Zhila Baniyaghoub

Zhila Baniyaghoub is a prominent women's rights activist and journalist. Since 2006 she has been arrested and detained many times for her work in support of changing anti-discriminatory policies against women in the Islamic Republic of Iran.

She was one of the advocates of the 'One Million Signature Campaign'.

In 2009, the International Women’s Media Foundation awarded her its 2009 prize for Courage in Journalism.

In an interview after receiving the award, she said, "I would like to take the opportunity... to dedicate this award to my journalist colleagues who are currently in prison and really I wanted they have won this award instead of me".

In January 2010, she wrote the following in a letter to the judge, presiding over her husband’s trial protesting at his prison sentence, saying the punishment imposed on her husband was due in part to the judge’s lack of knowledge of the journalism profession.

"Judge Pir Abbas, do you really consider being critical a crime? Do you know that the main responsibility of journalists is to watch over and criticize the power structure? The journalist tries to illuminate the dark corner of the society thereby helping improve its condition. This is an accepted principle. It is granted that in today’s world, a society that is not bound by the progressive principle of criticism and does not tolerate dissent cannot be a dynamic society." Persian2English

In June, the Islamic Revolutionary Court, headed by Judge Pirabasi, sentenced her to a one-year jail term and a 30-year ban on any activities related to journalism.

A Letter by Zhila Baniyaghoub

In August, Zhila Baniyaghoub wrote an open letter to recognize the ‘hunger strike’ prisoners who remain detained in solitary confinement in Evin prison in Iran. One of whom is her husband, Bahman Ahmad Amouie.

Bahman, twenty days have passed by and you are still detained in solitary confinement. But this is not a long time for you and me anymore. Last year you spent all three months of the summer in solitary confinement. You didn’t even complain about it after at long last we saw each other again. Instead, you filled me in on the great experiences you gained during your isolation. It was as if you couldn’t experience the ultimate loneliness of solitary confinement anywhere else in the world.

You told me that you had the chance to look back at your life in the darkness of your cell, which made you feel lighter. You said that by reviewing your life you came to the conclusion that you should become kinder, more patient, more tolerant, and most importantly, you made the decision to seek forgiveness from those you have offended, no matter how minor the case. You said you want to love those who oppose you. You said these words despite the fact that your friends, colleagues, and family members already know you as patient.

Considering this, why would twenty days in prison be difficult for you? I am certain that the next time I see you, you will talk about your isolation as calm as one can be. I know you will tell me that you needed the period of solitude. I know you will hold back your tears and tell me that the only problem was that you missed me so much. And as always I will tell you to not be so sensitive!

My darling Bahman, last year around this time, you and many of your close friends were detained in solitary confinement. Later I found out that you and many other prisoners who were arrested after the election had fasted throughout your time in solitary confinement. I heard that even the investigators wondered how any of you were able to tolerate the long summer days from your cramped cells.

I know you are strong but I am worried about you. I know that you didn’t eat or drink for two weeks, and now after this two-week long hunger strike, I wonder how you cope with the horrible prison food!

Yesterday someone wrote a piece for you and all your friends on a blog:

“A light is turned on for fear of loneliness. Our courageous friends are alone in solitary confinement. Let us turn on a light. Our beloved confined friends, these sixteen brave compatriots have been lost for twenty days now. They are in our sight and they are crying to us, but we don’t see or hear them. We must turn on a light. Turn on a light and go after the lost ones.”

He suggested that we all turn on a light in memory of all of you who spend your days in the loneliness of ward 240 of Evin prison.

Translation Neda Shayesteh for Persian2English

For further information on Women activists in Iran visit Change for Equality