Mahboubeh Karami

Mahboubeh Karami, Human Rights and Women Activists prisoner with sever health problems not permitted for medical leave

 

Mahboubeh Karami, Human Rights and Women Activists prisoner with sever physical and mental problems was not permitted for medical leave by Iran's judicial authorities.

According to a report by Human Rights Activists News Agency (HRANA), Mahboubeh Karami, Political prisoner of the Women Ward of Evin prison, had been on medical leave two times, just three and seven days, but was backed to prison with incomplete medical period by judicial authorities.

Mahboubeh Karami, 42, was arrested in March 2010 and detained, without charge or trial, in solitary confinement in Evin Prison, Tehran until 18 August 2010, at which time she was released on bail equivalent to US$500,000. She began serving a three-year prison sentence on 15 May 2011, imposed for her peaceful activities in support of greater rights for women. She was convicted of “membership of an illegal organization (HRAI)”, “gathering and colluding with intent to harm state security and for spreading propaganda against the system”.

Mahboubeh Karami has health problems that her family and friends fear will worsen in prison. She was suffering from depression at the time of her arrest in March 2010, which became more severe while she was in detention. She is also said to suffer from insomnia and respiratory problems. She was in detention at the time of her mother’s death in 2009 and she was not allowed prison leave to attend the one year anniversary of her mother’s death. Prior to her arrest, she was the only carer for her aging father, who suffers from Alzheimer’s disease. Her father also passed away later.

Mahboubeh Karami had been arrested four times before on similar charges. Each time, she was detained for several days before being released.





 

Letter from Evin 2

 

And this is how we turn thirty!

By Atefeh Nabavi

Translation by Davood Eftekhar

Two years and three months have passed. In the agitated moments of [ward] 209 [solitary confinement] I thought of the [amount of] time I would have to spend in this place. My mind could not comprehend the word “year”, and the months and days were more plausible and desirable criteria for measuring time. “20 days passed. They won’t keep you for more than 50 days… one month passed, [but] temporary detention is usually two months. Three months, four months, seven months…” You think: “Don’t worry, the passage of time is to your advantage; as it passes, you reach the end.” But when you turn 30 in prison, instead of hours and days and months, your criterion changes to years. You don’t feel like you have gained [anything] from the passage of time. You realize these are perhaps the brightest moments of your life, which you restlessly see pass you by; unique and irreversible moments. {This is the time] for passion, enthusiasm, and youthful ecstasy, but you spent all this time here in this swamp like a swimmer unable to surface for breath. Bitterness fills your soul.

100 days [were spent] in ward 209, one year [was spent] in the public ward with criminals, addicts, murderers, and sick girls and women, who are undoubtedly, to a great extent, the products of their perverse society. And now [it has been] over 11 months of living in an isolated environment where there is no communication with the outside world. We live disconnected from whatever links humans to others, nature and life. We only get 20 minutes per week for cabin visits with our families. Prison guards threaten to end [visitation] to put [increased] pressure on us.
More than two years have passed since the [June 2009 Iranian Presidential] election and the result was nothing but hundreds of years of prison sentences for the children of this land. And now I, one of the first post-election female prisoners, at the turn of my thirtieth birthday, am paying the price for a protest not tolerated by those in power. This is my third year of imprisonment without furlough, face-to-face visits, and telephone contact.

On June 15, 2009, just like the three to four million people who came to the streets to show their protest, I felt like a significant incident was taking place in my country. I felt [obliged] to take part and rely on the promises made only one week before, during the presidential debates. I imagined that I would return home after the protest and remain a social activist. However, not only was this promise not kept and I did not return home, but also my husband was sent to prison because he had followed up on my case.

Now, I am experiencing the unwritten chapters of history. [I have experienced] interrogation, intimidation, solitary confinement, [witnessing] the execution and exile of my closest friends (someone from the next bed or from the same table [where we used to eat]), the endless desire for hearing the voice of those dearest to you ( even for a single moment).-I haver watched the silent mourning of those who are not permitted to attend the funeral of their loved ones, and the restlessness of a mother who cannot participate in the wedding ceremony of her child. [I have experienced] disease, sorrow, and nostalgia; which all seems to become intensified and less bearable by the tall and concrete [prison] walls.

However…
Experiencing these conditions is not something you [would want to] wish upon anyone. The combination of pain and passion embedded in yearning souls creates an elixir that not only wears the soul but also polishes and purifies it.
This is how we turn thirty in [prison]…


Letter from Evin

 

 

 

 

Now Banooye Sabz publishes the English translation of Bari Bani Yaghou summoned last month to serve a one-year sentence, to her husband and fellow journalist Bahman Ahmadi Amoui --- arrested with Bani Yahoob just after the disputed 2009 Presidential election, he is serving a term of 7 years and 4 months.

 

My dearest Bahman,
It has been two months since I last saw you; two months since that last visit at Rajai Shahr prison when I looked at you from behind those iron bars and double pane windows. I forgot to tell you how hesitant and skeptical I was about attending that last visitation. I had even planned to turn myself over at Evin prison a few days earlier in order to avoid the arrival of Thursday, the visitation day at Rajai Shahr.

Perhaps as you read my letter you may find what I just wrote surprising, so let me explain why that farewell visitation was so difficult for me.I knew then that we would have to wait at least another year to see each other.Can you believe that? An entire year! I was afraid that I would not have the courage to say goodbye for an entire year. I was afraid that I would break down and cry, tears rolling down my face and that image would haunt you for an entire year. In the end I overcame my fear and forced myself to come to see you.

The prosecutor's office and prison officials refused to allow even a woman who was about to go to prison the right to see her incarcerated husband, face to face, one last time. There was a time when this type of restrictions would shock me, but these days nothing surprises me anymore. Does it surprise you?

Alas this last visit also took place while you sat behind those two pane, opaque windows and iron bars at Rajai Shahr prison. Like so many other of our visitations, you were wearing your green T-Shirt. The color green suites you.You would always say: "Jila, since I know you really like the color green, I'll wear this T-shirt on visitation days!" We had only twenty minutes and we were both speaking very quickly as if to fit all that needed to be said in the next 20 months into the twenty minutes that lay ahead of us. It was so hard!

Of course because you have more experience with life behind bars, you kept giving me advice on what to do in order to make my upcoming prison sentence more bearable. You spoke of the importance of exercise, the need to read and study and to try and get some fresh air every day. You even recommended a few books you thought I should read; books that were as you put it, particularly enjoyable if read behind bars. I kept saying: "Bahman don't worry so much about me and this one year I will be spending behind bars, for this too shall pass."

God only knows how nervous I was on that day; nervous that one of us would break down and cry, our tears rolling down our faces. The twenty minutes went by and neither of us cried. In the end, I placed my hand on those damned, double pane windows and you placed yours on the other side, a gesture that rather than an embrace or a kiss was supposed to demonstrated the depth of our feelings for each other. Our visitation time came to an end. You stood up and walked away and as I watched you walking away from me from behind those windows and iron bars, reassured that you could no longer see me, I finally let loose, quietly sobbing, tears rolling down my face. I don't know how you must have felt during those moments when you were walking away from me....

On that first day at Evin prison while passing by the general ward 350 on my way to the women's ward, I was filled with a sense of joy. It was the place you had spent three years of your life. I had always wanted to see it at least once in my life, even if from a far. Now I live next to the same ward where you were being held until a few weeks ago.

As you know, the women's ward is right next to ward 350 where male political prisoners are detained. At times we hear the loud voices of your former cell mates from the other side of the wall. Each time I am reminded of the letter you wrote to me in which you talked about hearing the voices of the female prisoners and how you envisioned me amongst them, knowing that soon I would be one of them too-and now I am here but you are no longer on the other side of this wall.

The images, walls and incidents here are all familiar to me. They are familiar because in the past three years you repeatedly wrote about them to me in your letters or described them to me during those prison visits from behind a telephone booth. Today I am personally experiencing your descriptions. You had even told me about the moon in the skies above Evin prison.

Last night I was sitting in the ward when Shabnam Madadzadeh cried out "Come out everyone and see how beautiful the moon is tonight." It was at that moment that I remembered how you and your friends would sit in the yard at Evin's ward 350 staring at the moon. I followed Shabnam to the small area designated for fresh air at the women's ward and I stared at the moon; the moon that was at times looked as though it was embracing a grey cloud but would become bright and clear only a few moments later.

"I loved the moon from the time I was a little girl! You see, the moon is so beautiful. When I was at Rajai Shahr prison I wasn't able to see the moon. I remember how much I missed it, then suddenly one day from between several doors and iron bars I saw a glimpse of the moon. It was such a fulfilling feeling!" Shabnam explained.

I am trying to write a short account of my days here at Evin so that you can see that just as you had said, my days here are actually not that bad. Our days are calm. Most people are involved in rigorous study programs, sports, crafts, or teaching a foreign language. Most female prisoners are in good spirits. Their high spirits energize me. I am filled with hope when I see Bahareh Hedayat's energy, vitality and determination despite her heavy prison sentence. I am energized by the presence of women such as Mahvash Shahryari and Fariba Kamal Abadi, both serving 20-year prison sentences behind bars; women who have been denied furlough for the past few years and yet remain calm and patient. I am motivated by the presence of Nasrin Sotoudeh who has spent almost three years in prison without a day of furlough. Given that we are relative newcomers to Evin, Shiva, Mahsa and I have no right to be impatient or lack vitality or energy. We too read like they do. We also exercise and remain patient while behind bars.

The women's ward at Evin currently houses 33 political prisoners. They transferred Faezeh [Hashemi, the daughter of former President Hashemi Rafsanjani] at around 12:30 am. At 12 midnight the lights are turned off. We were all in bed, either asleep or reading. The transfer of a new prisoner so late into the night is not an ordinary event, for most prisoners are transferred to the general ward during business hours. When Faezeh arrived we all got out of our beds. Everyone was wondering what had happened and why Hashemi Rafsanjani's daughter would be transferred to Evin at this time of night. Faezeh described with great excitement how she had been arrested and transferred to Evin. Nazanin Deyhimi was transferred to Evin at around 3:00 pm. She is the daughter of the famous writer and translator Derakhshan Deyhimi

.
There is little difference between day and night behind bars. As such the arrival of a new prisoner is considered an important event, leading to much commotion inside the ward.Those who arrive provide a glimpse of life outside prison. The veteran prisoners first ask the newcomers to talk about the reasons behind their arrest. The questioning usually ends with "So what else is new? How is everything out there? Tell me about the latest developments and analysis."
We are 33 women with a variety of opinions and at times opposing points of views at Evin's women's ward. Some prisoners are supporters of the Green movement, others are Baha'i, Born Again Christians. or members of the Mojahedin Khalq.

My dearest Bahman, what I find most attractive about this prison is that individuals with a variety of backgrounds and apposing points of view are coexisting peacefully. We sit together, share meals, have discussions and arguments. I find this peaceful coexistence extremely gratifying. My experience here behind bars has made me hopeful that I may someday witness a similar model implemented across our society at large. I look forward to the day when men and women with a variety of political and religious beliefs live together without the need to eliminate one another, or become enemies as a result of their differences of opinion, religion, or political ideologies.
If such a coexistence is possible behind bars, why should it not be possible across our beloved land? I am hopeful that some day we will witness such a society in Iran and know that better days lie ahead.
I miss you and love you more than ever. Jila Baniyaghoub
The Women's Ward at Evin Prison

PS I don't mean to imply that we never run into problems living together here at Evin. It goes without saying that we too experience our share of disagreements and disputes. What is important however, is that they are ultimately resolved through discussion and dialogue.

Evin Prison, Tehran. Prisoners are under harsh conditions

Intrance Evin Prison, Tehran

Most of the political prisoners in Evin are incarcerated in Wards 209, 350 and Ward 2-A which is under the control of IRGC.
Because these prisoners already were kept under more restrictive conditions, they now have to bear even harsher conditions.

Ward 350 in Evin is located in the basement and these days, it has been divided into two sections for men and women.
This ward that is located in the basement of an isolated building lacking proper facilities and is in much worse condition than the other sections in Evin prison.

Evin Prison

This ward has only four bathroom facilities, that even under the regular circumstances are sub-standard. It does not meet the needs of the 180 inmates, most of whom are political prisoners that were arrested during the post-presidential election events.

Currently, large numbers prisoners of conscience-political prisoners, including many journalists and student activist supporters of the Green Movement, are incarcerated in this ward
.
At the far end of this ward there is a hall, without any facilities or fresh air, that houses the female political prisoners.
There are more than thirty female political prisoners incarcerated in this section that barely has the proper facilities for holding ten inmates.

Visitors Evin Prison

The female political prisoners that were already deprived of fresh air or any proper amenities, and with sub-standard sanitation.
Nasrin Sotoudeh, Bahareh Hedayat, Zhilla Karamzadeh, Mahdiyeh Golro, Atefeh Nabavi and many more are incarcerated in this section

Wards 209 and 2-A prisoners are in even harsher and in a more difficult situation:

Conditions are even much worse in Evin Wards 209 and 2-A. These Wards are essentially illegal and are not under jurisdiction of the Judiciary. They keep the prisoners in these wards under whatever condition they want and Judicial officials are not allowed to visit these sections

Ward 209 cells are equipped with solid doors and the cells are very cold in the winter and very hot in the summer.
The cells in Ward 209 do not have beds, and even in the cold winter season, the prisoners have to sleep on the floor which is covered only by a thin carpet.
The cells in this ward are normally very cold in the winter and with no heating, the prisoners are suffering much harsher conditions.

Ward 209

Officials even deny the prisoners in Wards 209 and 2-A any extra blankets. They even refuse to give the prisoners the warmer clothing that their families provide for them.
The families of inmates in Evin prison provide seasonal clothing for the prisoners which are given to the inmates by the officials.

The prisoners in these two wards have to spend the night on the floor of their cells.
Incarcerated in these 2 Wards are people such as, Behzad Nabavi, Abdollah Ramezanzadeh, Abdolfatah Soltani, Kohyar Goudarzi and large numbers of political and student activists.
Also, newly arrested prisoners, Parasto Dookouhaki, Marziyeh Rasouli, Arash Sadeghi and Saham Bourghani are now incarcerated in these wards.
At times, the arrested activists are kept in these illegal wards for months in a limbo status

Ward 209

Most of the officials and authorities except for the very high rank Judiciary officials are barred from visiting these wards. Even numerous requests from the Parliament members to inspect these wards have been denied by the Intelligence officials.

Small intern room

After hearing of no heating fuel in Evin, the families of the political prisoners request that the District Attorney and the Judiciary officials address this situation. They ask the officials not to forget that they are responsible for the well being of these prisoners, especially the political prisoners that are incarcerated only for their ideology. The officials must provide the prisoners with proper conditions for the duration of their imprisonment.

Source: Kalameh, Persianobanoo

Torture at Evin Prison

Saeed Pourheydan

There are many stories about torture in Evin Prison, Tehran, Iran.

This is the story by Saeed Pourheydar, journalist. His own experiences and his interviews with 19 Political Prisoners.

In an interview with the International Campaign for Human Rights in Iran, journalist Saeed Pourheydar, who was arrested twice after the 2009 election and eventually sentenced to five years in prison, described his prison abuse, charges, his detention conditions inside Evin Prison, and the torture of other political prisoners.
Saeed Pourheydar is a journalist who formerly worked for several reformist newspapers. He told the Campaign that after the 2009 presidential election, he was arrested twice: once on 6 February 2010 at his home when he was arrested by Intelligence Ministry and served one month inside Ward 240 of Evin Prison, and another time on 10 October 2010, when he was detained after being summoned to Evin Prison Court and spent 52 days in prison until his appeals court issued a ruling. When the appeals court upheld his conviction, Pourheydar left Iran and currently resides abroad.

“The investigative judge raised five charges against me” ‘propagating against the regime,’ ‘assembly and collusion with the intent to overthrow,’ ‘disrupting public order,’ ‘insulting the president,’ and ‘insulting the sanctities and questioning Islamic orders.’ Judge Pirabbasi, the presiding judge of Branch 26 of the Revolutionary Court, sentenced me to five years in prison, a ten-year ban on journalistic activities and a payment of $3,000 in fines … In my case file, other than my personal blogs and my interviews with media outside the country, there were no reasons or logical evidence for arresting or sentencing me,” said Pourheydar.
“Even if a prisoner is not to suffer any compounded physical torture or abuse, solitary confinement is in itself a manifestation of psychological and mental torture. The most significant abuse I suffered in prison was my psychological and mental torture (white torture). Sometimes I was physically tortured, which included beatings during interrogations, sleep deprivation, once throwing me inside a cold water barrel, or keeping me naked outside in the cold weather. Some of the mental and psychological torture included giving me false news and information, threatening me with flogging, forcing me to accept immoral charges, threatening me with arrests of my family members or giving me false news about the arrests of my wife and my father, playing my daughter’s voice during an interrogation session and telling me that my wife and my daughter were also arrested, threatening me with a long prison sentence, and banning my visitations and contacts with my family,” he continued.
“Before prison, I used to take one pill a day for my heart condition. The ‘gift’ of my one-month solitary cell was that after I was released, I had to take three pills daily for my heart and use sedatives. Also, after four days of hunger strike, which normally lead to a prisoner’s weight loss, I lost nine kilograms in one month and once, after my interrogation session ended, I suffered a heart attack,” added Pourheydar

“The conditions of wards containing solitary cells are different from the conditions inside the General Ward. Inside the solitary cells, the prisoner has no access to the store, sports equipment, books, etc. Some cells have a john, and some don’t, so the prisoner must go to the bathroom blindfolded and with the help of a prison guard every time… Inside General Ward 350, where political prisoners are kept, the conditions are slightly better. Ward 350 has a store, fresh air courtyard, a library, limited sports equipment, heating systems, etc., and the prisoners also has access to other amenities which they can pay for personally.”

“There were awake and sleeping hours inside Ward 350, but inside solitary cells, the prisoners were not even aware of what time of day or night it was. Inside Ward 350, wake-up time was at 7:00 a.m. and 10:00 p.m. was bedtime. Twice daily there was a roll call. Twice daily, prisoners inside the General Ward went to the courtyard where they were counted. They did the morning headcount at 7:00 a.m. and the nightly headcount at 6:00 p.m. But it wasn’t like the prisoners were forced to sleep during sleeping hours or be awake during the waking hours. Except for two times during the day when they performed the headcount and everyone had to be present, we could decide whether we wanted to be awake or asleep during other parts of the day,” said Pourheydar.
“The books in Ward 350′s library were all books that entered the prison after approval by prison authorities, and it is natural that most of these books would not be appreciated or used by the prisoners. Many of the books were old and as my friends called them “low- or no-risk” books. Though the Kayhan newspaper was delivered to ordinary wards, it was not distributed to Ward 350. After I was released, I learned from my friends that prisoners no longer have access to even those useless newspapers. There are no books or newspapers available to the prisoner inside solitary cells.”
“Many of my prisoner friends inside Evin’s Ward 350, who had prior experience in solitary cells inside Wards 209, 240, and IRGC’s Ward 2-A, had been exposed to some type of psychological, mental, or physical torture. During my time in Ward 350, I was able to talk to 19 friends who had been tortured. Most of the torture took place inside the ward affiliated with the IRGC (Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps), and depending on what the security forces decided for the prisoner, the type and intensity of the torture differed. For example, if they were set on extracting confessions out of someone, they would force him to confess and accept his charges in whatever way they could. During the talks I had with my friends, they gave me a complete description of what they went through in solitary cells.

The stories I heard about the horrible psychological and physical torture provided me with new insight about how brutally the regime treats its political prisoners,” he added.
“Beatings, urinating on the prisoner’s head and face, hanging the prisoner by his feet, flogging, using electric shockers, hitting sensitive spots on one’s body, and one case of horrible rape using glue, were parts of the physical torture my friends told me about. Fake executions, insults and degradation, arrests of family members, threats of arresting and raping the prisoner’s wife or daughter, threatening the prisoner with the death sentence, forcing the prisoner to take psychedelics, etc., were only a small part of the psychological and mental tortures used inside the Islamic Republic prisons that these 19 prisoners experienced. Though the number of prisoners who were tortured was far more than this number, when I was inside Ward 250, I was only able to talk to 19 individuals, some of whom were unfortunately executed later and some others who continue to serve their time there.

SECTION 209 EVIN PRISON, TEHRAN

"I spat out my broken teeth" episode 3, section 209.

section 209 is in evin prison, tehran, iran, where Baha'is are tortured in a bid for them to recant their religion, a basic right which this largest minority group in Iran are deprived of.

in august (2010) a group of 7 Bahá'ís known as the "7 Friends" were each sentenced to 20 years prison for the crime of being Bahá'í.

a few weeks ago, from international support of political leaders, human rights activists, and personal supporters, their sentence was reduced to 10 years in september (2010).

They were held in Evin for around 2 years in section 209, evin prison (tehran, iran), and in September (2010) from international pressure, their sentence was reduced to 10 years. Our aim is to have them, and all Baha'is in prisons across Iran, released immediately.

The 7 Friends have been moved to Gohardasht prison in Karaj -- a burden to their families who now have to travel outside Tehran to see them.

section 209 is a social media campaign with the aim to advocate the release of Baha'is imprisoned in Iran.

our interviewee was imprisoned 3 times in mashad. he was tortured, beaten, interrogated, and threatened with execution. he survived, escaped, and is lucky to be alive today to share his story.

since the beginning of the Baha'i Faith in 1844, over 20,000 people in Iran have been killed and many more persecuted.

Evin Prison Visting Hall. December 2009