Women’s rights activist, Shiva Nazar Ahari was arrested on December 10, 2009 and is currently detained in Tehran’s Evin Prison. This is the second arrest for Nazar Ahari after the June presidential election. She was arrested shortly after the election and detained for 100 days of which 30 days were in solitary confinement.
The following is an article written by Shiva Nazar Ahari

When Going to the Bathroom Becomes a Means of Torture!

It must be around 10pm. We’re keeping ourselves busy with the TV. The female guard is shouting again. As always, there’s another fight about going to the bathroom. “We have rights here as prisoners …”, the inmate said. The guard barks in return, “Shut up! Lower your voice…. Shhh!” Tensions start to rise, and the screams and insults of the guard breaks the dead silent of the hallway outside. We all are ears inside the cell, pressing our ears against the small window of the cell door. The sounds are coming from cell 14, and I’m guessing that it is Hengameh (Shahidi’)2s cell. Our eyes are worried, and we look at each other with sadness. Once again, the “bathroom dilemma” and the guard not allowing the prisoners to go…

The guard says, “I’ll take you somewhere where your voice will never be heard again.”
“Do whatever you want, let’s see what you can do”, Hengameh shouts back.
The guard takes her hand (probably), dragging her to somewhere else. A door is closed, and we realize that Hengameh has been taken to solitary confinement. Again, silence dominates. Again, that torturing darkness prevails in the hallways. Kobra3 takes a look at me and Hoori. I am mad. I feel sad for Hengameh and I don`t know what to do. We all decide to write to the warden, and tell him that preventing prisoners from going to the bathroom is a form of torture and we object it.

We want to go to the bathroom, but we are in doubt about switching on the light or not; not out of fear- we just don’t want to argue with the guard. We don’t want to give her the opportunity to insult us. And the silence of the hallways is suddenly filled with her cry, “Didn’t you need to use the bathroom when you were wandering the streets from dawn to dusk?” It stings and hurts me inexplicably. I mumble a curse, and crouch in a corner of the cell, worrying for Hengameh, and what might happen to her.

Several nights before, the same guard had a quarrel with Kobra (my cellmate) over why her bathroom trip had lasted longer than usual, and Kobra was sent to solitary confinement. Are we insane to go to the bathroom more than necessary, or stay there longer than usual? I don’t understand! Is the bathroom a nice, lovely place where someone would want to stay? But the guard says that going to the bathroom has become a recreation for us! Well! It’s good that they at least realize what conditions we’re in – conditions in which going to the bathroom has become “fun”.

The “bathroom hour” dilemma started in mid-Mordad (late August). On that day, a piece of paper was given to us, on which the bathroom times were printed out: 4 times per day. Protests rang out that same day; no one wanted to capitulate to such nonsense. In meetings with the warden, we had reminded him several times that this would be a clear case of torture. How can you forcibly wake someone up at 6 in the morning, and tell them that they have to go to the bathroom, or else they’re not allowed to go until noon?!? Going to the bathroom does not know time!

The warden would promise to solve the problem every time, and yet, when
some of the guards (including that same guard whom we called Miss Boss) were on duty, the prisoners would not dare to switch the lights on… if they did, there would either be a fight, or they would encounter a face that would make them forget why they switched it on in the first place. I read in a report today that Hengameh, during a visit by her mother in prison, has complained about the bathroom issue. Apparently, the stubborn Miss Boss is still giving Hengameh a hard time.

It reminds me of that night, her shouting and screaming about prisoner rights and her voice breaking the silence of the ward. And I remember how sometimes I too had to struggle with the same urge to use the bathroom for 7 or 8 hours, waiting for the morning “bathroom-hour” to come. Just think about it: someone waking you up early in the morning saying that you have to go to the bathroom now or you won’t get to go for another 6 hours!

These days, I can use the bathroom without needing permission, and I don’t have to wait for a long time. It makes me sad when I think of Kobra who is still deprived of the most basic rights of a prisoner 60 days after detention, or Hengameh, or Fariba with her messy hair.
By the way, what is Kobra doing right now?
This translation is a courtesy of the individuals listed below:

Call for Solidarity: Freedom and Gender Equality in Iran
We, thirty members of the Iranian green movement, have translated these three narratives of Iranian women in order to:
1- To celebrate March 8th, the International Women’s Day, calling for gender equality and freedom for Iran.
2- Show our solidarity with all Iranian imprisoned women and those women whose husbands and family members are still in jail.
3- Show our great respect for Iranian women, their courage and constant efforts for democracy and human rights.
We are:
Mehrnoosh J.,  Golnaz B.,  Amir Hossein K.,  Amir Hossein I.,  Pantea E.,  Mahshid K.,  Hossein S.,  Hossein A.,  Sahar G.,  Peyman M.,  Mahshid K.,  Roja B.,  Alireza G.,  Mahsa T.,  Bahareh,  Marzye A.,  Mojtaba S.,  Khashayar X.,  Azadeh A.,  Sepideh S.,  Atefeh Y.,  Yeganeh I.,  Leila T.,  Sulmaz F.,  Ramin R.,  Nahal Sh.,  Yasaman S.,  Mohsen M.,  Ali A, Sohaela S.

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