January 3, 2024
This morning, they contacted me from
the Sharia court to carry out the sentence
I reported to the Public Prosecutor’s Office
7th Division, Tehran, Iran
The guard said:
Put your hijab on.
I said:
– I am here to be whipped
for not wearing a hijab!
The public executioner was summoned.
He said:
Put your hijab on
and come with me.
– I won’t!
You won’t? I’ll lash you so you know where you are!
We’ll also open a new case file on your dossier.
You will be served 74 more lashes!
I didn’t put it on.
The man repeated the command:
Didn’t I tell you to put it on?
I didn’t put it on.
A woman in chador
pulled a scarf over my head
I removed it.
Back and forth . . .
They handcuffed me from the back
Pulled the scarf over my head
We went down to the basement with
the judge, the public executioner, and the chadori woman
The woman sighed: I know! I know!
The turbaned judge laughed in my face
He reminded me of the old rag-and-bone man
in Sadegh Hedayat’s Blind Owl
I turned my face away
They opened an iron door
to a small room with cement walls
with a bed in the corner
with iron handcuffs and shackles
By the bedside, there was an iron instrument
that looked like a painter’s easel
The judge asked:
How are you feeling, ma’am?
I didn’t respond.
I’m talking to you, ma’am!
I didn’t respond.
The public executioner said:
Remove your jacket.
I hanged my jacket and headscarf
from the torture easel
He said:
Put your scarf on.
– I won’t!
I said,
– Put your Quran under your arm,
as you should,
and lash me!
The woman came up:
Please don’t be stubborn.
She pulled the scarf over my head.
The judge said:
Don’t lash too sharply!
The man began.
He whipped me on my shoulders, shoulder blades, buttocks, thighs, calves,
again and again . . .
I wasn’t counting—was singing—
under my breath:
– In the name of woman
In the name of life
The cloak of slavery was rent
Our dark night will turn into dawn
and whips will break with the axe
It was finished.
We left.
I didn’t let them think it hurt.
We went up to the office of
the public-executioner-judge
I removed my hijab.
The woman said: Please put it on,
and pulled it over my head.
The judge said:
If you want to live differently
you can live abroad.
I said:
– This country belongs to all.
He said:
Yes. We’re not happy either, but it’s the law.
I said:
– Let the law do what it can.
We’ll continue our resistance.
We left the room.
And I removed my hijab.
