Azadeh Pourzaiicl
_________ VA R SUNt AY DECEMBER30
_ ‘
An open letter to His Excellency Seped
Mohammad Khatami, pr&s-ident of the Is-
lamic Republic of Iran.
Dear Mr. President:
I am a 17-year-old Iranian girl. My in-
troduction to politics came IIrough hearing
your televised campaign interview when I
was 12. On Election Day, I accompanied my
parents to vote. Full of hope and great ex-
pectations, we drove across town while roy
father told us stories about the 1ast and my
mother looked at IIe gathering crowds in
IIe street wiII her writer's eyes. My sister
boasted that she was old enough to vote, and
I felt like becoming a political activist but
had to struggle with my birthdate.
When I was a year old, my father was im-
prisoned for the first time. He was not a
thief, he was not a smuggler, he had commit-
ted no crime. Like so many other law-
abiding Iranians, he became a prisoner who
had no idea why he was in prison.
When 1 was 6 he was hauled off to prison a
second time. I remember banging my white
child's shoes against the waft and shouting.
i)on't tell me my father is traveling. He is in
Evin Prison. Don't tell me about his roorrr,
he is in a solitary celL” Once again he was
freed—a thin, tired, quiet man. Once a vi-
brant, gregarious talker, he had turned into
a passive and indifferent listener.
I was 15 when my mother, Mehrangiz
Kar, a lawyer and women's rights activist,
was imprisoned. A few months earlier, ray
sister, Leily, had hurriedly left IIe couritiy,
leaving all her hopes and dreams in Iran.
Government agents, or those who pretend-
ed to be government agents, had driven
sleep from her eyes and peace fflom her
heart.
So it was that my father and I were left
alone to keep each other company, Family
and friends spoke of me as a strong young
woman. Only the walls in my room shared
my fear and frustration as I sobbed tan-
comitrollably and banged them with my fists.
When my mother was ffinafry released, I
still wanted to see your smiling face and
heat- your words on government television,
Mr. President—_no matter that it was the
same government television IIat had so
recklessly distorted my mother's statements
and slandered and insulted her.
Not long after she had secured her release
from prison by posting back-breaking bait,
my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I was
16 and could hardly wait now that I could
vote for your election to a second term. Cast-
inga ballot for the first time in my life was a
thrift. I carefully wrote “Seyed Mohamrnad
Khataini and became an adult. I am now ac-
companying my mother, who ha traveled
abroad to seek treatment for her illness.
A month ago we heard IIe news of my (a-
IIer's disappeai-ance. Mr. President, my La-
iher, Siamak Pourzand, born Nov. 24, 1931,
was taken by unknown agents as he was see-
ing oL some guests at his sister's house. He
has not been heard from since. OEe last time
my mother and I spoke with him, he told us
that he was being followed by men on motor-
cycles and that he was in danger. We hadn't
known what to do to help, and we feel help-
less now.
My mother sits in a corner quietly and
waits for the phone to ring. 1 know waft that
a cancer patient has no hope of survival if
she is tense and agitated. I don't know what
to do for eiIIer of my parents.
OEis morning I woke up terrified. I had
dreamed that an interrogator had slashed
my father's neck, and I was running around
hysterically trying to find a way to p him
alive. He called me back to him saying, it is
no use, stay with me for a few more mo-
ments.”
OEe road to Evin Prison has a sharp turn
called “the repentance curve.” If I ever pass
that road, I will repent crimes that I have not ‘
Committed so that I will not be taken ju-
nocent and come out guilty. My only t st
of you, Mr. President, and fortunately . Ou
are still president, is to make an, inquiry
about my 7 0-year-old father's phy iIIl and
psychological health and let me know how ‘
he is and where he is being held. I impatiei t-
ly await a reply from your offce.
Tell Me, Where Is My Father?
i espectfufty,
d :h
First-time voter
5a -' c 1
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