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Monday 27 October 2014

Read heartbreaking last letter Iranian womanwrote before she was hanged


27 year old Reyhaney Jabbari was executed
on Saturday October 25th by hanging in Iran
seven years after she killed a man that she
claimed had attempted to rape her. (read
here). Before she was killed, Reyhaney wrote a
very emotional letter to her mother, asking
that her organs be donated to those who need
them. See the full text of the letter after the
cut...
The full text of the letter was translated by the
National Council of Resistance of Iran:
Dear Sholeh, today I learned that it is now my
turn to face Qisas (the Iranian regime's law of
retribution). I am hurt as to why you did not
let me know yourself that I have reached the
last page of the book of my life. Don’t you
think that I should know? You know how
ashamed I am that you are sad. Why did you
not take the chance for me to kiss your hand
and that of dad?
The world allowed me to live for 19 years.
That ominous night it was I that should have
been killed. My body would have been thrown
in some corner of the city, and after a few
days, the police would have taken you to the
coroner’s office to identify my body and there
you would also learn that I had been raped as
well. The murderer would have never been
found since we don’t have their wealth and
their power. Then you would have continued
your life suffering and ashamed, and a few
years later you would have died of this
suffering and that would have been that.
However, with that cursed blow the story
changed. My body was not thrown aside, but
into the grave of Evin Prison and its solitary
wards, and now the grave-like prison of
Shahr-e Ray. But give in to the fate and don’t
complain. You know better that death is not
the end of life.
You taught me that one comes to this world
to gain an experience and learn a lesson and
with each birth a responsibility is put on
one’s shoulder. I learned that sometimes one
has to fight. I do remember when you told me
that the carriage man protested the man who
was flogging me, but the flogger hit the lash
on his head and face that ultimately led to his
death. You told me that for creating a value
one should persevere even if one dies.
You taught us that as we go to school one
should be a lady in face of the quarrels and
complaints. Do you remember how much you
underlined the way we behave? Your
experience was incorrect. When this incident
happened, my teachings did not help me.
Being presented in court made me appear as a
cold-blooded murderer and a ruthless
criminal. I shed no tears. I did not beg. I did
not cry my head off since I trusted the law.
But I was charged with being indifferent in
face of a crime. You see, I didn’t even kill the
mosquitoes and I threw away the cockroaches
by taking them by their antennas. Now I have
become a premeditated murderer. My
treatment of the animals was interpreted as
being inclined to be a boy and the judge
didn’t even trouble himself to look at the fact
that at the time of the incident I had long and
polished nails.
How optimistic was he who expected justice
from the judges! He never questioned the fact
that my hands are not coarse like those of a
sportswoman, especially a boxer. And this
country that you planted its love in me never
wanted me and no one supported me when
under the blows of the interrogator I was
crying out and I was hearing the most vulgar
terms. When I shed the last sign of beauty
from myself by shaving my hair I was
rewarded: 11 days in solitary.
Dear Sholeh, don’t cry for what you are
hearing. On the first day that in the police
office an old unmarried agent hurt me for my
nails I understood that beauty is not looked
for in this era. The beauty of looks, beauty of
thoughts and wishes, a beautiful handwriting,
beauty of the eyes and vision, and even
beauty of a nice voice.
My dear mother, my ideology has changed
and you are not responsible for it. My words
are unending and I gave it all to someone so
that when I am executed without your
presence and knowledge, it would be given to
you. I left you much handwritten material as
my heritage.
However, before my death I want something
from you, that you have to provide for me with
all your might and in any way that you can. In
fact this is the only thing I want from this
world, this country and you. I know you need
time for this. Therefore, I am telling you part
of my will sooner. Please don’t cry and listen.
I want you to go to the court and tell them my
request. I cannot write such a letter from
inside the prison that would be approved by
the head of prison; so once again you have to
suffer because of me. It is the only thing that
if even you beg for it I would not become
upset although I have told you many times not
to beg to save me from being executed.
My kind mother, dear Sholeh, the one more
dear to me than my life, I don’t want to rot
under the soil. I don’t want my eye or my
young heart to turn into dust. Beg so that it is
arranged that as soon as I am hanged my
heart, kidney, eye, bones and anything that
can be transplanted be taken away from my
body and given to someone who needs them
as a gift. I don’t want the recipient know my
name, buy me a bouquet, or even pray for me.
I am telling you from the bottom of my heart
that I don’t want to have a grave for you to
come and mourn there and suffer. I don’t want
you to wear black clothing for me. Do your
best to forget my difficult days. Give me to the
wind to take away.
The world did not love us. It did not want my
fate. And now I am giving in to it and embrace
the death. Because in the court of God I will
charge the inspectors, I will charge inspector
Shamlou, I will charge judge, and the judges of
country’s Supreme Court that beat me up
when I was awake and did not refrain from
harassing me. In the court of the creator I will
charge Dr. Farvandi, I will charge Qassem
Shabani and all those that out of ignorance or
with their lies wronged me and trampled on
my rights and didn’t pay heed to the fact that
sometimes what appears as reality is different
from it.
Dear soft-hearted Sholeh, in the other world it
is you and me who are the accusers and
others who are the accused. Let’s see what
God wants. I wanted to embrace you until I
die. I love you.

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