You are superior to epic

Translated by M. B. Khoshnevisan


Before marrying me[i], Martyr Andarzgoo started his serious activities and struggles against the Shah's regime and even proposed to me under the pseudonym "Abolhassan Nahvi", but our marriage never reduced the process and intensity of this struggle. Going from one house to another and from one city to another became an integral part of our lives.

I remember that it was one year after our marriage that he came for the first time to our house and said, "We have to leave here."

At that time, we were living in Chizar neighborhood in Tehran. Mehdi, my first child, was 3 months old, we took him and left for Qom. For the first two months, we were the guests of a religious student who was a friend of my husband. We had not brought any means of living. We were waiting for the SAVAK to attack our house in Chizar, but when nothing happened, after two months, we took the opportunity to visit the house, gathered the necessary things and returned to Qom. It was not long after that when SAVAK (Shah's secret police) agents attacked the Chizar's house and looted the remaining furniture and left. After that, we found out that they found our trace in Qom as well. So we had to go somewhere else.

The next destination was Mashhad. But due to the tracking of SAVAK, we could not stay near Imam Reza (PBUH) holy shrine for a long time. From Mashhad, with Mr. Tabasi's guidance, we went to the city of Zabol so that we could leave the country through the Afghan border.

At that time, I was no more than 17 years old, with a small child in my arms and a fetus of several months in my stomach. At first, my husband did not think it appropriate to take me with him to the border. It was a difficult time. In the dry climate of that region, among people whose language I did not understand properly, at that young age and worst of all, I settled with a native family in Zabol alone, and my husband left in order to assess the situation and then come back.

I don't remember exactly how many days or weeks passed when "Seyed" came after me. Several people were with them. They put me on a horse to go to Afghanistan. I was pregnant, I was not happy. I had neither a good physical condition nor a good mental condition. Contrary to what I had seen from them since the beginning of our marriage, my husband was restless, constantly saying zikr and praying. What did we really have ahead of us...?

The days and nights we spent in Zabol and Afghanistan were difficult and full of anxiety... Later we found out that some people who were taking us to Afghanistan had tried to kill us, but the prayers of "Seyed" saved our lives.

In Afghanistan, after we settled in a shack in one of the border villages, they still wanted to come after us, but the warm breath of "Seyed" and his prayers removed the danger once again. It turned out that there was no place to stay there. We returned to Zabol with my husband, but from there on I could not be with him. He settled me in a house with a couple and left.

The woman of that house was kind and faithful, but the man was afraid that I would be arrested and as a result his house would be exposed and he would be in trouble. He did not treat me well. I was like a prisoner and he was a jailer. I was not allowed to leave the house, and after a few days he did not even allow me come to the yard. I only left the room a few times a day to wash the baby. I looked at the sky and took a breath, which of course was nothing but inhaling hot and dry air. My physical condition was getting worse day by day and my little child was suffering from dysentery due to heat and malnutrition. But the landlord wouldn't even let me take him to the doctor.

I spent very difficult days and nights when, after God, only Mrs. Fatemeh Zahra (PBUH), the ancestor of my children, was my companion and witness. I cried so much that the owner's wife felt compassion and said to her husband: This child is Seyed, the offspring of the Prophet, be afraid and inform a doctor.

Finally, after a few days, they brought a doctor under the pretext that their own child was sick, he examined my child, and thanks God, with the medicines he gave, my child recovered. Then, the last night when I was at their house, he came home with a bottle of pills and told his wife, "Tonight I have to bury the bodies of this mother and son in this house".

Then he came to me and said, "Take this bottle of pills. You have to take them". But his wife intervened. She was begging and saying: "God doesn't like it, man! This woman has a child in her stomach, don't make us suffer".

I don't know what happened, but moments later, the owner of the house regretfully left the room. That night a man came to the house. He called me and said, "Your husband has sent me, come with me soon".

I did not know him. He did not give any sign of my husband. Should I have trusted him? How should I know that he was not a SAVAK officer? I thought for a moment. I had no choice. I said in my heart: O Fatemeh Zahra (PBUH), I do not worth, but have mercy on Seyed's children, who are your offspring, and protect us.

A few minutes later, I followed the man. He had covered his face and kept telling me: put your head down and come faster. My heart was beating fast. Sometimes I couldn't breathe. Cold sweat was on my forehead and my knees would bend every now and then. God, give me peace...

We reached a house with a crowd inside. As I took a step forward, my eyes fell on my husband. When I saw him in the middle, it was as if all anxieties and fears ended...

That night, we went to Mashhad together again. On the way, he told me, "I have guns, can you bring them"?

I put two colts on my right side and two others on my left side and tied a cloth around my stomach. I was 4 or 5 months pregnant at that time. We got on the bus, and as we went a little further, we reached a police station that was in charge of inspecting the buses. The bus stopped. I asked, "What should I do now"? My wife said calmly: "Don't worry. I have confided with my mother Hazrat Zahra (PBUH), she herself knows what to do, the only thing that you should do is that when they want to inspect us, pretend that you have a stomach ache".

I did the same, they made us to drop off. We went to the office of the police chief. Seyed had worn a new and beautiful suit that night. He introduced himself as a doctor and told the head of the police station, "I have come here to serve in the village, but I cannot leave the house with this woman! Ever since we started to move, she has made our days black, she is constantly vomiting."

In short, the result was that they welcomed us with cold water and tea, and after inspecting the passengers and the bus, we got on again. This process was repeated at the next checkpoint, but gradually I was getting really sick. The weapons were heavy and gradually I felt severe pain in my back and stomach. When we arrived near Mashhad, my husband felt that the situation was not very safe. He asked the driver to stop and we got off. In the darkness of the night, we buried the weapons in the desert and headed towards Mashhad.

Seyed had a motorcycle accident in an operation and he couldn't attend in an appointment. He told me, "go to the desired place quickly and receive some leaflets".

Hugging my child, I put on my chador and put a prayer chador in my bag and went to the place. I entered the alley with a black chador and after taking the leaflets, I put on a colored chador and left the alley with it. I had changed my way back and without looking behind me, I continued on my way until I reached home.

But sometimes it was more difficult to take care of children, homelessness and loneliness than giving and receiving leaflets and directly participating in the scene.

Source: Ebtehaj Shirazi, Fariba; You are superior to epic, Tehran, Secretariat of the Congress for Reviewing the Role of Women in Defense and Security, 1376 (1987), PP. 9-14


[i]Kobra Sil Sapoor, the wife and comrade of martyr Seyed Ali Andarzgoo

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