In memory of Reyhaneh Jabbari

Her writing from prison on the plight of women who are forced into prostitution

October 25, marks the anniversary of Rayhaneh Jabbari's execution. A young woman who bravely defended herself against rape,

but was condemned to death by the judiciary of the mullahs' misogynous regime.

She stands as a symbol of Iranian girls and women who refuse to acquiesce to subjugation and prefer to put their lives on line and stand up for their principles.

In her memory, here is one of her own writings from prison, a revealing piece that sheds light on the plight of the Iranian women and public in general, under the rule of the mullahs' religious tyranny.

I am Rayhaneh Jabbbari and I am 26.

I admit that I no longer care to live this kind life. It seems to me that life is not just breathing and passing the days and nights. Such repetition and anticipation is badly grazing my soul. Today, my body and soul, are both grazed and blood-drenched. I have the feeling of a soldier in the battle field. Soldiers use all their might to carry out their operation in their battle with the enemy. They use all their energy to somehow pound the enemy. Their mind is active and they do not think of those who are waiting for them at home.

However, they get frustrated if there is no operation for a long time. The lull and anticipation is very destructive and eats you from within like termites. All long wars are doomed to end because they wear out the spirit of soldiers on both sides and have no winners. Nevertheless, on both sides, the rulers claim victory and describe the other side as loser and coward. But the nations know how harmful such endless, eroding wars have been. Only the cemeteries become prosperous and filled with body of young men. The houses are in ruins and the ceilings in rubbles.

I am Rayhaneh Jabbari and I am 26.   I am tired of the eroding war of anticipating freedom. The war between me and survivors of Sarbandi, whom I no longer hate because he is so little that he does not deserve to be hated by me. I should not relieve him of the weight and depth of his transient pleasures. Today, so many years after that incident, I have learned that the life of any human being is far beyond what it seems. Sarbandi, however, had not learned this lesson from life despite his age, otherwise he would have known that it was not his right to impose his desire on me. He would have known that he can't deceive me or impose himself on me by force.

I have spent days and nights thinking why that incident happened? Why did Sarbani become greedy about my life and body? How did that big, strong man fall down? The answer I got was that our motives pulled the two opposing ends of the rope of destiny. On one side was him, with his motivation of seeking pleasure and using force. On the other side was me, motivated by wanting to escape from his coercion. This was my discovery after I spoke with some women in jail. (What a discovery that several judges were not able to make!!)

I am Rayhaneh Jabbari and I am 26. For the first time I sat down and spoke with a prostitute in 2008, when I was hardly 20 years old. I was forced to watch the tears of woman who had been imprisoned on the charge of establishing a brothel. I had hatefully watched her for months. I hated the fact that she trapped young girls. Her yelling and the foul language she used disgusted me. I disliked the way she walked, the way she ate, sat and even slept. Whenever I ran into her in the corridor or in the yard, I tried not to look at her. I thought she was a dirty and despicable animal. Her pseudonym was Mina. M. Even in prison, she prayed on young girls. She knew she would be free after a while and she would go back to the same job. Although I hated her so much, but circumstances made me sit down and listen to her talk.

I am Rayhaneh Jabbari and I am 26. Now I know that no human being is born corrupt. The corruption and mischief in human beings and society is created by the environment and also because people give in to the circumstances. Mina went to school simultaneous with the (1979) Revolution. Her father left her, her two sisters, two brothers and mother and went to Bandar Abbas in pursuit of a job. Before that, he had temporary and seasonal jobs, like shoveling the snow or street peddling, but he could not earn enough to feed his family. In 1979, someone accepted to give him a job in Bandar Abbas. When Mina came back home from school, her father was gone. For a few months, her mother tried to feed them. She even stole food from small shops in the hope that her father now has a job and would send them some money. But her father never returned. Exactly one year after, her mother frustrated from providing for their expenses, did not let the 8-year-old Mina continue her school. Mina stayed home and saw her mother leave home at certain hours. Shortly afterwards, her older sister also left home along with her mother near dusk. A few years later, she understood the meaning of leaving home at dusk in her own life.

I am Rayhaneh Jabbari and I am 26. Now I know that the environmental conditions and family can have an impact on the destiny and future of human beings, regardless of her talents, capabilities and intelligence. In my dialogue with Mina I learned that anyone with any talent and character, if situated in such conditions would become another Mina. No one can escape such a doomed destiny. There is only one way to break out of this repetitive cycle of prostitution and that is to think deeply in the few hours that she is auctioning off her body and understand that she is a slave. And if she decides to refuse being a slave, then a window will open for her to escape. Mina told me about all details of her job... She told me that a prostitute gets worn out very quickly and when she dries up, she is thrown aside like a disgusting garbage. Ultimately, she is either killed by someone or she commits suicide. There are not many prostitutes who die of natural death or have a long life.

Mina told me that her mother drained her and her two sisters' energy to the last day of her life to make her two sons live comfortably. Her poisonous, hateful words showed how much she was hurt by discrimination against her over her brothers. She hated her brothers. She hated even her only son who was the product of a rape and expected his mother to pay for him even when she was in jail. He is only 17 years younger than his mother. Mina told me that the first time her mother sold her, she had pleaded with harrowing cries to let her go. She said how her mother and sisters' pimp beat her up and left her with a middle-aged man to be raped at the age of 12 to pay some money to her destitute family. She told me that for some time, she wept every time she had to sleep with a man. She said she shivered and cursed her parents and wished to die a thousand times. She told me that she got used to the situation after a while and learned the special tricks of her detested and dangerous job, to pray on other girls and force them into slavery. And I learned that many victims turn into hunters when they lose hope of relief from sexual exploitation, and they pray on new victims to enter them into this corrupt cycle.

One of the victims was Mahsa, who had been raped by her brother at the age of 11. Her brother was addicted to CRACK and when he went into hallucination, he did not hear Mahsa begging her to leave her alone. Mahsa was raped time and again until she was 16. She had attempted several times to commit suicide. Even in prison, she attempted a few times. Once I saw with my own eyes that she attempted to cut her jugular vein with broken glass, in front of others but some kind inmates were very quick and prevented her death. Although her life is more bitter than death.

Niyousha was another young woman who had become homeless after her parents had a divorce. None of them wanted her, so she went to her grandmother's house where she was often battered and humiliated. They did not want her. Until she was 15, she was repeatedly raped by her uncle. Then she was obsessed with the thought of escaping. That sacred and humane decision to escape is the effort to refuse being a slave. She escaped to a friend's house. Then a man by the name of Ali paid for her to go to a hairdressing class. Everything was fine and Niyousha was so sure that her future is guaranteed. Then she met a girl called Tina who destroyed her dreams. The first step for runaway girls is consuming drugs. Ali abandons her and the 16-year-old Niyousha is left alone all by herself. Addicted and poor. Even the best philosophers and scientists or even the prophets cannot change the destiny of a girl that is caught up in such circumstances. Then she goes to the public toilet of the City Park where she spent her nights and days.... To escape starvation and to pay for her drugs, she received drugs from Tina and others and gave them to clients. Obviously, she ended up getting arrested and imprisoned in jail.

I am Rayhaneh Jabbari and I am 26. And I am still wondering that when girls who are humiliated and insulted are sexually exploited, and when they do not want to be slaves, who is there for them to take refuge with? Is there a government or ordinary citizens or any responsible person to give support to such girls?