The Campaign for the Defense of Political and Civil Prisoners, this morning I called my lawyer and we went to District 7 Prosecutor’s Office for execution of my 74 lashes sentence. We passed the entrance gate and I took off my hijab and went to the 1st branch of sentence execution.
The employee of the branch said: “Put on your headscarf to not cause any trouble.” I said: “I’m here to receive slashes for the exact reason, I’m not wearing it.” They called and the officer who executed the sentence came up and said: “Put on your headscarf and follow me.” I said: “I’m not wearing it. The office said: You are not putting it on? So, I will whip you in such a way that you realize where you are, I will also open a new case for you, you can be our guest for another seventy-four slashes.”
Still, I did not wear it
We went downstairs and they had brought some other boys for drinking. The man repeated sternly: ” Don’t I say put it on? but I did not. Two hijabed women came and pulled the scarf over my head, but I removed the scarf and this was repeated several times. They handcuffed me from back and pulled a scarf over my head. We went downstairs, under the ground floor. At the bottom of the parking lot, the judge and the enforcement officer and the woman in a tent were standing next to me. The woman sighed and said: “I know, I know.” The judge laughed in my face and I remembered the man Khanzar Panzeri from Bouffe Koor book, and I turned away from him.
They opened the iron door to the room with cement walls. There was a bed at the end of the room, and there were handcuffs and iron foot bindings on both sides of the bed, with an iron device similar to the base of the canvas that was slightly on the other side. It was a medieval torture chamber.
The judge asked: “Are you okay, madam?” Do you have any problem?” I didn’t answer him as if he didn’t exist. He said, “I’m taking to you, lady.” I didn’t answer again. The executioner said, “Take off your coat.” I hung my coat and scarf from the base of the torture canvas. He said, “Put your scarf on.” I said, “I won’t. You put your Quran under your arm and whip me.” The woman came and said: “Please don’t be stubborn” and pulled the shawl over my head. The judge said: “Don’t hit too hard” The man started to hit my shoulders, my back, my hips, my thighs, my legs, and repeated again, I didn’t count the number of blows again. I read under my breath, “In the name of woman, in the name of life, the garments of slavery were torn, our black night becomes dawn, all the whips become axe.”
When it was over, we came out, I didn’t let them even see that I had pain. They are inferior to it. We went upstairs to the judge who executed the sentence. I took off my scarf at the door. The woman said, “Please put your scarf on.” Still, I did not do it. She pulled the scarf over my head when we entered the judge chamber. The judge said: “We ourselves are not happy about this case, but it is sentence and should be implemented.” I did not answer him. He said: “If you want to live in a different way, you can be outside the country.” I said: “This country is for everyone.” He said: “Yes, but the law must be followed.” I said: “Let the law do its job, we will continue our resistance” We exited the room and I took off my scarf again.