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Reyhaney Jabbari

There may be more to this story, but Reyhaneh Jabbari was hanged by the Iranian Government for killing her would-be rapist. The thought that in some eyes and ears, this is considered justice is beyond my comprehension.

So I ask a few questions. All of which have been asked numerous times before, yet have not been answered. Not that I know of. So, I ask them again, hoping that this time, maybe someone will be able to answer at least one.


Why is it when a woman is raped, the first question people are concerned with is what she was wearing. Does the length of one’s skirt really determine if one is rape-able? If so, then what about women who wear burqas and naqabs? Why are they raped? What of the women who are raped after marriage by their own husbands?

Why is it a matter of shame for the woman who is raped? Why not the man who committed the crime? Why is it considered in the minds of some sick minds, that the rape indicates that he is now a “macho man?”

Why do families weep and think ‘who will marry her now?’ instead of helping the victim through the trauma? Why isn’t she and her survival the concern? Even the mothers of the victims do this too. Why?

Why isn’t keeping quiet about it not considered shameful? Instead, it is encouraged.

Why does the man’s honor go down when a woman in his family is raped? Why is his honor in the woman any way?

Why is it when a country as a whole, wrongly kills a woman, the people are quick to criticize the mullahs who made it happen, (always the mullahs), but say nothing for the woman who breathes no more? Their concern is more of the scriptures than the woman herself.

Why is it, after a child is gang raped, she is charged with adultery and then stoned to death in front of a 1000 spectators, people don’t speak up?http://news.sky.com/story/646336/gang-raped-girl-stoned-by-mob

When a woman is raped, why do people instead ask what was she doing out alone at such a time?

Why?

reyhaneh-jabbari

Reyhaneh Jabbari recorded her will in a voice message for her mother Sholeh; this is part of it.

“The world allowed me to live for 19 years. That ominous night it was I that should have been killed. My body would have been thrown in some corner of the city, and after a few days, the police would have taken you to the coroner’s office to identify my body and there you would also learn that I had been raped as well. The murderer would have never been found since we don’t have their wealth and their power. Then you would have continued your life suffering and ashamed, and a few years later you would have died of this suffering and that would have been that.

However, with that cursed blow the story changed. My body was not thrown aside, but into the grave of Evin Prison and its solitary wards, and now the grave-like prison of Shahr-e Ray. But give in to the fate and don’t complain. You know better that death is not the end of life.”

“You taught us that as we go to school one should be a lady in face of the quarrels and complaints. Do you remember how much you underlined the way we behave? Your experience was incorrect. When this incident happened, my teachings did not help me. Being presented in court made me appear as a cold-blooded murderer and a ruthless criminal. I shed no tears. I did not beg. I did not cry my head off since I trusted the law.”

“Dear Sholeh, don’t cry for what you are hearing. On the first day that in the police office an old unmarried agent hurt me for my nails I understood that beauty is not looked for in this era. The beauty of looks, beauty of thoughts and wishes, a beautiful handwriting, beauty of the eyes and vision, and even beauty of a nice voice.

My dear mother, my ideology has changed and you are not responsible for it. My words are unending and I gave it all to someone so that when I am executed without your presence and knowledge, it would be given to you. I left you much handwritten material as my heritage.

“My kind mother, dear Sholeh, the one more dear to me than my life, I don’t want to rot under the soil. I don’t want my eye or my young heart to turn into dust. Beg so that it is arranged that as soon as I am hanged my heart, kidney, eye, bones and anything that can be transplanted be taken away from my body and given to someone who needs them as a gift.”

“The world did not love us. It did not want my fate. And now I am giving in to it and embrace the death. Because in the court of God I will charge the inspectors,”

http://ncr-iran.org/en/news/human-rights/17419-iran-text-of-reyhaneh-jabbari-s-will-in-a-voice-message-to-her-mother

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