Sisters of the Prison: Two Afghan Girls Victims of Ignorance

Everything begins with this clever title: "Sisters of the Prison," a film that follows the story of two young Afghan girls after their release from a prison known as the 'moral crimes' prison—essentially a prison for romantic relationships outside of marriage. Nima Sarvestani, an Iranian documentary filmmaker residing in Sweden, previously shared an account of this prison in Afghanistan with his film "Without Burqa in Bondage." Throughout the film, it was emphasized that they would not be easily accepted by their families and society after their release. Two of these women were named Sara and Najiba. Sarvestani's new film, presented four years after "Without Burqa in Bondage" (premiered at the IDFA festival in the Netherlands and currently at the Gothenburg festival in Sweden), follows the fate of Sara and Najiba after their release from prison; in two different parts of the world and under completely different conditions, yet still under the shadow and victim of ignorance that seemingly has no end. "Sisters of the Prison" appears to be the most narrative-driven of Sarvestani's previous films; a story intertwined with reality and very far from the life and world of the Western viewer. However, the film's power—manifested in the simplicity of the images, the shocking nature of the subject, and the freeing camera that has followed a character for years—engages every viewer (whether aware of the conditions in Afghanistan or not). The film has a narrator who tells us everything from the beginning. We quickly return to the previous film and realize that this new film is actually a sequel to it, yet it is complete in itself and does not require the former. Although "Sisters of the Prison" seems to be a documentary without reconstruction, it ultimately approaches a fully narrative film structure; a story that becomes particularly captivating with the entry of Najiba's disappearance and the possibility of her stoning, keeping the viewer engaged at all times. However, the film begins with good news: Sara, as an actress from the previous film, receives a visa for Sweden and participates in film screenings in this country, receiving applause. She applies for asylum, and her request is eventually approved by the Swedish government. Throughout this time, Sarvestani's camera captures various moments of this girl's life as she and her husband decide to host Sara in their home. The film, with its precise and calculated editing, gradually familiarizes us with the moods and thoughts of this woman while also reminding us of a potential danger—a husband who constantly talks to her from Afghanistan and tries to control her—a danger that ultimately leads to a bitter ending for the film. The candid and very intimate portrayal of this woman creates captivating scenes that further affirm her inner innocence and victimhood; including scenes discussing sex, artificial genitalia, and her suffering in her sexual experiences. On the other hand, midway through the film, we encounter another victim: news arrives that another girl from this prison, Najiba, has been stoned to death by her family members after her release. The filmmaker, unwilling to accept this unverified news, returns to Afghanistan with his camera to seek Najiba's fate. The scenes from Afghanistan reveal the other side of the coin; with a heartbreaking documentary scene that the filmmaker acquires during his investigations—and fortunately—we do not see it in full. However, when both the filmmaker and Sara have become hopeless and believe in Najiba's death, strange events occur in Afghanistan that turn the tide. In fact, everything we have seen and believed about Najiba turns out to be wrong. The film oscillates between hope and despair: sometimes it moves from a shocking bitterness to a joy and celebration of life with all its sorrows, and at other times we become so oppressed and trapped by fate that we have no choice but to shed tears. Although the film follows two characters, it transforms into a general image of a society where the presence of ignorance can lead to deep tragedies every day. The real video we see in the film of a woman being executed by her husband (with the encouragement of many villagers in a locality where the Taliban are present) is a clear depiction of deeply rooted ignorance that unfortunately has a close connection with religious beliefs (the statements we hear before the execution about 'implementing the Quran and Allah's command' are truly shocking and painful). About half of the film—midway—is narrated in a parallel editing style, which adds to the structural appeal of the film; on one side, we follow Sara's life and her request to the Swedish government, while on the other side, the filmmaker searches for another victim released from this prison in Afghanistan. When these two eventually connect via Skype, their tears of joy quickly turn into meaningful cries; with a confession from Najiba about very painful events that shaped her current bitter fate—and later the filmmaker's hopeless return to Sweden, after which it seems at least one person from that group will face a better life; a delusion that is shattered by the bitter writings at the end of the film.