The 354th Night of Memory -1
Compiled by: Leila Rostami
Translated by: Fazel Shirzad
2024-07-31
The 354th Night of Memory program was held on January 26, 2023 in the Surah Hall of the Islamic Revolution Art Center under the title "Eternal Family". The narrators of this program were Masoumeh Eskandari, Mansoura Eskandari, Javad Eskandari, Mohsen Eskandari and Fatemeh Arabi, who discussed the observations and bitter events of the assassination of the Eskandari family by hypocrites and the events that followed. Also, the book "Eternal Family" was introduced by Masoumeh Ramehrmazi on the subject of the assassination of this family. The Night of Memory was performed by Mona Orei.
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The first narrator of the Night of Memory, Masoumeh Eskandari, said at the beginning of her memoirs: I was six years old in 1982 when I had to go to the first grade. It was the morning of one of the August days when my mother woke me up and said: "We are going to measure [and buy] the gown and pants of your school." We walked to school along a long alley. They put on the gown and measured it. A navy blue gown that I thought was very beautiful. On the way back, I fantasized about myself in a navy gown. I was very excited to go to school and learn to read and write. When we returned home, I excitedly told story of gown to Mansoura, my four-year-old younger sister, how I went with mom and did these things. Mansoura listened with longing and attention. Mom watched our movements and said to Mansoura: "You will go to school in two or three years and I will buy you a gown." Later, I couldn't wear that navy gown and wore a gray one.
The narrator continued: "Mom was a very happy person, cheerful and like to laugh." Wherever she went, she would surely make the crowd happy. Two months before my mother's martyrdom, my uncle's wedding was held in June. They had a very big yard with a platform around it. All the ladies were sitting on the platform and if there was going to be a program, it would be performed in the middle of the courtyard. Mom and cousin had a very good relationship and were closer than sisters. I remember he thought to himself what to do to make the ceremony happy. We were in the midst of war and many martyrs were being brought. The atmosphere of the society was not such that we wanted to be happy in that way. On the other hand, we should respect the martyrs. My grandfather had many sheep. He also had a shepherd. There was an old coat and a shirt for which he was a shepherd. Mom put on the coat and changed her own clothes. She also blackened the face of the cousin with charcoal and said that you are blessed and I am the boss. Let's perform a show together. Everyone was laughing. Mom held the assembly for nearly 2 hours and said a lot of funny things, without going beyond Sharia and divine issues. The wedding was very well organized.
The narrator went on to say from the moment of the assassination: "About two or three months ago, mom always ordered us, if you want to open the door, be sure to ask who it is!" Because the hypocrites had threatened to kill and assassinate us several times by sending messages and dropping letters at our homes. That day, I woke up at 5 or 6 o’clock and went to the kitchen. We would have guests. My uncle's wife, who was 17 years old and their wedding was two months ago, and my 18-year-old cousin who came from the city. Mom and our younger brother Ali Akbar eat breakfast at the table. I greeted, I said: "Where is dad?" He said: "Dad left a little earlier today, because uncle was supposed to go somewhere, so they went together." Wash your hands and face, pray and come and have breakfast." I entered the yard sleepily. Behind the door in the courtyard, there was a small pond with a tap next to it. I opened the faucet and played with the water a little. I was not yet blue in the face when I saw the door being knocked violently and brutally. I was used to it, that is, it was not possible at all without asking who it is! I opened the door, I jumped up and opened the door. When I opened the door, two armed men entered the yard and threw me on the ground. The whole time they knocked, I opened the door and they entered the yard, it didn't take more than a few seconds.
Mom came out of the kitchen and when she saw them with guns, because she was mentally prepared and we had been threatened several times, she shouted death to the hypocrite. Mom was shot first. Mom was martyred and fell to the ground. Then they went to the kitchen. They shot at my sister-in-law and my cousin, who came out of the kitchen with the sound of gunshots, and those two people were martyred. They also shot two of my brothers who were 8 and 2 years old. But by God's grace, the arrows passed over their heads and fortunately they remained safe. My 4-year-old sister came out of the room with the sound of gunshots and went over mom's head. When they saw her on top of her mother's head, they shot her and she became injured. When leaving, they tried to throw grenades, but they couldn't. Because of the crowd that had gathered in the place early in the morning with the sound of gunshots. I was still lying on the floor watching all these scenes. When I was sure that the hypocrites had left the house, I got up with fear and went over my mother's head. Mom was still laughing. The mother-in-law and the cousin were lying on one side of the table. I came back from over my mother's head again. She was laughing. And I don't remember anything anymore.
The narrator continued: I did not go to that school. We had other problems on the sidelines that we changed our house. Dad wrote registered me in another school in the new neighborhood. At the same time, I was going to a new school with the daughter of one of my neighbors and I was far behind in my studies. On the other hand, when the mother is no longer at home, the foundations of that family weaken. No matter how hard the father tries, he cannot carry all the work together. With the critical situation we had, no one could pay attention to my lessons. Those days, my teacher was Mrs. Ghandchi. With motherly love and kindness, sometimes she took me to her house after school and took care of my lessons. She used to dictate and I would do my homework. After the work was done, either she herself would take me home, or Mr. Javad, my older brother, would follow me. I really owe the beginning of my education and a large part of my life to Mrs. Ghandchi's motherly kindness.
To be continued…
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