You were both my cousin and milk sister. I remember you from the bottom of my heart. A girl like a diamond. I was a little child, when Safia was executed without a trial. I have been trying to collect Safia’s memoires at the request of my dear friends.
The pen is dry in my hand, it is not able to write all the greatness, endurance and patience of a young girl in the prisons and dungeons of Iran. I contemplate how someone can be able to issue the death sentence for a 19-year-old girl.
Safia was born 1964 into a working-class family. She had promised to complete her education, so that she might find a good job to support her family.
She finished high school with great enthusiasm and wished to go to university. She prepared herself for that aim at the time of the revolution in Iran and Kurdistan. She was an active left oriented member of this movement.
After the establishment of the Islamic Republic, she started working for the underground organization of Komala Party. She was considered one of the activists of the city of Mahabad. Safia worked with a sense of responsibility and enthusiasm.
At the same time she was a very clever student, her political friends remember her as a brave, tireless and determined friend and helper.
During the uprising on August 12, 1983, a group of Komala Peshmergas returned to Mahabad. A war broke out and Safia hurried to help the Peshmerga group decisively.
In this war, many financial and human losses were inflicted on the enemy of the Kurdish nation. The regime was hit hard. Unfortunately, many members and supporters of Komala were identified. Safia was one of them. In the morning of a spring day, Safia had woken up and was getting ready to go to school. She heard a voice on the street, the voice of a scared woman saying: who do you come to arrest?
On that day Safia’s cousin Vahed was at Safia’s house with some of his friends, along with all the leaflets, magazines and medicine. He was one of the Komala Peshmergas and sacrificed his life for his homeland and compatriots later.
The armed forces of the regime knocked at the door. Safia opened the door. The officers said that they were looking for Safia. She immediately surrendered to save the rest of her friends, although she could have escaped.
Safia was imprisoned in Mahabad prison. Her family was not allowed to visit her. Her parents went to Mahabad prison every morning before sunrise, hoping to meet Safia. They were returning home desperately.
Safia’s fellow inmates recounted that Safia was tortured a lot, but her perseverance and determination made her more popular among other prisoners.
One of her friends says: Every time I hear Safia’s name, a happy and shining face appears in front of my eyes.
Her mother always said: “Oh! Safia, my daughter, I do not know how to calm you down. I do not know that your bloody body is buried? What was your guilt? For what guilt did they take you from me? My darling, my sweet daughter! You did not have the opportunity to wear a wedding dress and to cover your face with a red net. They took away my only wish from me. I turned that wish into a red net and put it on the photo frame.”
If you knew Safia and shared friendship with her, you would see her as the sun that gives warmth and light to her friends. A nineteen-year-old girl who had all the majesty and eternity in her soul and heart.
Safia was shot dead on 01/06/1362 Iranian Calendar (23.08.1983) along with three of her friends, Nasrin Paknia, Masoumeh Sarhangi and Maryam Farooqi in the Urmia Sea Prison.
It is recounted that when the four girls were brought to the Sea Prison in Urmia, they were told: you have to take a bath. The girls speculated that the regime’s executioners wanted to execute them.
The smiles, perseverance and determination of these four girls are still legend among many prisoners who have survived that prison.
When Safia’s family was informed of her death, her mother could not believe that she had been executed. Her mother tells them in disbelief to show her daughter’s body. But they only hand over her clothes and told her that she had been buried in Rezvan Cemetery in Urmia.
Safia’s mother, along with several other mothers of the executed, went to Rezvan Cemetery in Urmia. By digging with bare hands, she wanted to open the grave to see if Safia was really buried there. Unfortunately she lost consciousness and could not continue. Her companions filled the grave with the grabbed soil und returned to Mahabad mourning.
Safia’s mother could not believe in her daughter’s death until the day she died. She was always waiting at the door, waiting for Safia to return home. Perhaps she could not accept such a horrible death.
In mourning for her child, her mother has always sung lamentations to comfort her soul:
Break the hand that tormented you
Break the hand that separated you from me
Break the hand that separated your sweet soul from you
My sweet daughter, sleep in peace. I am now alone and no one pays attention to my complaint.
How could they shoot you? My sweet, sweet soul, I will never forget you. Your name and memory will always remain alive and forever in our hearts. You were both my cousin and a sister, a hero and a myth of endurance.
