An excerpt from my upcoming book, "Uprising: We are the revolution."
Hadis Najafi
“Preparing for battle”
Hadis Najafi ended her shift at the Takata
Fast Food Restaurant at 5 pm and clocked out. It had been a very busy afternoon
as the lead cashier in one of the most popular cafes in the city of Karaj. The
city of Karaj lay nestled up against the majestic foothills of the Alborz
mountain range, a distance of just six miles from the capital city of Tehran.
Karaj city was a haven for young students studying art and medical science at
Azad University. For Hadis, being a student was not her passion in life. Instead
she was a dedicated “social media geek.” She loved to display the latest
fashions on her Instagram account and treat her fans to Persian dancing on Tik
Tok. Politics and religion didn’t interest her. She spent her money investing
in VPN, to overcome the filtering of the internet, so she could talk to her
friends online every night. The Islamic Republic of Iran along with the help of
the cyber police had blocked the major social media platforms, Facebook,
Twitter, Telegram, You tube, etc. The only way to overcome the government
censorship was to purchase the virtual private network app.
As Hadis left the restaurant and stepped
out onto the sidewalk, she looked carefully in both directions, to see if she
could spot the Morality Police Van and then ripped off her hijab and threw it down
on the ground.
“I hate that damn thing!” Hadis muttered
to herself.
This evening, Hadis was not her cheerful
self. She was not in a good mood. The tragic death of Mahsa Amini had tormented
her mind all day. Dealing with impatient customers paying for their meals and
complaining about the prices had pushed her to the limit. She wasn’t in the
mood to listen to them, especially when a young Kurdish girl had been beaten to
death by the Morality Police. Hadis had never been outspoken or political, but
tonight was different. Every time she gazed at the picture of Jina Mahsa on her
cell phone, lying comatose in a hospital bed, she couldn’t hold back the tears.
Deep down in her soul, she felt an irresistible urgency to see justice for
Jina. Hadis felt it was her duty to humanity to be Jina’s voice and scream
loudly at the government ‘s unjust murder of an innocent young woman.
Hadis arrived at the bus stop and broke away from the crowd of people
for a few moments. She quickly speed-dialed her friend Farzad.
“Dorood, Farzad (Faris for hi) Chetori?”
(Farsi for, “How are you?”)
“I’m good. You just get off work, Hadis?”
“Yes. I’m on my way home. Listen, I wanted
to tell you. I am going to join the protest tonight. I heard they will be out
on Eram Boulevard.”
”Hadis, are you crazy? You’ve never been
political.”
“I know. I know,” Hadis replied, stepping
onto the arriving bus, “But I have to do this for Jina. I believe we must be
her voice. Women have got to rise up and let this damn government know that we
will not be oppressed anymore. We have the right to wear what we want to wear!”
“Please be careful, dear friend,” Farzad
cautioned Hadis.
Hadis clicked off her cell phone and
relaxed back in her seat, taking a deep breath. Tonight, was Wednesday, September
21. Wednesday was her usual night for doing live Persian dancing for her fans
on Tik Tok, but that would have to be postponed. She would celebrate with her
fans later, but tonight was reserved exclusively for Jina. “Justice for Jina”
was weighing heavily on Hadis’s mind and nothing was going to stop her!
*****************
Hadis walked through the front door of her
home, exhausted, but energized to go back out. She decided to change her
clothes and grab a quick bite to eat before joining the protest. As soon as she entered the kitchen, her mother
noticed her flowing blonde hair draping down over her shoulders and a
frustrated look in her brown eyes.
“Where is your hijab, Hadis? Didn’t you
wear it today? You must be so careful
now these days.”
Hadis flopped down in a chair at the
kitchen table and grabbed an apple to eat.
“I threw that damn thing away. I hate it!’
Hadis answered back while munching on her apple.
Mrs. Najafi sat down at the table across
from Hadis with a worried look on her face.
“Hadis! Don’t say that! You worry me! Look
what happened to that Kurdish girl just last week!”
Hadis sat down the apple in front of her
and stared back intently at her mother.
“That’s why I threw my hijab away, mom. I
did it for Jina. I did it for every Iranian girl. We are tired of being
oppressed and told what to do!” Hadis shouted back, banging her fist on the
table.
Mrs. Najafi sat quietly and took a nervous
deep breath. There was no arguing with her daughter. She was much too free-spirited
and independent. Hadis quickly stood up from the table and dabbed her lips with
a napkin.
“I must go out tonight, dear mother. There
is going to be a protest on Eram Boulevard. I need to go for Jina.”
Mrs. Najafi rubbed her hand across her
forehead and bowed her head in fear for a few moments. Then she stood up and
hugged Hadis.
“I understand Hadis. But I am so worried. I
am so afraid. It is so dangerous.”
Hadis gave her mother a reassuring look
and kissed her softly on the forehead.
“I must do this, mom. I will be careful. I
promise I won’t stay out very long.”
Hadis left the kitchen and hurried into
her bedroom. She quickly changed into a pink tank top and put on a fresh pair
of blue jeans. She flopped across her bed and turned on her cell phone. The
first picture that appeared was that of Jina Mahsa Amini, sitting in her living
room last year, in front of a chocolate cake, celebrating her 22nd
birthday. Hadis smiled. It was one of the happier moments for Jina. Hadis was
also 22 years old, just like her hero, who was cruelly murdered just a week
before her 23rd birthday. Tears filled her eyes. She blew a kiss
toward the picture on her cell phone screen.
“Tonight, I will be your voice, dear Jina
and I won’t stop shouting until you get justice!”
***************
“Death to the dictator! Woman, life
freedom!”
The angry loud shouts of protesters
filled the cool night air on Eram Boulevard.
It was just a few minutes before 8 pm as Hadis turned on her cell phone.
She aimed the camera toward the protesters filling the streets. Just up ahead
she noticed a bonfire in the center of the street and watched several women setting
their headscarves on fire. Running swiftly toward the scene, Hadis began
narrating the live video she was creating for her friends.
“This is a scene of women burning their
hijabs,” Hadis shouted out loud in laughter. “You go girls!”
In the distance she heard sirens and more
angry shouts of protesters chanting. Tonight, she felt energized and unafraid.
She had never been to a protest before. Hadis remembered back to 2019 when more
than 1500 peaceful protesters were gunned down in the streets. At that time,
she vowed to never be political and just mind her own business. But all of that
suddenly changed with the death of Jina. Tonight was personal. Tonight, she had
to make a stand for the women of Iran. She regretted for being so selfish and
passive a few years ago, but that had all changed.
Passing a local hardware store, Hadis
paused, catching her breath and spoke directly into her cellphone continuing to
film the protest.
“I hope in a few years, when I look back,
I will be happy everything has changed for the better. I like to think that
when I think back about this a few years later, I’ll be pleased that I joined
the protest.”
A few women, following close behind her,
began chanting, “Woman, life, freedom.” They were carrying signs with a picture
of JIna Mahsa Amini. At the bottom of the sign, it read, “We are all Mahsa.”
Hadis was excited to see that that two young men were in the crowd of women
chanting along with them. It was so encouraging for her to see men involved in
the uprising and defending the rights of women.
Suddenly, the sounds of security forces
yelling for protesters to halt or they would shoot, startled Hadis. Beads of
sweat began rolling down her face. She took an angry deep breath and vowed once
again to not be afraid. Putting her cell phone in her pants pocket, Hadis stood
still for a moment. She tied back her blonde hair into a ponytail and twisted a
rubber band around it to hold it into place. An exhilarating feeling of courage
surged through her body. Tying back her hair was like preparing for battle.
Tonight, Hadis was making a bold statement to the government that she refused
to comply with the man-centered Hijab Law. This was her hair, her body, and no
man had the right to control it or tell her what to do.
The security forces began clashing with the
protesters and beating some in the heads with their batons. Instead of cowering
in fear, Hadis closed her eyes and in her mind’s eye, she remembered back to
her favorite movie, “Braveheart.” She could see the chilling scene, where
William Wallace was laying across a torture rack and the King pleading with him
to recant and beg for mercy. She smiled, remembering the famous last shout from
William Wallace’s lips, when he screamed, “Freedom!”
The first shot terrified Hadis! She
clutched her abdomen in excruciating pain. A barrage of shots immediately
followed the first one, sending frightened protesters scrambling for cover.
Hadis collapsed backwards on the hard pavement, struck by five more bullets in the
neck, chest, and face. The beautiful blonde freedom fighter lay dead on the
street in a massive pool of blood. She had made her courageous last stand on
Eram Boulevard in the city of Karaj, unafraid and unashamed to die as a martyr
for freedom in the never-ending struggle against the gender apartheid in Iran.
*****************
A few days after her tragic death, a video
surfaced showing a young woman tying back her blonde hair and preparing to join
the protest in Karaj. The video was attributed to Hadis, just seconds before
she was fatally shot. Although there is some controversy concerning the video
being actually that of Hadis, nevertheless, it had been unanimously attributed
to her as showing the final seconds of her life.
Security forces refused to hand over
Hadis’s body to her family at the hospital until they signed a pledge stating
that she died of natural causes. Devastated over her tragic death, a family
member, who was a member of the Basij (Iranian paramilitary) was finally
granted permission to make a formal identification of the body. He verified
that it was indeed Hadis and was horrified upon examination, that she suffered
at least 20 gunshot wounds in her body at very close range.
Mrs. Najafi, even though being warned by
security not to speak publicly about her daughter’s death, declared, “My
daughter was murdered for hijab, for Mahsa Amini. She wanted to keep Masha’s
name alive. Mahsa is also my daughter and all those killed are my children. She
died for Mahsa. She sacrificed herself for Mahsa.”
Shortly after her death, Hadis’s sisters,
Afsoon and Shirin, published her photos and told people that she was shot,
defying the government ban.
*****************
Reflection
Hadis Najafi,
bravely took to the streets, understanding the great risk, and proudly declared
her right as a woman, to display her beauty, rejecting the mandatory Hijab Law.
She died for the right to choose, the freedom to say no to a dictatorship
government. In the last seconds of her life, she spoke up for Mahsa Amini and
all Iranian woman, when she tied back her hair and faced the firing squad.
Jesus proclaimed in John 10:10:
“The thief does not come except to
steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and
that they may have it more abundantly.”
For more than 40 years, The Iranian people, especially women, have suffered greatly at the hands of a corrupt and controlling government. They have had their dignity stolen, their freedom suppressed, and their lives destroyed by satanic forces. Jesus, as the good shepherd, who desires to gently lead and guide us, declares that the thief of our souls, Satan, has as his core mission to kill and destroy us. In contrast, Jesus promises to protect and provide for his people. His mission is to bring us life and life to the fullest. He came to bring you true hope and freedom. He promises to remove the shackles of your oppression and give you a life filled with meaning and purpose.
