Remember - Eye to Eye; The Story of Maiming Protesters

"An agent of the Islamic Republic pulled out his weapon from between the bars and deliberately shot me in the face. At that moment when he brought out the weapon, I looked into his eyes. I thought he was trying to scare me and wanted me to run away. But he brought out the weapon and shot in a second." These are the words of Sima Moradbigi, 26 years old, from Boukan, a small town in southern West Azerbaijan. She was born there and gave birth to her little daughter, Javan, there, and took to the streets to protest for a better future for her. Government agents deliberately shot at her. At her and many other protesters during the protests for women, life, freedom, which were at their peak around this time last year. Independent investigations by the Iran Human Rights Organization indicate that at least 138 protesters were directly shot by the suppressive forces. The findings show that shooting at the faces and eyes of protesters was targeted, systematic, and designed. Among the protesters, women were the most targeted by such attacks. Tear gas bullets, paintball bullets, or metal or plastic pellet bullets. The target was the limbs, faces, and eyes of protesters against injustice. Although Ali Khamenei, the leader of the Islamic Republic, claims that all this oppression was inflicted not on the people but on law enforcement forces: "The first thing I want to say is that in these recent events, the law enforcement forces and the Basij were wronged." In the third episode of the "Remember" series, we have gone to the victims of the protests of 1401; protesting citizens who have lost their sight, had their eyes removed, or were severely injured, or citizens like Sima Moradbigi, who was shot with 300 pellets and had to have all the bones in her elbow removed. She recalls the day she was targeted: "It was almost three weeks into the protests. On October 21, like every day, I prepared myself. I remember wearing two thick sweaters that day so that if I got shot, it wouldn't hurt. As a habit, I left Javan with my mother-in-law and joined the protests with my husband. That day was a call to action. The crowd was larger than previous days, and so was the crowd of suppressive forces. It was less than ten minutes before they started shooting at the people. They surrounded the people from three sides. From the pedestrian bridge, from the street with motorcycles, and the alleys were filled with tear gas." Sima Moradkhani recalls: "I immediately fell to the ground. I was bleeding a lot. My hand was completely severed and only held by skin. I hugged my hand and ran. A few meters ahead was an intersection where I would be out of sight. I headed towards it, and one of the residents there sheltered me. I called Sina. Sina took me to the house of one of the doctors in our city. They said my hand had no pulse and was bleeding a lot and needed to be transferred to the hospital quickly, but we were really afraid to go to the hospital. We coordinated with one of the clinics in our city and entered through the back door. My hand had been hit by about 300 pellets. The doctors said they removed about 100 pellets, and now 200 pellets are in your hand. My elbow joint was completely removed, and I had a splint with me 24 hours a day. I was hospitalized for fifteen days and underwent three surgeries." The injured are not just one or two people. Hundreds were targeted by the government's bullets. Many of them were shot from a distance of one or two meters. Sima lost her hand, and many lost their sight forever. People like Ali Delpasand, who depicts the day he was shot: "That day, I was with my family. We were in the car, honking and signaling victory with our hands, joining the people. We were on Dilman Boulevard. They had blocked the roads. We took a detour. We got stuck in traffic. Two motorcyclists came from the opposite lane and shot at me. After the shooting, I didn't realize anything. According to my wife, she saw the two motorcyclists go ahead, stop, and laugh! They were laughing. Both in Ali Delpasand's account, from the protesters who were shot in the Golasar neighborhood of Rasht, and in many other accounts, the agents who shot directly with the intent to maim, blind, and incapacitate protesters laughed after the direct shooting. Ghazal Ranjkesh, a 21-year-old law student in Bandar Abbas, also lost her eye in the same manner and later wrote on her Instagram that the last image her right eye captured before blindness was the smile of an Islamic Republic agent at the moment of the bullet shot... Laughter that remains in memory... Laughter that will not be forgotten. Ali Delpasand says: "I have thought many times about how a human can harm another human with animalistic nature. Especially to those who are in the car with their child and shoot at them. They intended to kill on behalf of the Islamic Republic regime. My feeling towards them is hatred. Every time I decide that if I see them up close one day, I will take revenge, but my human feeling does not allow me to be like them." Ali Delpasand and his family were shot just one night before the car of the Pirfalak family was shot at, resulting in the death of 9-year-old Kian Pirfalak, exactly in the same way under the rain of bullets from government agents. People eye to eye with the government. He recounts: "This incident happened to us in Gilan, Rasht, Golasar, Gilal intersection. The day after, on November 25, the Pirfalak family was shot inside their car, resulting in martyrdom. I always remember Kian because this incident happened to me, and I thank God that I still have my Respinah." Ten-year-old Respinah survived, and 9-year-old Kian Pirfalak was killed, leading many around the world to label the government as "child-killer". It is unclear how many other families, how many other cars, how many other Kians and Respinas were shot during last year's protests. How many Kians lost their lives, and how many Respinas survived? Mr. Delpasand recounts the moment of shotgun fire: "They targeted me with a shotgun. My wife and child and I were in the car and were injured. I had severe injuries to my head and face. I lost consciousness, and my wife was also injured in the head and face, and my child's hand was superficially injured that day." Suddenly, the car windows shattered. The cries of the ten-year-old child were drowned out by the sound of gunfire and the screams of the mother. The mother saw her husband for a moment, frozen behind the wheel, his neck tilted to one side, blood covering his face. Ali Delpasand continues: "On the night of the incident, people gathered to prevent them from taking us away. A person whose name I do not want to mention came and sat behind the wheel and took us home. They left the car at home and took us to the clinic with another acquaintance's car. We visited several clinics, none of them accepted us. Since my work involved doctors and pharmacies, I contacted several doctors, and eventually, one of our doctor friends coordinated and referred us to Gileh Hospital in Rasht. They welcomed us there and provided initial treatment. Then they referred us to the eye clinic, which did not accept us, and after that, we went to Farabi Clinic in Tehran, where we were eventually admitted after various difficulties, and the treatment process began. After forty days, I had three surgeries, and ultimately I was informed that I had lost my eye and my vision would not return." Ali Delpasand lost one eye forever. He speaks of the impact of this incident on his young daughter: "In the first week, Respinah drew a picture for me, which my sister-in-law sent to me. I don't know how to describe it to you... The content of the drawing was that the father's eyes were full of blood, his head was full of pellets. The mother was crying, injured, and the child was also crying." He was both the father of Respinah and the son of a mother who had hidden her son's blindness from him for months. Now he recalls: "During those days, my family called several times, and my wife told them that I was on a mission and would return and contact them myself. She told them that my phone was with me and I left it behind, but ultimately every mother suspects that something might have happened to her child. The maternal instinct is always there. Eventually, after several months, I went to see my mother and told her the issue... I really don't know how to describe that meeting."******"On September 29, four days after the murder of Mahsa Amini by the Iranian government, I participated in the nationwide protests; not only to protest Mahsa's killing but to protest the 44 years of oppression that has been inflicted on all of us Iranians. It was 6:30. A large crowd had gathered from Keshavarz Boulevard to Vali Asr Square to protest, and the street was entirely ours. We were chanting against the government when suddenly about fifty or sixty masked armed motorcyclists attacked us and began shooting. From military bullets to paintball and pellet gunfire. The suppressors were all members of the Quds Force of the Revolutionary Guards. I did not see my shooter, but since they all wore the same mask and cover, I know well that those who shot at my eyes were the Quds Force members because I worked in a military hospital and know what institutions the suppressors can belong to." These are the words of Hossein Nouriniko, an office worker in the treatment services department at Vali Asr Hospital. 25 years old with a left eye that was shot by the government's pellet bullets. That day on Vali Asr Street... He continues: "I realized my eye had been shot when the doctors removed five pellets from my eye, and even one of the pellets remained on my cheek. My eye was in such bad condition that at first, they could not diagnose it and said to come back tomorrow for removal. At that moment, it felt like the world had collapsed on me, and my entire being was filled with rage. After two months of complete blindness and darkness, I had surgery on November 10, and unfortunately, they placed an artificial lens in my eye, and I lost 80% of my vision." Hossein Nouriniko says he will never forget that moment: "I will never forget that moment when Khamenei's thugs attacked us and began to suppress and shoot in a savage manner. At that moment, I saw death before my eyes. It felt like the end of the world. That moment when they came and shot us all. I saw my compatriots falling to the ground one by one, and then suddenly after a few seconds, they shot me. I fell to the ground. I was left underfoot. I didn't understand what happened. I only heard screams. At that moment, I felt like I was done. I was taken to a place, but I didn't know who was taking me, where they were taking me? After a few seconds, I realized that my compatriots had taken me to a safe place so that I wouldn't be left underfoot and, most importantly, wouldn't fall into the hands of the savage suppressors of the Islamic Republic." He speaks of his feelings during the moment of assistance from the people: "At that moment, I felt I was not alone, and my compatriots were beside me. A young girl walked me to the hospital on foot. We went through alleys. We went to several hospitals, and they did not accept us. One of the hospitals had arrived, and they were arresting everyone." Not only in the streets and alleys but also security and intelligence forces were present in the protests of "Women, Life, Freedom" in hospitals, clinics, and sometimes even in private doctors' clinics. First, they targeted the protesters with bullets, and then they prevented their admission for any help and treatment in hospitals. A form of repression that a group of doctors condemned as the securitization of treatment by issuing a statement. Hossein Nouriniko says: "We went to Firouzgar Hospital. There they only put a bandage on to stop the bleeding and said to leave. In fact, the situation was such that some hospitals were reporting, and we were afraid of confrontation and did not know what to do or where to go." Many injured protesters in the "Women, Life, Freedom" movement experienced this after being directly targeted by the agents' bullets. Wounded, with bloodied eyes, empty hands, and a small bird in their throats singing the song of freedom. Marsedeh recalls those days in the city: "They had no mercy at all. They beat everyone. I even saw them hitting people with metal batons. They were hitting with chains. They were hitting people in the face and hands and feet, and they behaved very savagely. Their savagery was indescribable. Anyone passing by the street was shot with paintballs. The sound of paintballs hitting doors and walls was heard, and people brought their hands in front of their heads and faces to avoid being hit in the face. A boy was passing by the street. He stood still so that the motorcyclists would move aside for him to pass. He asked the suppressor why he was standing there. He said he was passing through. As soon as he said that, the suppressor hit his leg with a baton, and he fell. Poor guy could no longer walk. Then he told him to get up and go! There was another man who said you hit this one! How could he get up and go?!" She speaks of the very large number of plainclothes agents in the streets and sidewalks: "We could no longer distinguish whether the person walking in front of us was a plainclothes agent or a protesting person! For example, I saw young boys going ahead, and when they reached the corners, they would encounter the guard forces.