Broken Silence: A True Story of a Sixteen Year Old‘S Captivity in Evin…Iran’S Most Feared Prison!

By Kathy A. Taheri

A 16 year old girl is taken away from her mother's dying bed at the hospital by four armed Iranian government agents. She is arrested and held captive in Irans most feared prison, Evin. This begins her agonizing journey through life. As a political prisoner, her crimes are reading books that the Iranian government deems banned and supporting opposition parties that openly criticize the regime for violating basic human rights. She is being terrorized for her belief that regardless of race, gender, belief system, religion, and social and financial status, people should be free to live life without restraint or fear of retribution.

This is a true story. The young girl has big dreams and an even bigger heart. The girl loves school and has an unquenchable thirst for learning. The girl thinks she can change the world, and wants to speak for those who could not speak for themselves. As you turn the pages of this book, you will read what marked the most significant chapters in her life starting early in her childhood in Iran to present time living in Canada with her family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 9, 2011
• ISBN: 9781450287753

Kathy A. Taheri

Kathy Taheri is a Certified Professional Coach and a member of The International Coaches Federation, the leading global organization renowned for its recognized credentialing program. Kathy has extensive experience in the personal development field. She is actively involved in designing and delivering workshops as a member of Gaski Performance Group. With a passion for coaching, Kathy leads Gaski’s coaching department. Kathy is also a certified Reiki Practitioner and a member of Canadian Reiki Association. As a true advocate in the philosophy of giving back to society, Kathy is regularly involved in volunteer work with the Alliance Hospice in Canada.

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

PREFACE

Chapter 1 – My Mom:

Chapter 2 - My Family History:

Chapter 3 – 1979 Iran’s Revolution

Chapter 4 - War between Iran and Iraq (1980-1988):

Chapter 5 - The night of my arrest:

Chapter 6 - Events on the first 3 weeks of my imprisonment-And description of my cell:

Chapter 7 - In Evin:

Chapter 8 - Unfolding events on the Day of my Release from Evin:

Chapter 9 - Life after my release from Prison:

My first job as an administrative assistant:

Chapter 10 - Engaged to be married at 19:

Chapter 11 - My pregnancy and the arrival of our first baby:

Chapter 12 - Leaving Iran:

Chapter 13 – In Turkey for 4 months – Moving on to Greece

Chapter 14 - In Greece for 27 months:

Chapter 15 - In Canada:

Chapter 16 – Arrival of our second baby:

Chapter 17 – Building a Career/Finding permanent employment:

Chapter 18 - The break up of my family…My divorce:

Chapter 19 - My personal development journey – Becoming a Life Coach

Chapter 20 - Life today:

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

To start, I would like to thank God for giving me the courage and strength to write this book. I always felt that an extraordinary presence gently held me through this journey. It carried me through the hills and valleys of those painful emotions so this story could manifest at the right place and the right time. What I call God, some people call Universal Intelligence; but it really is not important what we call it. What matters is that I was able to feel its powerful presence during the toughest times of my life though it seemed that I was all alone.

A special thanks goes out to my counselor, coach, editor, mentor and guide, Louise Bailey, without whom I might never have dared to put myself, my family and my life out there in front of millions of people. Louise, thank you for believing in me when I did not believe in myself; for putting up with me when I was not patient with myself; and for going above and beyond the call of duty to keep me on my path and care for me as much as you did. I truly appreciate you in my life and I could not have done this without you.

Also I would like to extend my heartfelt gratitude to a great scholar, artist and writer, Michael Hillsey, who is my editor, my guide and my best friend for supporting me on my path every step of the way. As my editor, you have granted me the wish to write with total freedom and do this using my own voice. And as my best friend and my guide, you have always been an inspiration for me and an amazing source of peace and serenity. Michael, you light up my life and make my world a better place without a doubt.

I would also like to thank my best friend, my business coach and my mentor, Cindy Hillsey, who shared laughter and tears with me throughout this project. To you Cindy, I want to say: I love and appreciate you more than it is possible to express with words here; you have been a source of motivation and drive for me and you have made a huge difference in my life. I am so thankful to have you in my life.

Last but not least I would like to thank my teacher, and mentor, Joe Gaskovski who has taught me to focus on my strengths and to take a forward movement toward my goals in the face of fear and uncertainty. Joe, you have certainly been a positive influence in my life and I thank you for being there for me always.

Throughout the years, I have been blessed with amazing friends who have touched my heart and soul in so many ways. Though I won’t be able to name all of those special people here, I would like to name the two extraordinary people who made a tremendous difference in my life. Zahra and Pari were there for me through the most painful times of my life and I could not imagine my life without them. I want to take this opportunity to extend my deepest love, gratitude and appreciation to those two angels and to each and every one of my friends. I blossomed because they believed in me and loved me unconditionally. They were always there to pick up the pieces each time I fell apart. To all of my incredible friends, my earth angels, I would like to say this: You honor me and I love you with all my heart!

Mostly, however, I want to thank my amazing children, Siavash and Afsheen who have been true joy and blessings in my life and absolutely the best thing that could ever happen to me. Those of us who are parents know that parenthood has its challenges to say the least. As parents we are not always patient and understanding with our children; but one truth remains unshakable and that is our unconditional LOVE towards our children. I want to say to my two wonderful sons, that I have always loved you with all my heart. With every fiber of my being, I longed to see you two happy and healthy throughout your lives. My life has been worthy of living because of the both of you. I am so very proud of you. I hope you find it in your hearts to forgive me for what I was and was not supposed to say; what I was and was not supposed to do and for what I was and was not supposed to be as a mother. I don’t feel that I have been able to give you everything you deserved except my undying love and appreciation. If I had a chance to start all over again and to choose my children, I would still choose the two of you; but this time I would work harder to become a more patient and understanding mother so as to deserve such miraculous treasures in my life. No matter where I am and what I am doing, you are both with me; in my heart and my mind and I cherish every moment that we have spent together as a family. I love you both more than life itself.

I would also like to thank my parents and my brothers and sisters who have always made me feel loved and cared for. Though we had different outlooks of life and might not have seen eye to eye in many cases, I always knew they would be there for me if and when I needed them. Thank you all for your endless love, patience and support.

PREFACE

After almost three decades I finally found the courage to tell my story. Many times I was tempted to give up on this book all together. I knew writing my story would mean reliving the most painful times of my life; and I was not sure if I could ever be ready for that. I was tempted to leave the past in the past, so to speak, and not to bring up the unpleasant memories I had tried so hard to forget for decades. Ironically, my life up to this point was a proof that one cannot leave the past in the past unless they have dealt with it properly. While this inner struggle was going on, a loud and powerful voice inside me kept this desire alive. It was as though I could not move on with my life and heal my wounds unless I acted upon this desire. As I went on ignoring my gut feeling in this regard, I felt cowardly and shameful. I did not realize that perhaps the time was not right for me to undertake such strenuous task.

As days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years, I finally felt that the time was right to tell my story. It was then when I realized that I had actually picked the perfect time to share my story with the world. I intuitively knew that the purpose of this book had to unfold before me so I could start writing. I sensed that I could not turn this desire into reality when fear was still running my life. And when I was still imprisoned in my self-made prison of shame, anger, blame, resentment, judgement, guilt and despair. All those years, I was nowhere near the space I needed to be to undertake such a worthy and complex project. I lived in constant fear that if I ever got experienced true happiness that would all be taken away from me. It felt safer just to stay unhappy; at least such pain and misery was familiar to me.

I had no self-love, self-esteem, or self-respect. The scars I carried inside of me were so big that I was unable to function properly. I felt like a person whose spirit had left her body long ago, and indeed that was true. Many times when I was alone, I spoke with God and asked why my life was spared in prison. I wondered if I had done something wrong, perhaps in my past life, and I was reborn to be punished for it. I wondered why everything and everyone that meant something to me was taken away from me so violently.

I often cried, thinking that God must be asleep because he was not talking to me. It never occurred to me that perhaps I have stopped listening; or perhaps my heart was not open to receive him. It never occurred to me then that this could be part of a bigger plan the universe had in store for me. Could it be that I appeared in this world, was born in Iran, and into my family to fulfill a much greater purpose than I could grasp at the time?

It took couple of decades of pain and agony before I was able to change my outlook of life and see the big picture. Thereafter, I was able to see clearly my responsibility to speak up, break my silence, and share my sorrowful experience with the world. I heard somewhere that the best way to predict the future is to create it. That phrase resonated with me for I truly believe that as I changed my outlook of life and stopped being a victim, I started to take an active part in creating my own destiny. My new outlook provided me with the conviction I needed to see this project through. I finally understood that what made me a victim was not so much the circumstances of my life, but how I responded to them. With this new discovery, I became more determined to share my story. I could not stand the thought of another human being giving up on their dreams. I felt that if sharing my experience can help even one person to break free of their victim mentality, then the emotional roller coaster ride of this project will have been worth it.

And here is how my story began. It all started at the age of 16 when four armed government agents came to pay me a visit at my mom’s hospital bed. I was arrested that night and taken away from my mother and my family and unjustly held captive in Iran’s most feared prison, Evin. This was the beginning of my agonizing experience. Life as I once knew it changed forever.

As a political prisoner, my crime was reading books that the Iranian government deemed banned and supporting opposition parties that openly criticized our regime for violating basic human rights. Even as a teenager, the following comments made perfect sense to me: people should be free to choose their own religion; they should be free to examine different schools of thought by reading books or newspapers of their choice; they should be able to express their opinion on issues that directly impact the quality of their lives without fear of retribution; that women should not lose their children if they decide to divorce their husbands; and they should not have to tolerate staying in abusive relationships because our culture condemned divorce. I believed that regardless of our race, gender, belief, status, and financial power, we all had the right to live without fear and terror. I believed that we all had the right to live with dignity and respect.

This true story is about a young girl with big dreams and even bigger heart. A girl who loved school and had an unquenchable thirst to learn. A girl who freely expressed her thoughts and beliefs; and a girl who wanted to speak for those who could not speak for themselves. As you turn the pages of this book, you will hear a bit about my family history and how I grew up. I will then help you see how my life unfolded at the age of 13, after Iran’s revolution, all the way to my imprisonment, my first job, my marriage, my first born, leaving my country and my life in Canada.

Last but not least, I would like to apologize to my family if they feel offended to some degree by reading this story. I have always loved and respected my family and I have no doubt that they all love me too. However, I feel that disclosing information about my family might seem like a distasteful act on my part. If this is the case, while I appreciate, understand, and respect their point of view on this matter, I want to emphasize that the information disclosed here about my family, has emanated solely from my unique perspective of our family dynamic and my place in it. I am sure each one of us perceives our environment and our family differently; the story of my childhood is only my version of the truth about all of us as a family. When I decided to write this book, I was not planning to write about my family background as I was concerned about how my family would receive that. However, it felt right to provide my readers with little bit of background about my life throughout my childhood and the type of family I grew in so as to assist them in better understanding why my life unfolded the way it did. This book is about my life experience as a child and as an adult and as such I have only depicted information about our family that directly ties into my story.

The opening chapter of this book is about my mom, who passed away many years ago, since she is the main character in my story. She has always lived in my heart and my mind and I always felt that she was watching over me. She held me under her wings through the most challenging experiences of my life and gave me the strength to get up each time I fell. Though I wish she was here with me physically, I know in my heart that she has always been part of my life. Her untimely death shattered our family and though we suffered so much when we lost her, her love and strength kept us alive and well. I don’t believe I quite understood or appreciated her when she was with us, but I certainly believe that I got to know her intimately when she left this world. All I am and all I have is because of my mom. She has lived in my heart and will go on living inside me forever.

My mom is a never-ending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune. (Graycie Harmon)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was well past midnight as we still tossed and turned trying, unsuccessfully, to fall asleep. Deep in a world of our own, we were brought back to consciousness by agonizing hollers from far away. A man was pleading for mercy, begging his assailers to stop beating him. His horrific screams echoed through the hallways. We cringed and trembled as his dreadful cries for help intensified. Panic and anxiety took our breath away.

A sudden shiver took over my body. My heart was pounding as every fiber of my body ached. It was as though I was the one being beaten. Was I going out of my mind, imagining all this, or was this all real?, I thought to myself. Dry-mouth and covered in cold sweat, I crawled in and reached for my friends’ hands. They too, were shaking. None of us had experienced anything like this before. Our muffled cries soon turned into choked whispers as we prayed for the man. We covered our ears, trying helplessly not to be involved in such an appalling encounter.

The heart wrenching screams went on for about ten minutes before they came to a sudden stop. Immobilized by fear, we let out our breath. A deafening silence had pinned us to the floor. Perhaps the man had lost consciousness. The beating had stopped, yet our apprehension had deepened. We now feared he might be dead!

Distraught, we held hands looking for comfort. We were all ears hoping to hear if he was still alive. Each moment felt like an eternity. We had almost lost hope when we suddenly heard a weak cry coming from far away. We sat motionless waiting to hear him again. We could hear a pin drop in our cell. A few endless minutes passed before we could hear a frail moaning. The man’s cries spoke of his excruciating pain. Shortly after, we heard him dragged through the hallways. Perhaps he was not of much use to them now. As his limp body passed down the gloomy hallways, we said our goodbyes tearfully. We felt we had known him for a long time. We never knew who he was or what he looked like. And we never found out what happened to him.

The oppressive silence took Ward 209 under its wings again. Though the commotion had ended, none of us were able to get much sleep. We laid down quietly staring at the ceiling with our eyes wide open, wondering if we could bear such vicious torture. We dreaded our own fate as we cried ourselves to sleep.

We felt invisible. Our survival was threatened. We had been stripped off our dignity, slowly but surely. It was unfathomable to witness such brutality at the hands of those who, in the name of God, acted like trained killers. Fear nibbled us. A profound sadness had fallen upon us. My heart was breaking into pieces. My body trembled. My hands were shaking violently. There was no light at the end of this tunnel. Exhausted, anguished and hopeless, I looked for God everywhere…

Chapter 1 – My Mom:

"No painter's brush, nor poet's pen

in justice to her fame

has ever reached half high enough

to write a mother's name."

(Unknown Author)

******************************************************

My mom was born into a large family. Out of six children she was the third. She was very different from her brother and four sisters in many ways. In addition to her stunning outer beauty, she had a radiant personality and a heart as big as the sky. No one in her family loved books, school or learning as much as she did, and none of her siblings were as free spirited and outspoken as she was. She was a passionate woman who truly believed in serving others and helping disadvantaged people anyway she could. A profession she chose well suited her personality. She became a nurse and a midwife. She gladly volunteered to take on pregnant women from poor families as patients knowing that they could not afford to pay for her services. And if that family was extremely poor, she would help them out in anyway possible without offending the families. To cover babies basic needs, she would purchase clothing, formulas and other necessary items and would take it to them as a gift. And if new moms just had their first babies, she would also take time, free of charge, to educate them on how to take best care of their babies and themselves after the delivery.

She inspired others by just being herself and sharing her love with others. At home she was the special child adored by everyone in her family. My mom was always eager to learn new things and while for some of those skills she had taken classes, mostly she would learn things by just watching others. She was a quick learner and extremely intelligent woman. She learned sewing, knitting, cooking, baking and hair styling after she graduated from university and later on when she was working full time. Even as a mother of five and a wife, she never gave up on her schooling. She continued with her studies until she obtained her masters degree in nursing.

My grandfather loved my mother very much but he had much difficulty keeping her in line. He was an old fashioned, religious man who was totally against women’s education. He especially had a problem with my mom going off to school. She was a very pretty woman and my grandfather thought that she would be corrupted. He associated going to university with becoming out of control and sinful. Consequently, he opposed her every step of the way.

My mother used to tell us that she snuck her books into a small bathroom outside in the backyard and read under the dim light in the cold so that her father did not get on her case. At times, she waited for her father to fall sleep so she could get started on her assignments and school activities. With the help of people who had some influence on her dad, she finally was given permission, very hesitantly, to go to University where she later graduated with a degree in nursing.

My mom used to say, that those days in the university were the best days of her life. But her bachelor degree in nursing was not enough for her. My mom wanted to continue her education in Europe as she dreamed of obtaining her PHD or perhaps studying to become a medical doctor. One of many things I admired about my mom was her passion for learning and education.

My grandfather had different plans for my mom. He wanted to choose a man so she could get married and have children as soon as possible. He did not want to hear any nonsense about further education. My mom knew that this time she was not going to win. She hoped that at least her father would consider her wishes and let her have a say in who she would marry. Given that she was very pretty, my mom had quite a few admirers at the hospital where she worked; among those she was interested in were a couple of doctors who were willing to go to her dad and ask him for her hand in marriage. But my grandfather was adamant that he pick the one that he thought was best for her. Doctors are not good enough for marriage, he would say; they look at naked bodies all day long and I will not hear any more nonsense about this.

So he chose my dad! My grandfather liked my dad a lot and they had a great relationship as son-in-law and father-in-law. My father had come from a well known, wealthy and respected family and he was gainfully employed as