Sexual assault is the worst form of domestic violence. I speak from experience and deeply feel for anyone who has gone through this horrible act. unfortunately most victims are not believed, which makes it even more hurtful. It is even worse when one has to be killed for resisting sexual assault. it says a lot about how sick our society has become.
As the year draws to the end, I thought we should reflect upon the rights of
our children. I say this because I can’t seem to shake the bad taste in my
mouth brought by recent news stories that continue to dominate the media about
the abuse of our children. In December 23, 2011, there was this story in the
media about a mother who send her eight year old daughter into prostitution. An
eight year old? Some of you must be wondering. Yes, indeed. The Huffington post
ran a story about a Florida Mom, who
allegedly offered up her 8-year-old daughter for prostitution. According to
Panama City Police Sgt. Jeff Becker, Mims was at a Panama City business when
she approached a random male stranger and offered her daughter to him for $100.
Mims allegedly told the man that her daughter "would do anything the male
wanted and would not tell anyone about it." God bless the man who
displayed moral maturity by immediately reporting the incident to police. As
Renee Willoughby, the executive board president of the Gulf Coast Children's Advocacy Center,
has correctly observed, "Everyone is horrified that this happened in our
community, but, unfortunately, it is something that happens somewhere every
day. It is just beyond words."
When trusted people in our society fail us, they should receive the
ultimate punishment. Priests should be dismissed from their priestly roles while
parents should be denied the opportunity to be a parent. If we cannot count on
the most trusted members of our society – parents, pastors, Imams, Rabbis and
other religious leaders – then our society needs to be refurbished. Those with the spine to stand for humane
values ought to do it to protect our society. It is for this reason I write to implore our
readers, especially religious leaders to advocate and protect our children. I
believe my readers can do something to protect all children everywhere as well.
If you see or suspect something is going on, do not dismiss it. Voice it!!
Remember, where there is smoke, there often fire. Our children look upon us.
Let’s not let them down. Enjoy your
happy holidays and I wish you all a prosperous, moral new year.
What was more heartbreaking was the hunging of a woman in Iran for killing
a supposedly rapist. No one knows the truth in this situation. All I can say is
that if she was killed for defending herself from a rapist, then our morals are
upside down. The devil is always in the details. I have learnt never to discount words of anyone who cries rapist. I couldn’t help but read carefully her
last words; her last wishes in life. Read for yourself.
"Dear Sholeh, today
I learned that it is now my turn to face Qisas (the Iranian regime's law of
retribution). I am hurt as to why you did not let me know yourself that I have
reached the last page of the book of my life. Don’t you think that I should
know? You know how ashamed I am that you are sad. Why did you not take the
chance for me to kiss your hand and that of dad?
The
world allowed me to live for 19 years. That ominous night it was I that should
have been killed. My body would have been thrown in some corner of the city,
and after a few days, the police would have taken you to the coroner’s office
to identify my body and there you would also learn that I had been raped as
well. The murderer would have never been found since we don’t have their wealth
and their power. Then you would have continued your life suffering and ashamed,
and a few years later you would have died of this suffering and that would have
been that.
However,
with that cursed blow the story changed. My body was not thrown aside, but into
the grave of Evin Prison and its solitary wards, and now the grave-like prison
of Shahr-e Ray. But give in to the fate and don’t complain. You know better
that death is not the end of life.
You
taught me that one comes to this world to gain an experience and learn a lesson
and with each birth a responsibility is put on one’s shoulder. I learned that
sometimes one has to fight. I do remember when you told me that the carriage
man protested the man who was flogging me, but the flogger hit the lash on his
head and face that ultimately led to his death. You told me that for creating a
value one should persevere even if one dies.
You
taught us that as we go to school one should be a lady in face of the quarrels
and complaints. Do you remember how much you underlined the way we behave? Your
experience was incorrect. When this incident happened, my teachings did not
help me. Being presented in court made me appear as a cold-blooded murderer and
a ruthless criminal. I shed no tears. I did not beg. I did not cry my head off
since I trusted the law.
But
I was charged with being indifferent in face of a crime. You see, I didn’t even
kill the mosquitoes and I threw away the cockroaches by taking them by their
antennas. Now I have become a premeditated murderer. My treatment of the
animals was interpreted as being inclined to be a boy and the judge didn’t even
trouble himself to look at the fact that at the time of the incident I had long
and polished nails.
How
optimistic was he who expected justice from the judges! He never questioned the
fact that my hands are not coarse like those of a sportswoman, especially a
boxer. And this country that you planted its love in me never wanted me and no
one supported me when under the blows of the interrogator I was crying out and
I was hearing the most vulgar terms. When I shed the last sign of beauty from
myself by shaving my hair I was rewarded: 11 days in solitary.
Dear Sholeh, don’t cry for what you are hearing.
On the first day that in the police office an old unmarried agent hurt me for
my nails I understood that beauty is not looked for in this era. The beauty of
looks, beauty of thoughts and wishes, a beautiful handwriting, beauty of the
eyes and vision, and even beauty of a nice voice.
My dear mother, my ideology has changed and
you are not responsible for it. My words are unending and I gave it all to
someone so that when I am executed without your presence and knowledge, it
would be given to you. I left you much handwritten material as my heritage.
However, before my death I want something from
you, that you have to provide for me with all your might and in any way that
you can. In fact this is the only thing I want from this world, this country
and you. I know you need time for this. Therefore, I am telling you part of my
will sooner. Please don’t cry and listen. I want you to go to the court and
tell them my request. I cannot write such a letter from inside the prison that
would be approved by the head of prison; so once again you have to suffer
because of me. It is the only thing that if even you beg for it I would not
become upset although I have told you many times not to beg to save me from
being executed.
My kind mother, dear Sholeh, the one more dear
to me than my life, I don’t want to rot under the soil. I don’t want my eye or
my young heart to turn into dust. Beg so that it is arranged that as soon as I
am hanged my heart, kidney, eye, bones and anything that can be transplanted be
taken away from my body and given to someone who needs them as a gift. I don’t
want the recipient know my name, buy me a bouquet, or even pray for me. I am
telling you from the bottom of my heart that I don’t want to have a grave for
you to come and mourn there and suffer. I don’t want you to wear black clothing
for me. Do your best to forget my difficult days. Give me to the wind to take
away.
The world did not love us. It did not want my
fate. And now I am giving in to it and embrace the death. Because in the court
of God I will charge the inspectors, I will charge inspector Shamlou, I will
charge judge, and the judges of country’s Supreme Court that beat me up when I
was awake and did not refrain from harassing me. In the court of the creator I
will charge Dr. Farvandi, I will charge Qassem Shabani and all those that out
of ignorance or with their lies wronged me and trampled on my rights and didn’t
pay heed to the fact that sometimes what appears as reality is different from
it.
Dear soft-hearted Sholeh, in the other world
it is you and me who are the accusers and others who are the accused. Let’s see
what God wants. I wanted to embrace you until I die. I love you.”
Reyhaneh,
1
April, 2014
Message translated by the National Council of Resistance of Iran
(NCRI)
May she rest in peace. To read more about the stories I referenced, visit the following links:
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/middle-east/final-message-of-woman-executed-in-iran-for-killing-attempted-rapist-dear-mum-dont-cry-9820117.html
http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/12/13/us-usa-crime-coach
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/12/23/paul-kunzler-arrested-utah
