Rojina: "A light in the darkness of Turkey."

 

 "It has been a very long and difficult eight years in Turkey as a refugee. Most of the day I am depressed, thinking about all of my friends back in Iran. I miss them so much! I cannot see them or visit them at school. The memories of my childhood have nearly faded away in the chaos of my life! My teenage years have all but been forgotten! I miss the birthday parties with all of my dear friends. I miss not having my own room, where I can relax and be alone. Instead of remembering the few happy times that I had growing up, all I think about every second of every day is, "How will I pay the rent and my bills? There are no jobs for me here. It is like living hell on earth in isolation because of the virus.

    Living in isolation gives me hours to think and ponder about my life. I want to share with you how this all began.......

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    I remember being miserable as an eight year-old child in school. I was forced to read the Quran and pray. I hated wearing the black manteau! It was like a coat that you had to wear which included the scarf or hijab that covered your hair. I hated this clothing! One day I got so furious that I tore off this silly clothing and left school. My teacher chased after me shouting, "Don't do that! You are behaving like a sinner!"

   Life at home was not any easier for me. My mother, Parisa was miserable. She had no peace. She felt lost inside. Her parents had pressured her into reading the Quran and she felt no joy in doing this. My mom had the difficult task of being a single parent after divorcing my father. We were both searching for meaning and purpose in our lives.

    One day our neighbor Roya visited us. She could see the misery and despair in my mother's eyes. Roya was a Christian but because of fearing the government, she was careful not to intrude too much into our lives. She knew we were Muslims. However that memorable day, she decided to reach out to us. Roya recommended that we watch Mohabat TV. Mohabat TV was a Christian channel beamed into Iran on the satellite. It featured programs about the Bible and Jesus. She also gave my mom a Persian New Testament and asked to her to read it. She agreed.

    One night my Mom had an incredible dream. In her dream she was visited by Jesus. He burned a symbol of the cross on her arm and said, "This is going to be painful. Being a Christian will not be easy!"

    Parisa woke up frightened. Beads of sweat were rolling down her cheeks. When she gazed at her left arm, she panicked! There was a burn spot on her arm just like in the dream!

    She immediately showed her arm to Roya and Roya took a picture of it. She sent it to her pastor. A few days later the Pastor visited our home and prayed for my mom. That was the day that she accepted Christ as her savior and became a Christian.

     I immediately recognized the dramatic change in my mother's life. She was no longer angry. As a Muslim she was always angry and never happy, but now she was calm. Her change in behavior was like heaven for me! The Pastor gave me a children's Bible and instructed me to read the story of Jesus. I remember how different Jesus was compared to Mohammed. Jesus was kind and compassionate. As a Muslim, all I ever remembered was anger and violence. I never knew what true love was. One story in the gospels made a big impact on my life. The night before his crucifixion when the soldiers came to arrest Jesus, Peter becomes angry and cuts off the ear of Malchus, one of the servants of the High Priest. However Jesus rebuked him and instead healed the servant's ear. I was so impressed by the kindness that Jesus showed his enemies! This story touched my heart and changed my life! At the age of eight years old, I asked Jesus into my heart and became a Christian!

    After becoming a Christian, one of the first things I wanted to do was to share how Jesus changed my life with my friends at school. However my mother warned me not to do it. For a Muslim to change their religion in Iran is very serious. They can be imprisoned or put to death. . I was so excited about my new found faith and I wanted to tell everyone! As soon as I got home from school, I turned on the Christian music. I played it loud. It filled my heart and mind with so much joy. One of my favorite hobbies is painting. I would make paintings of the cross and decorate the walls of my room with them! For the first time in my life, I was so happy!

    However, my happiness ended whenever I entered through the doors of the school. I was so frustrated that I could not share my faith with my friends.I had to pretend that I still liked Islam and wear that stupid hijab! One day I told my teacher that I couldn't take it anymore. I explained to her that I was now reading the Bible. The teacher was astonished and immediately contacted my Mom. She warned her that I must change my behavior or else be expelled from school! My mom took me aside and gently persuaded me to be patient and to obey my teacher. I reluctantly agreed. I was a straight A student at school. I excelled in all of my studies, but the day the teacher found out that I was reading the Bible, she began lowering all of my grades to a C. The living waters of happiness that I had found in Jesus was slowly drying up from the persecution at school.

    I will never forget one of the darkest times of my life. When I was 11 years old I was sexually abused. 

    My Uncle had a friend who was a math teacher. He would often come over to our home. He knew that I was struggling in school. So he offered to help me with math and my mother agreed. He was a Muslim and knew that we were Christians, but seemed not to be offended or disturbed by our faith. Whenever my mom left me alone at home, this Muslim man would instruct me in my studies. However, for a solid year, he did more that tutor me in math!. He began touching me, putting his hands all over my body. I was terrified! I didn't know what to do! He would stare intently into my eyes and warn me, "If you tell your mother, I will report you to the government!"

    All I knew how to do was to pray and cry out to Jesus...and Jesus answered my prayer!

    We loved meeting with other Christians in our home. We were part of a house church movement meeting secretly for fear of the government. We played our music loud in celebration and raised our voices loudly in prayer at every meeting. One day the police came to our house while we were on vacation. Fortunately we were not there. When we returned home, our pastor told us that we must immediately leave and go to Turkey. We were in danger of being arrested. Instead of going to Turkey, my mom took us to a small town named Miandoab where we hid out from the government for a year and a half. It was then that I realized that Jesus had answered my prayer. He had allowed the police to come to our house so we had to move. When we moved, the sexual abuse ended. It was the last time I would ever see that Muslim man. I was finally safe and protected. The nightmare had ended!

    In 2013, we finally moved to Turkey after an undercover agent came to our home looking for my mother. We sold everything that we had and left our homeland. It is so sad to say good bye to the people that you love just to find freedom. We lived for two months in Istanbul with my mother's friend Afsaneh. As refugees, we were prohibited from getting jobs, so my mother secretly opened up a bakery at home and began selling delicious pastries to all of the Iranian tourists. We desperately needed a place to live and one of my mother's friends connected us with an Iranian man. The Iranian man agreed to help us find a place. This was one of the worst mistakes that we ever made. This man became controlling and abusive. He demanded money from us for the rent, groceries and bills. It was like living back in Iran. Then one day, he tried to sexually abuse me. Horrible memories of abuse flooded my mind from when I lived back in Iran. He tried to kiss me but I resisted. He even tried to sexually abuse my mom. We quickly packed up our few belongings and left!

  A year after living in Turkey my mother received her first interview with the UNHCR in Ankara. Her interviewer was a Muslim woman. For five or six hours, my mother explained why she became a Christian. She shared with her the incredible dream and how Jesus had changed her life forever. Unfortunately she was rejected. The interviewer didn't believe her story. We found out later that unless we had documents about our baptism that the immigration board would continue to reject us.

    Living in Turkey as refugees was extremely difficult. Struggling to provide money for rent and food and waiting forever to be interviewed took a toll on us emotionally. It was during this time that I spent most of the day praying and gazing at the beautiful gold cross that I proudly wore around my neck. I was comforted whenever I gazed upon the cross. However, wearing my cross necklace in public brought much conflict and persecution to me. I was harassed by many young Muslims, but I refused to hide or cover up my necklace. I loved Jesus. I was unashamed to wear it. I told every person that I met that, "This is who I am. I am a Christian. I love Jesus! One day while at the shopping market, the owner saw the cross around my neck and threw me out of his store. He scolded me and said,

    "You are a sinner. You need to return to islam. You are going to hell!"

      I was never afraid to share my faith In Jesus. I would always look at my cross and proclaim, "Jesus is with me all of the time. I have no fear."

    This personal declaration of faith that "Jesus was always with me" proved to be an incredible reality that saved my life!

    In 2018, I was finally offered a job in a hotel working as a translator, selling suites to customers. I waited for hours to speak with the manager. It was almost 2 am in the morning. I had no way home and there were no taxis. Finally the manager appeared and offered to drive me home. I sat in the back seat. I remembered feeling very nervous. Something didn't feel right. Something was wrong. A few minutes later, he pulled the car over and asked me to sit in the front seat next to him.

    I said, "No," feeling uneasy and afraid. "Are you scared?" he asked me.

    A few minutes passed by and he forced me into the front seat next to him. I was terrified. My mind was filled with the horrible memories of being sexually molested years ago in Iran.

  "Are you a Christian?" He asked me, "Don't you ever have sex?"

  My whole body was trembling. I grabbed my cell phone, but couldn't get a signal to call my mom. "No I don't have sex," I replied, my voice trembling, "That's a sin before marriage."

    I looked down at my necklace and nervously began praying, mumbling the words, crying out for Jesus to save me!"

    He began to put his hand on my legs, when suddenly his cell phone rang. It was his wife! She demanded to know where he was! His wife became my angel. He finally drove me home and said he would see me again the next day, but I never went back!

                                                 

                                      

    That is my story so far. I turned 22 this year.

    It's been another long day in the city of Yalova, Turkey. Another long day in isolation, but as I think back to when I was eight years old and remember the day that Jesus came into my life, I am no longer depressed. Deep down in my soul I am grateful. I have joy. I know that Jesus is always with me. He will never leave or forsake me. He has a special purpose for my life. I am holding onto my faith in Jesus. I can honestly confess to you that if I wasn't a Christian I would have ended my life a long time ago. But thank God, I didn't. In the midst of turmoil, I have peace. I have peace because I know God has a purpose and plan for my life. He has made me a light in the darkness of Turkey.

    

Leila Hassanian: "Waiting to die in Turkey."

 

  My name is Leila Hassanian: I was born into a tribal family in the southern part of Iran. I was the second child of parents who had been waiting for many years for the birth of a son. My birth disappointed them. My father was the eldest son of the tribal family. He was desperate for the birth of a male child in order to carry on the family legacy and establish his name.

    "No one was happy with my birth. Even my own grandparents were sad."

    It wasn't until four years later that they were blessed with a birth of a son. That's when the celebration began and the dark clouds of sadness were lifted from their lives. During my childhood and adolescence, all of the family attention was focused on my brother and no attention was ever given to the girls.

    At the age of 20, I became the victim of a forced marriage. My father chose my husband and my marriage was a disaster from the very beginning. My husband was not pleased with me. Very soon afterwards we fled to Turkey to become refugees and that's when my life became almost unbearable! There was no love and communication in our marriage. I couldn't get a job and I suffered day and night under the harsh control of my husband. I became very depressed and although I sought counseling and therapy for relief, I couldn't find any help. Unable to sleep at nights because of the stress, I began taking sleeping pills. The Immigration office refused to give me any help for my marital problems and so one night I escaped to Ankara.

    I applied for a divorce at a court in Ankara and after a week, the Immigration office deported me back to the same city that my husband was living in. They detained me and placed me in a larger central detention center where I suffered miserably for 60 days. I could not prove to the courts that my life was in danger if sent back to Iran and so I am currently in danger of being deported.

    I have no ID cards, no interviews with the UNHCR, no human rights in Turkey, and I am forced to work 12 hours a day earning only $1.00 an hour! While I'm at work, I am the constant target of sexual and psychological harassment from men.

    

    However in the midst of all of the darkness and despair, I have found hope in Jesus. I am busy studying the Christian faith with other Iranian-Christians. For the first time in my life, I have a real peace in my heart. Please pray for me and be my voice. If I'm deported back to Iran, they will deal harshly with me as a Christian. I will surely be imprisoned for the rest of my life.

   "Be my voice in Turkey. I don't want to die!"

Afsaneh: Forty years a slave to Sharia

 

    A young girl or woman living in Iran in the 21st century will quickly understand what it means to be a second class citizen. She has experienced the true meaning of disgrace and humiliation in a country where her value has been reduced to the size of man's left testicle.

    My name is Afsaneh Rostami and I am that woman! I am 40 years old struggling to survive with hopes and dreams for my son's future. I am a single mother with the difficult task of raising him all alone in a male-dominated culture without any support from my family.

    I have been fighting my entire life against a corrupt system of "anti-woman Sharia laws" that devalues and disgraces a woman and treats her like a sexual slave. The longer that I live, the more that I realize that there is no hope in the darkness. My family forced me to marry at an early age and I had a child when I was just a young teenager. Very soon afterwards I was divorced not understanding the true meaning of love and marriage. My family separated me from my son declaring that I was unfit to raise him. For eight long years I was prevented from seeing him because of my gender under existing Islamic law.

    I had to escape in order to find hope and freedom. I stayed awake every night crying because I was unable to hold my son in my arms. Desperate and afraid, I escaped from my family who wanted to kill me because I didn't fit the role model of an Islamic woman.

    "I have not lived for 40 years. I have been miserable and unhappy. I have not danced for 40 years. I am tired......"

    I finally arrived in Turkey to seek refuge in a safe country but my pain has doubled since my arrival. I have no income so I had to find a job, but unfortunately refugees are not allowed to work in Turkey. They are prohibited from obtaining a work permit. When the Turkish police discovered that I had a job on the "black market" I was arrested and my residence card was revoked. After living in Turkey for eight years, the government has given me a deportation notice despite being accepted by the UNHCR. If I am deported back to Iran the government will execute me because I am political activist.

    Iran was once a civilized country but with the Islamic Invasion centuries ago and the Revolution in 1979 that caused the Shah to be exiled, now my beloved Persian nation is filled with death, destruction, and poverty. When the Shah was in power, the face of Iran was changing into a western secular nation that had gender equality and freedom. But when Khomeini seized power, Iran was transformed into a theocratic nation with the iron-fisted rule of Islamic Mullahs. They have suppressed our freedom-seeking heroes, scientists, and educators, silencing their voices. The government is killing our youth out in the streets because of their peaceful protesting. They are imprisoning and executing our sons, our daughters, and our young women, simply because they want freedom and the right to make choices.

    Now that you've read my story, I only have one request of you. Please be my voice! If I am deported, I will no longer have a voice. For forty years, I have struggled and fought in a culture that hates freedom and hates women. I haven't danced in 40 years. Please be my voice so that I can dance again!

"A Lion in Persia: The assassination of Dr. Ardeshir Hosseinpour."

 

           

           The bright rays of sunrise gently peeked across the horizon in the city of Shiraz, Iran. Sara awoke early as was her custom and grabbed her cell phone from off the table next to her bed. She speed dialed her husband’s number and then patiently waited for him to pick up.

            No answer…her call went into voice mail.

            Sara dialed once again, now sitting up in bed, anxious for her husband to answer. Ardeshir should have been up by now, preparing to dress and head out to his class at the university to teach.  He had a very predictable routine and Sara knew it by heart. They had only been married for just twenty-five days after being in love for a year and a half. Her teacher and class professor had gone from being her university sweetheart to her young and handsome husband.

            Once again, no answer…. her second call went into voice mail.

            By now, Sara was feeling frustrated and a little worried. If she had been with him at their new apartment, the night before, calling him on the cell phone would have been unnecessary. Ardeshir had insisted that she remain at home with her sick father and Sara reluctantly agreed.

            As she threw on some clothes in a haste, Sara continued calling her husband, and still there was no answer. Maybe he overslept, or maybe there was problems with the cell phone or the wifi. Their new apartment was in disarray. Many items still remained unpacked and sleeping on the floor had become a routine until they both managed to find the time to purchase a new bed to sleep on.

            The phone continued to go into voice mail.

            Sara was now fully dressed. As she stood in front of the mirror to adjust her hijab, she could feel her heart racing in her chest. She remembered back to the last conversation that they had together. Ardeshir mentioned that he was supposed to meet with two men to discuss some scientific issues. The meeting would take place later that night at their apartment. She grabbed her purse and class books and paused at the front door, taking a deep breath. It was only a ten-minute drive from her father’s house to their apartment. Sara phoned for a taxi. She decided to go first to the university. Ardeshir would most certainly be there for the early morning 8 am class. His students would be waiting inside for him.

            Arriving at the university, Sara quickly entered through the front door. She immediately noticed that the students had gathered in the hallway impatiently waiting for Ardeshir’s arrival.

            Sweat rolled down Sara’s cheeks. Fear gripped her heart. She began running toward their apartment that was only ten minutes away from the university. Upon arriving, she nervously inserted the key into the lock of the front door.

            “Ardeshir, Ardeshir,” She nervously cried out as she continued to twist the key into the lock.

            The door finally opened and immediately she was greeted with a blast of hot air in her face.

            The first thing she noticed was the roar of the furnace running on its highest setting. Sprawled out in front of the bedroom door was Ardeshir covered up to his neck in a blanket. It was highly unusual for Ardeshir to be sleeping with a blanket over himself and the furnace turned up on high. He disliked the heat and never slept with a blanket.

            Sara raced over to her husband. He must have overslept and didn’t hear his cell phone ringing. She knelt down beside him and began shaking his body with her right hand.

            “Honey. Honey, wake up, it’s me, Sara. Ardeshir! Ardeshir!”

            Ardeshir didn’t move. He was unresponsive. Sara violently shook him once again.

            “Ardeshir! Ardeshir. Please wake up. Wake up!”

 

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            For the last 14 years, since his mysterious death on January 15, 2007, Mahboobeh Hosseinpour has been a powerful voice for her brother, refusing to accept the government’s official version that Ardeshir’s death was accidental.  The government concluded that his death was the result of gas poisoning and then they invented a number of possible scenarios, including heart disease, a jealous lover, and finally an assassination plot conceived by Mossad and carried out by Israeli spies.

            Mabi ( Maboobeh) refuses to accept any of these scenarios. Instead she has been busy launching a campaign to get the truth of her brother’s death out to the media, but has run into a brick wall of fear and political correctness. The BBC never returned any of her emails and VOA Persian rejected her story for fear of consequences from the Iranian regime. Since Mabi is an activist for regime change in Iran and a loyal supporter of the Pahlavi Dynasty, the media has boycotted her story. They are opposed to women like Mabi who are dedicated to the Shah.   The media understands that accusing Iran of assassinating their top scientist strikes at the heart of the Islamic Republic, exposing them as a cruel and oppressive government. The world cannot and must not know the real story of what goes on behind the iron curtain of the Islamic Republic of Iran!

            In October of 2010, Mabi traveled from Iran to the American Embassy in Nairobi, Kenya. She stayed for 55 days, late into the month of December, pleading with the security officers to contact Washington and put pressure on Iran. She explained the tragic story of how she believed her brother was assassinated because he refused to enrich the uranium stockpile to 20 percent which far exceeded the legal limits.

            “Please contact the State Department and tell them my story. Iran can’t be trusted with their nuclear ambition,” Mabi insisted, “If the United States puts more sanctions on the government, it could lead to another revolution and the people can overthrow this evil regime!”

            Unfortunately, Mabi’s desperate pleas fell on deaf ears. Instead of the Obama Administration putting more tough sanctions on Iran, they had empowered and enriched the Mullahs with more than 150 billion dollars in sanctions relief money in a July 2015 nuclear deal. Obama and Biden had betrayed the Iranian people!  In 2009, they had both refused to listen to the cries of Iranian protesters during the bloody presidential election uprising and now in 2015 they were celebrating a dangerous deal that would eventually allow this evil regime to develop nuclear weapons!

 

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

 

 

            Ardeshir Hosseinpour was born on December 21, 1962 in Tehran during the Yalda Celebration which is the longest night of the year. Iran was a prosperous nation at the time under the leadership of the Shah, Mohammed Reza Pahlavi who had recently implemented important reforms known as the White Revolution, one such reform granting women the right to vote. In 1962, Iran was a very secular and free culture without the oppressive religious restrictions that were to come later. Women were not required to wear a veil when going on publicly and the sexes were not segregated. Life under the Shah was a celebration of diversity and freedom.

            Ardeshir’s name had been specially chosen by his father, Nasrollah to commemorate national pride. The name Ardeshir, literally in Persian means, “holy king.”  Ardeshir’s parents wanted to instill on their children the richness of Persian history pushing back the influences of Islam from the 7^th century. Their family book was “the book of Kings,” written by the famous Persian poet, Ferdowsi, who preserved the Persian language, history, and mythology from being erased by the Arabs.

            From his early childhood, at the age of seven, Ardeshir had aspirations of becoming a scientist. He loved nature and was very concerned about the environment and the diseases that were cutting the short the lifespan of his people. At the time of the Revolution in 1978, Ardeshir was 16 years old and busy pursuing his scientific endeavors. His mind was not occupied with Khomeini and his vision for a new Iran. Instead he was concentrating on mathematics and physics. He had a vision to transform the environment of Iran and construct a pipe system for irrigation changing the desert into a forest eco system.

            Aredeshir’s early life was filled with outstanding achievements. By the age of 19 he had earned the highest degree in Martial arts, the black belt. While serving in the army, he received an award for braveness and leadership. After his tour of duty in the war with Iraq, Ardeshir continued to pursue his educational career by earning four degrees in electronics, engineering, computer, and metalogy. He went on to earn a Master of Science degree in Physics and his Phd in Atomic Physics. His outstanding achievements enabled him to become one of Iran’s top nuclear scientists specializing in uranium enrichment.

            From the time he was recognized as one of Iran’s top nuclear scientists, he had been under government scrutiny and surveillance. Mabi, Aredshir’s sister, explains the various reasons that led to his assassination in 2007.

            “They, the government, was very jealous of his intellect. Ardeshir was a handsome man and for that reason alone, the Mullah’s hated him. They would always complain about him wearing sunglasses, believing that it would tempt women. They complained about his shirtsleeves being too high up on his arms revealing too much skin. This of course is because of the extreme dress code in Iran.”

            However, the number one reason for the government assassinating him was because of his opposition to the Bushehr nuclear site. Ardeshir was invited to tour this site and he spoke out against its usefulness to the government.

            “It’s not useful. It’s not that important. It’s too old and too expensive and not good for national interest.”

            Ardeshir’s objection enraged the government.  When he refused to enrich the uranium to 20% which was beyond the legal limit, this act of defiance sealed his fate. The government hated his moral character. His morality, kindness, and honesty put him at odds with the Mullahs. One of his favorite rituals before teaching class was to quote from the Persian poet, Ferdowsi. He never quoted from the Quran and in the eyes of the government, that act alone was treasonous.

            With tears in her eyes from the years of pain and anguish, Mabi explains what she believed happened on the night of his assassination on January 15, 2007.  Ardeshir received a call while speaking with his wife Sara and was instructed to meet with some important officials alone later on at his apartment. He urged his wife to stay behind and take care of her ailing father. Ardeshir then drove alone back home. Neighbors reported seeing him pacing back and forth on his balcony at 3 am. waiting anxiously for his meeting. Mabi believes sometime later when Ardeshir retired for the night, that government agents climbed atop his apartment building and dropped poisonous pellets down through the chimney. They waited a few minutes and then entered his apartment, turned up the heater, and laid a blanket across his body. They wanted to give the appearance that Ardeshir fell asleep and died as a result of gas poisoning from a malfunction with the heater. However, when the heater was later inspected it was found to be functioning perfectly!

       It’s been ten years since Mabi traveled to Nairobi and urged the officers at the American Embassy to contact the Obama Administration about her brother. She warned them not to trust Iran. Her plea fell on deaf ears. Instead they forged ahead with a disastrous Nuclear deal in 2015 and appeased the Mullahs with over 150 billion dollars in sanctions relief money which they used to finance their terrorism.

        Now Vice President Joe Biden is running for president against Donald Trump. NIAC has already pledged their support behind the vice president and the Islamic Republic of Iran is backing him. If Biden becomes President it will be a disastrous return to appeasing the Mullahs of Iran and a deadly return to the Nuclear deal which will certainly empower them toward the development of a nuclear weapon.

            Mabi has dedicated her life to tell the world the truth about really happened to her brother. She is a passionate human rights activist that is a powerful voice for the plight of all Iranians. Ardeshir must not be forgotten! His story and his legacy must be told to every media outlet around the world. His death must not be in vain. He stood brave and strong against the dictatorship government in Iran to prevent them from developing nuclear weapons. We must do the same!