Da (Mother) 122

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

With money now in hand, I decided I’d better get a proper overcoat for myself. I went to a men’s tailor on Imam Hoseyn Square and ordered two overcoats: one in my size and a smaller, looser one for Leila. Leaving the tailor’s I realized I didn’t have a chance to have a chador made, so I returned to the shop and told him to make my overcoat loose-fitting.

Da (Mother) 121

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

The guard asked what we were doing there and how we’d gotten a weapon. I showed him the gun permit Mr. Mohammadi had given me. He read it, and I explained why we were there. After a moment, he wished us Godspeed and left. My first thought was to go to the hospital they had mentioned at the camp. Unaware the name had been changed, I asked where the Misaqiyeh Hospital was and how to get there.

Da (Mother) 120

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

First, we suggested the man’s mother, who was standing by the ambulance, but she seemed incapable. Though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I volunteered. I would never have forgiven myself if the woman had died giving birth. Once inside the ambulance, I noticed the woman was very distressed to have a man see her naked.

Da (Mother) 119

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

The clinic was nearly at the end of the main road of the camp. It was actually a shipping container, ten by five meters—perhaps more—with a bluish tile roof. The walls were painted white inside and out. The container was divided into two rooms. The larger of the two was also divided in two; on one side was an examination room and on the other a room with two beds used temporarily for patients.

Da (Mother) 118

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

Leaving the helicopter, we saw water on one side of us, and a desert flat with a road running down the middle on the other. Launches were moored by the shore where many people were waiting to board them. They were carrying as many of their household belongings as they could. Most were from families that had already been evacuated but had returned to rescue their possessions from the fires and falling debris.

Da (Mother) 117

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

We were about to start out on the road to camp when a jeep showed up with the same commandos, thirsting for our blood. They were just as stunned to see us as we were to see them. They pulled up, blocking our way and, asking nobody in particular, “How come they’re out?” One of them asked, “What are you doing here? Didn’t we hand you over last night?”

Da (Mother) 116

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

“That’s no excuse. Isn’t the Imam the leader of the country and all the Muslims of the world? Where do these gentlemen get off insulting him and disparaging our sacred beliefs? Why can’t they accept a reality as plain as day to everybody else!?” The officer said, “This is dangerous talk, especially in a place as isolated as this.” “We heard them defy the Imam and insult him,” the girls said.

Da (Mother) 115

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

They ordered everyone off the jetty and told us to return before daybreak when the craft was rescheduled to leave for Abadan. Soldiers got into their vehicles and left the jetty. We were at a loss as what to do. When we saw the commandos and Yaddi, we asked them, “What should we do? They won’t let us stay here. We have no way to getting back, and even if we did, we couldn’t get back here soon enough.”

Da (Mother) 114

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

There was a lot of arguing back and forth, but we finally returned to the camp. After a meal and a nap, we went back to the jetty in the late afternoon with the sun’s fury gone. Five of the commandos in Yaddi’s group had already flown off on the noon helicopter. Two of the commandos told me Yaddi and another man stayed behind trying to get passes for the rest.

Da (Mother) 113

The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

After Yaddi finished what he had to do at the jetty, he drove us back to the camp. That night, after a dinner of potato omelet mother cooked and greens she had bought at Sar Bandar, our small room became wall-to-wall sleeping cushions. As there was no room for Mohsen, we sent him to Uncle Nad Ali’s. My back was killing me and I paced most of the night, trying to deal with the pain.