni people of Kermanshah Province, unlike most cities in northern Kurdistan were alongside the Islamic Republic system ...

“Internal Reaction” published

Apart from the student activities and massive demonstrations in the years 1352 to 1354 (1973-1975), another part of my activities was the books I was writing myself. Of course, before they turned into books, I used to lend them in the form of nameless pamphlets in university libraries. Many harmful writings or books were taken to the mountains or transferred to other universities, sometimes even abroad.

Loss of Memory in Pahlavi Prisons

In total, [I was in prison] about 6 years in two arrests. For the first time after several years, a soldier arranged my escape. I do not know why! Maybe he was one of the influential elements of Islamic groups. They took me to the hospital for the treatment of my hand, which was broken due to the callousness of an officer.