For a summary of Maryam’s story, you can read our feature article here.

---

---

Background

1. My name is Maryam and I was born in 1964 in Neyshabur [northeast Iran]. I had four sisters and two brothers. My father was a military man, and as a result he was extremely strict in raising his children. Our home was like a military base. I wanted to get away from that environment, so I decided to marry the first man who proposed, and married one of my mother’s relatives at the age of 13.

2. My first son was born in 1979, when I was just 15. When I was 17, my son contracted meningitis, and this illness led to his death. We buried him in January 1981. This event was extremely painful for me. I couldn’t understand the reason for my child’s birth and death. Many questions occupied my mind. In my solitude, I asked God: “You knew my son was going to die, so why did you give him to us only to take him away?” A few years later, at the age of 21, my second son was born, and later I had a third.

3. When I was 38, my younger sister and brother decided to hold their wedding ceremonies on the same night. Another of my sisters, Farzaneh, who was 26 at the time and had a three-year-old daughter named Hasti, was returning from a recreational trip with her husband and daughter to attend the wedding in Neyshabur. But they had a severe accident near Neyshabur, which resulted in my sister’s death.

4. The loss of Farzaneh was the second tragic blow for me. While preparing her body for burial at the mortuary, I wailed and cried out to God, questioning why she had died at such a young age, and what would happen to her three-year-old daughter. I struggled with the concepts of God’s justice and wisdom, and these questions weighed heavily on my mind, without any clear answers. I was anxious and restless. Despite attending many Islamic ceremonies and gatherings, I couldn’t find the peace and comfort I was desperately seeking.

Converting to Christianity and attending house-church

5. I read “The Wisdom of Florence Scovel Shinn: Four Complete Books”, and found the references to the Bible interesting. Another relative of mine was at university, studying English literature, and I learned that as part of the course they studied the Bible in English. This piqued my curiosity, and on 20 October 2004 I asked this relative some questions about Christianity and the Bible. My relative then read me the following verse from the Gospel of Matthew: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” [Matthew 11:28]. When I heard this verse, I felt such peace in my heart, and it felt like I had finally found what I had been searching for, for years.

6. I travelled from Neyshabur to the Central Assemblies of God Church in Tehran, where I bought a Bible from the church’s bookstore. As I enthusiastically read it, I found answers to questions that had been in my mind for years. I visited the bookstore several more times and bought other Christian books. My daughter-in-law, Najmeh, and I simultaneously studied the Bible together for the next eight months.

7. My father was a member of the board of trustees of both the city’s mosque and a religious centre. My mother was a devout Muslim woman, who had completed the Hajj pilgrimage to Mecca and regularly went on different pilgrimages or held religious meetings at home. It was in this setting that I became a Christian and gradually discussed my Christian faith with my mother, sisters, brothers, son, and daughter-in-law. A total of 19 people in my family eventually became Christians.

8. Another of my relatives had converted to Christianity before us, and a year earlier had been arrested by agents from the Ministry of Intelligence. Knowing he was under surveillance by the authorities, he used to come to our home cautiously to teach us more about Christianity. We held house-church meetings on Fridays.

First arrest in Neyshabur

9. I used to work as a salesperson in my own women’s clothing shop, and would often spend long hours away from home. However, at a certain stage I decided to take a few days off and stay at home to focus on fasting and personal prayer. During those days, we also put our home up for sale, and one morning, at around 10 or 11am our doorbell rang. I answered the intercom, and my son was at the door and said: “Mum, they’re here!” I assumed a buyer from the estate agency had come, and calmly said: “Let me get dressed.” So my son repeated himself with a sense of urgency: “Mum, I’m telling you that they are here! To take you away!” A handful of plainclothes male officers entered – no female officer was with them – and I realised that they were agents from the Ministry of Intelligence.

10. I was unprepared, and didn’t have much information about dealing with security agents. So I didn’t know that I should ask them for a search warrant, and they didn’t show one. They searched the entire property for two hours. They even searched the rice container, all the freezer drawers, and more. I was amazed at the lengths they went to in their search. I had placed a series of Islamic books in the basement, as I wasn’t reading them anymore, and upon seeing them there the agents became very angry and said: “Why did you put these books here? By doing this, you have disrespected Islamic sanctities!”

Detention

11. After their thorough search, they asked me to call my husband and ask him to come home. When he arrived back home, they handcuffed us with very tight plastic handcuffs, put us in their car, and took us away. They ordered us to keep our heads down, and we didn’t know where they were taking us.

12. Upon arrival at the detention centre, they put me in solitary confinement. The cell was very small, like a cage, but the walls separating each room didn’t reach the ceiling, and because of this I was able to hear the voices of my daughter-in-law, Najmeh, and another relative, Elaheh, from the next room, singing a worship song. I also heard the guards try to silence them. Until that moment, I hadn’t known that they had also been arrested.

13. At around midnight, I was taken to the office of the deputy prosecutor, who was a disabled veteran of the Iran-Iraq war, talked to me and said: “I know your family and what background you come from. I just want to know what made you leave Islam and become a Christian!” As I told him about God’s love, I cried and explained: “These tears aren’t out of weakness or because I want you to release me. But when I talk about God, my tears flow uncontrollably.” He responded: “I understand.” I emphasised to him that: “My faith is heartfelt, and even if you put me under pressure, you can’t take it away from me. Even if I die, I’ll go to my Lord.” In this meeting, he treated me with politeness and a lot of respect.

Ministry of Intelligence in Mashhad 

14. At one o’clock in the morning, I saw my husband, and Elaheh’s brother, Mojtaba, who had also been arrested, as they transported us together to Vakilabad Prison in the [nearby] city of Mashhad in a van. Later, I learned that the Ministry of Intelligence’s operation had been conducted in five stages. First, they had arrested my daughter-in-law from her parents’ home. Then, they had gone to Elaheh’s home, and arrested her and Mojtaba. Next, they had come to my home. Overall, they had arrested five people in four different locations.

15. I was a fearful person, but God gave me the strength to endure. I had taken out a loan from the bank to set up my shop, and didn’t know how long I would be in detention, so I was also worried about my financial commitments. Despite that, while I was in the cell I would pray and sing worship songs.

16. The night before my arrest, my son and daughter-in-law had been at my home, and in my interrogation the interrogators recounted all the conversations we’d had, and I realised our home had been tapped.

17. The interrogators asked many questions, such as: “Who evangelised to you?” and “Are you in contact with foreign countries?” I honestly told them that no-one evangelised to me – I had just been seeking God – and no-one had “tricked” me into becoming a Christian. I explained that I had sought help from God on my [Islamic] prayer mat, and God had made himself known to me; God forbid that I would ask him for guidance and he would deceive me.

18. The interrogators kept on saying: “You’re a Zionist Evangelical Christian! You’re receiving money from the governments of Israel and the USA!” They made many unfounded accusations against me, and were so convinced of their claims that after my release I found out that one of my brothers had believed their accusations that I was being paid by the US government to talk to people about Christianity!

19. I didn’t even know the meaning of the word “tabshir” [from the Arabic root word bishara, meaning “good news”], which they used for “evangelism”, and I kept reiterating that I hadn’t done any tabshir! The interrogator responded: “You talked to your family about Christianity!” That was when I realised that they considered this act tabshir.

Release on bail

20. I had heard from Christians with experience of arrest that the Ministry of Intelligence forces Christians to recant their faith and return to Islam before releasing them. I prayed to God not to test me with this demand, and fortunately they never asked me to renounce my faith. After eight days of interrogation, they asked for a business licence as bail for my release, and a relative submitted one on my behalf.

21. After we were all released, we still felt fear and terror, even at home, where we stayed completely silent because we were afraid our conversations might be monitored. But we naively thought that only our home was under surveillance, and held church meetings at the home of one of my sisters, and sometimes I stayed overnight there. The Ministry of Intelligence agents then called my brothers and told them: “Tell your sister to leave this city, or we’ll arrest her again.”

House-church in Isfahan

22. I prayed about my situation and decided to move to Isfahan. Neyshabur is a religious city, as it is near Mashhad – which has the most sacred religious shrine for Shia Muslims in all of Iran – and I chose Isfahan because many Armenian [Christians] lived there, making it a city with more religious tolerance. After just a few months, our home in Isfahan became the place for house-church meetings, and new and old Persian-speaking converts would come to my home, and we would pray together and read the Scriptures.

23. One day, a woman who had cancer came to our home to attend a meeting, and we prayed for her healing. She was delighted that someone had prayed for her and returned home and joyfully told her husband, who was a member of the security department at the Isfahan governor’s office, “Today, prayers were said for me at a person named Maryam’s home.” Someone from her husband’s department called me a few days later and said: “You need to present yourself to the security department at the governor’s office.”

24. I was scared, so I fled to Shiraz, and then to Ahvaz, where I met Pastor Farhad Sabokrooh. I also lived in Kermanshah for a while, and then, finally, we went to live in Tehran.

Second arrest in Tehran

25. In Tehran, I attended meetings at the Central Assemblies of God Church, located at the intersection of Taleghani Street and Qods Boulevard, and there I met a Christian named Mitra. Mitra was single, and older than me, and at her home I got to know one of the teachers at the church, a woman who was known as “Sister Zaghgoosh”. And Zaghgoosh started teaching us about Christian teachings in her home.

26. Mitra and I used to fill our backpacks with Bibles, pray in parks and on the streets, talk to some people about Christianity, and give them Bibles as gifts. We weren’t afraid, since the church building was still open, and official meetings were held there for Persian-speakers.

27. Christmas 2009 coincided with Tasua and Ashura [Shia mourning days], so we decided to celebrate Christ’s birth a few days late to avoid disrespecting the ceremonies. So, on Tuesday 29 December, we celebrated Christmas at the home of a house-church member named Farzan, in Pakdasht [a small city to the southeast of Tehran]. There were around a dozen of us: a few people from Tehran, and a few from Pakdasht.

28. It was around 5pm and, as it was winter, it was dark outside. Farzan was going to play the keyboard, and I was going to read a chapter from the book of Psalms, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Farzan went to open the door and, when he returned, he had taken off his tie and was holding it in his hand, crumpled. He said: “They’ve come!” We asked: “What? Who?” He wanted to say “the agents”, but at that moment about 30 of them stormed in. Two were women, and the rest were men. One of the agents, who constantly yelled at us, creating an atmosphere of terror, had a gun and a walkie-talkie.

29. The female agents, wearing black chadors, just stood in a corner, and did nothing. One of the male agents filmed everyone with a camera, and another took pictures and videos of me with his personal mobile phone. I knew this was illegal, so I protested and said: “You have no right to film us with your personal phones!” But my protest was useless, and he continued. He looked at us women in a horrible way, and after filming told us: “Get up and cover your heads!” They wanted to document our “indecency” by filming us without hijabs in a Christian gathering.

30. The agents searched Farzan’s home and seized many items, including all our mobile phones and Bibles. Mitra’s mother, who was about 80 years old, was asked by one of the agents: “What is your religion?” She bravely said: “I’m a Christian.” The agents’ reaction was a mix of anger and astonishment. They didn’t arrest her, but they arrested the rest of us – nine women and three men.

31. Farzan’s home was at the end of a dead-end road. The agents handcuffed us and put us all into a van. The neighbours watched us in surprise and must have thought we had committed a serious crime for so many agents and vehicles to have come to arrest us.

32. We were taken to an unmarked residence belonging to the Ministry of Intelligence, and then I was taken to my home in Tehran with two agents, and they searched the entire property and seized many Bibles, Christian books, and CDs. Two other agents went with Mitra to her home, and searched it thoroughly, seizing her personal Bibles and Christian books, along with a framed image of Jesus, a family photo album, and even her brother’s computer hard-drive. Then we were taken back to Pakdasht.

33. The agents took all 12 of us to a half-finished brick building, and entering that strange place was frightening. The faces of the agents were filled with anger, and they constantly threatened us. An agent called us one by one for questioning. My interrogator was an agent from Tehran’s MOIS [Ministry of Intelligence and Security], who was known as “Tehrani”. He asked me: “How did you come to believe in Christ and change your religion?” I explained it to him, and it didn’t take long for him to realise he couldn’t convince or force me to return to Islam.

Detention at Pakdasht police station

34. They took us to the Pakdasht police station late that at night, and the days we spent there were the most difficult. Police officers worked there during the day, and several soldiers took shifts at night. The place was by no means suitable for female prisoners.

35. I believe the officers at Pakdasht were also surprised by our arrival at the station, and that this was why a female officer came to organise the room where we were being held the day after our arrival. Overall, it wasn’t a suitable environment for keeping humans.

36. We women were taken to a very small room, which had a broken window at the top that allowed cold winter air to enter. The floor was tiled, and there was no carpet, which made the floor very cold. There was no heating; they just gave us a small blanket, and the nine of us had to huddle together to stay warm with that one blanket. The room was so small that we had to sleep side by side.

37. There was no light in the room, and so from 4pm until the next morning we were in complete darkness. The bathroom was at the end of a hallway leading to our cell, and we were allowed to go there just twice a day. I think it hadn’t been used for years; it smelt very bad and the tap didn’t work properly, with water constantly running.

38. They didn’t give us any food or water, and said that if we wanted water, we would have to buy it ourselves. Most of the others didn’t have money with them. I had a small amount in my coat pocket, and we used this to buy water. Our hunger didn’t bother us, because we had already decided to fast when we arrived at the station, so even if they had given us food, we wouldn’t have eaten it and would have kept our fast. Their intention was to torture and harass us by keeping us in such a place, in such conditions.

Transfer from Pakdasht to Evin

39. Around three days after our arrest, they took us to the Pakdasht courthouse and the judge addressed me as if I was the leader of the group, and asked me questions. I answered his questions, and in the end he said: “I see no offence or reason to charge you.” He pointed to the thick books on his desk, and said: “I’m a man of law. You can ask me anything regarding these books and I can talk to you about them, but I’m not equipped to discuss the issues you mentioned regarding Christianity and your beliefs. Based on what you have said, I understand that you haven’t committed a crime; however, you need to convince the Tehran Ministry of Intelligence officers. But from the perspective of the Pakdasht judiciary, you haven’t committed a crime.” He tried to release us, even telling the Ministry of Intelligence officers: “The crime occurred here, and this area isn’t under your jurisdiction, so you have no right to intervene in this case.” But his efforts were unsuccessful.

40. The younger women were scared, and crying. One of them, Marjan*, was an employee of the Pakdasht City Council. She was single, and feared her father and brother would find out about her conversion to Christianity and arrest. Pakdasht is small, and she feared public disgrace and a bad reputation. The day after our arrest, they allowed Marjan’s father and brother to see her. Her brother slapped her several times, loud enough that we could hear the sound. Another of the women was married with two children, and feared not only the disgrace and reputational damage but also worried about her children. During that time, we prayed and sang worship songs together, and one day an interrogator told me: “We arrested you so that you would stop these activities, but I was informed that you were singing songs here, too?” I replied: “We were singing worship songs about God. If you want, I can sing for you too.” The interrogator rebuked us and said: “No, you can’t!”

41. Several times, they put us on an old, dirty, and shabby minibus to take us from the Pakdasht station to the judiciary building on Moallem Street to see the prosecutor. They wanted him to issue an indictment against us, so they could transfer us from Pakdasht station to Evin Prison. This action of theirs was completely illegal, and the investigator at Tehran’s prosecutor’s office was reluctant to write the order for our transfer.

42. “Tehrani” accompanied us and knew we were fasting. One day, on the way back to Pakdasht station, he ordered pizza for us, but no-one agreed to eat it. He got angry and accused me of coercing the others. I replied: “Who am I to lead them? They’re fasting of their own free will.”

Temporary release on bail by Chief Justice

43. Finally, Judge [Mashallah] Ahmadzadeh wrote the order for our transfer, but before it took place the Chief Justice of Pakdasht requested the Ministry of Intelligence officers to release us for one day on his guarantee. And so we were temporarily released. It had been six days since we had taken a bath, and our whole bodies smelled bad, so when we got home we took a bath.

44. The next day, Mitra and I went to see Elaheh’s father, who was a retired lawyer. But at that moment, the Chief Justice called and said: “The intelligence officers are here, looking for you. Get here quickly.” And so, after those six days of detention at Pakdasht station, we were transferred to Evin Prison.

Confrontations with interrogator in Evin Prison

45. They called us to go back to Pakdasht police station, and then took us to Evin Prison on a bus and we got there at night. Then they separated the men and women, and led us women into a large hall to take our fingerprints, and had to wake the staff there to do the job. Then they hung numbers around our necks, took our mugshots, and led us to a small cell. At that time, due to the protests after the 2009 presidential elections, many protesters were still detained in Evin, so there wasn’t any space for us.

46. I’m a person of few words, and the interrogation hours were very long. One of my interrogations lasted from 8am to 10pm, and my cellmates were worried about me. I recognised my interrogator’s voice and realised it was the same interrogator as before: “Tehrani”. Once, he got frustrated and said: “This isn’t working, Ms Jalili. You can’t just repeat what I already know. You have to answer all my questions, fully.” But another time he also confided in me, saying: “We’re the anonymous soldiers of the last imam [prophesied to return in the last days]. My heart is full of pain. I went to the frontlines and was wounded in the war.”

47. After my interrogations, I had to wear a blindfold to return to my cell, so the interrogator would give me a rolled-up wad of paper to hold onto, while he held the other and guided me out of the room without touching me. While I had been in Vakilabad Prison, even the female officers refused to hold my hand and made me hold onto their chadors instead, because they believed I was impure and that the moisture from my hands would make them unclean.

48. Every time one of us returned from an interrogation, we would discuss the questions we were asked, and our answers, to make sure our stories were consistent. But the interrogators tried to make us suspicious of each other. Creating division is one of their cunning tactics. They falsely told two of our detained friends: “Poor things! Maryam has been getting money for converting people to Christianity, so you were financially beneficial for her!” And they believed this lie.

49. During my interrogations, I had to sit on a chair facing the wall, blindfolded and handcuffed. It felt like three or four officers were in the room. I wore a coat and had a chador over it, but one time the interrogator shouted at me to: “Fix your hijab and cover your hair.” I protested: “The chador slips over my scarf, and how can I fix it when my hands are cuffed?”

50. They had printed photos from the album they had confiscated from Mitra’s home, and the interrogator showed me the pictures and ordered me to: “Tell us about every single person in these photos – who they are, what their characteristics are, and what they do.” I replied that: “We only saw each other once a week in meetings, and I don’t know much about them.”

51. Another time, an interrogator told me to: “Look through your blindfold at the hole in the wall. That was caused by the head of a detainee who didn’t cooperate. If you don’t cooperate, the same will happen to you.” Then he angrily said to the others in the room: “If they had properly interrogated her the first time she was arrested in Mashhad, she wouldn’t be here now!” He shouted: “This is Evin! God doesn’t exist here! If you don’t cooperate, we know what we’ll do with you!”

52. They made many baseless accusations against us, seemingly unconcerned with any evidence. They said: “You’re immoral and have unhealthy sexual relations with each other,” and “You have connections with foreign countries.” It seemed they were trying to pile more charges onto our file to build a thicker case against us. Another accusation was: “You held illegal gatherings.” I naively replied: “Oh, if we had obtained a permit, you wouldn’t have arrested us?” He didn’t have any response, and just looked down.

53. They constantly threatened me, saying: “I’ll put the noose around your neck and kick the stool from under you myself!” At that time, my son was planning to go to Canada for further studies, and the interrogators even used this to threaten me, saying: “We won’t let your son leave the country!”

54. One day, an interrogator gave me a piece of paper with a list of names on it, and asked me to write detailed explanations about the individuals listed. I wrote only very brief responses, and when he looked up from saying his prayers – the same interrogator who had said there was no God inside Evin – and saw them, he whacked me on the head with a thick stack of papers, and said: “What is this? You must write in the way I like!”

55. Later, when we were taken to the judge, I criticised how the interrogators had treated me and another of us who had been slapped, saying: “The interrogators have no right to disrespect us. We haven’t done anything to warrant such treatment. The interrogators can voice their objection verbally, but why should they hit me on the head with a stack of papers, or slap one of my sisters?” They had no response.

56. The interrogators spared no insult or vulgarity. One day, while in an interrogation room in Ward 209 [managed by the MOIS], I overheard the interrogator addressing Mitra with filthy and sexually suggestive language. She was in the adjacent room, and I could hear her protesting about it. I prayed: “God, I really don’t want to hear such insults and foul language directed at me.” And gladly they didn’t do this to me.

57. Another technique the interrogators used was trying to bribe me by asking me to spy for them, explicitly saying: “Do you want to get out of prison? There’s a condition! You have to go to the Assemblies of God church, see who comes and goes, and spy for us.” I said: “I’m not that kind of person at all! I don’t want to do it, and I wouldn’t even know how! You have many officers and you pay them. Tell them to do it!”

58. Some of us decided to fast at one point, and one day during that time I was taken to the prison office, and the interrogator asked: “Why have you gone on a hunger strike? You’re become the ringleader, and have incited the others to riot!” I replied: “I’m not on a hunger strike; I’m fasting, and intend to drink only water and tea for 40 days.” Some time later, they took me back to the prison office and the interrogator repeated again: “You’re on a hunger strike!” I explained again that I was fasting, and this time he asked me to explain the Christian fast. When he heard that we could drink tea while fasting, he brought me tea with two sugar cubes to ensure we weren’t on a hunger strike.

59. Once, an interrogator asked: “What do you expect from us?” I replied: “Please don’t turn Iran into a second Evin for us! Now that you understand I’m just a simple Christian, let us have our worship and go to church!” He said: “No! You have to vow not to go to church and not to be in contact with your Christian friends!” I replied: “I’ll continue to go to church and stay in touch with my friends unless they don’t want to be in contact with me.” They didn’t respond. If they can smell fear, they increase the level of threats and fear in order to gain more from the interrogation. But if you’re not afraid, they pull back.

60. Tehrani asked me: “Which church do you want to go to?” I replied: “The Assemblies of God Church and the Emmanuel Presbyterian Church.” He said: “I pity you! You have been completely misguided and gone completely insane!” I said: “Brother, if you think I’m misguided, pray for me, and I’ll pray for you, but one day we’ll see where each of us stands in Heaven.” I asked him to return my notebooks and books, but he said: “We want to read your writings to understand your thoughts.”

61. It was obvious that they tried to understand prisoners’ personalities to use them to torture them accordingly. For example, the interrogators realised I liked solitude, whereas Mitra didn’t, so they put Mitra in solitary confinement and me in the general ward.

62. The general ward had two floors: the first housed individuals involved in sexual immorality or running brothels; the second housed financial criminals or those accused of murder. I was on the second floor, sharing a room with three inmates serving sentences for murder. A week before we were released on bail, Mitra was moved down to the first floor.

63. We had thought that, like our detention at Pakdasht station, we would be released after a short time, so we didn’t bring extra clothes. When I went to shower, I would wash my winter coat, but it was hard to wring the water out again. Inside the ward, they had hung some string between the beds to use for drying our clothes, and we had to sleep in that humid space, with its musty smell. The ward’s chief [a prisoner selected to act as a mediator] kindly gave me a set of clothes to wear while mine dried.

64. During the whole period of our detention, I was only permitted to call my mother once, and only right at the end of our time there. Most prisoners had to beg and plead to be let out on furlough.

65. Even regarding seeking help from a lawyer, the interrogator threatened that: “If you go to a human-rights lawyer, your case will get worse.”

66. Each of our bail amounts was set at 100 million tomans, and Mitra’s mother used her house deed as collateral. We were first detained on 29 December 2009, and were temporarily released on bail on 20 March 2010.

67. After our release, only Mitra and I stayed in contact. The other Christians from our house-church were afraid to stay in touch with us. My husband and I also separated during this time.

Revolutionary Court and various accusations

68. The judicial process took quite a while. Finally, we were summoned to Branch 15 of the Islamic Revolutionary Court, and had several hearings. In the court, it was only me, Mitra, and Farzan – the charges against the others had been dropped. Judge Ahmadzadeh brought numerous charges against us, one of which was “disturbing national security”. Mitra is from Kermanshah [west Iran], and with her sweet Kermanshahi accent said to the judge: “Sir, I’m very sorry that our conversion to Christianity has disturbed your security. Is the country’s security so fragile that mine and Maryam’s conversion can disrupt it?”

69. Another of our charges was “promoting Christianity”, or, for instance in Mitra’s case, “having a picture of Jesus Christ” on the wall of her home”! Hearing these accusations, I couldn’t help but laugh, and said: “Is having a picture of Jesus Christ a crime?” The judge responded: “Anything we take from you Christians will be considered evidence of your crime!” In the verdict, which was issued on 5 January 2011, the cited evidence against us included: “Discovering illegal books related to promoting Christianity, without ISBNs [not approved by the Ministry of Islamic Guidance], along with CDs of related films, and putting up the Cross and posters of Jesus Christ on the walls of the house.”

70. Despite the fact that we had celebrated Christ’s birth late out of respect for our Muslim neighbours, the judge wrote in the indictment: “The defendants, two days after Ashura, along with other key members of the group and Muslims attracted to the deviant sect of Christianity, was arrested while celebrating, rejoicing, and teaching the Bible based on the instructions of a disciple-making pamphlet, in a mixed-gender gathering with inappropriate hijab.” It was clear that their main concern regarded “promoting Christianity”. Other words and phrases were more to justify their opposition to our work in spreading the Gospel message. For example, all our charges presented in the court session were summarised under one charge in the court’s verdict: “Acting against national security through forming an illegal group and running it to deceive Muslims and promote Christianity.” Elsewhere in the same verdict, the officially registered Assemblies of God church that we attended was also described as “one of the main centres for proselytising and promoting the distorted sect of Christianity”.

71. We were summoned back to the court a few days later to receive the verdict, and went to the office of Judge Ahmadzadeh’s secretary, who handed us the verdict to read and sign. Based on Article 610 of the Islamic Penal Code, the judge had sentenced each of us to five years in prison for “gathering and collusion against the security of the state”. I asked the secretary to give us a copy of the verdict. She allowed us to make a handwritten copy, and said we had 20 days to file an appeal.

72. We went back to the home of Elaheh’s father, the retired lawyer, but when he learned of our charges, he became scared and said: “I won’t get involved in these matters!” He didn’t even agree to give us legal advice.

73. So Mitra, Farzan, and I went to the office of a middle-aged lawyer on Dowlat Street in Tehran, but the fee he requested for his services was very high. Seeing our surprise, he said: “I’m not asking this amount just for myself. I have to bribe many people, including the judge, to persuade them to change the verdict.” We asked in astonishment: “How do you intend to change the judge’s ruling?” He pointed to a tree on the street and said: “Even if you worship that tree, the government won’t care. Just don’t talk about your faith with anyone. I’m friends with the judge handling your case. I’ll go to his office and whisper in his ear that these people didn’t know what they were doing, so forgive and forget.” We replied: “Well, if we’re supposed to say we made a mistake, why should we pay you? We could have done that ourselves. We aren’t at all regretful and won’t renounce our faith.”

74. Ultimately, a lawyer named Mr Shafiei agreed to give us advice, and we filed an appeal. He was surprised when he saw the copy of the verdict that the court secretary had given us because, in most security cases, no documents are handed to the defendants. He told us we could go to various government centres and make an appeal. I also wrote a letter, about one-and-a-half pages long, addressed to Sadeq Larijani, then head of the judiciary.

75. The appeal court was held, in our absence, in May 2011 at Branch 36 of the Tehran Court of Appeal. The Judge was Seyed Ahmad Zargar, with [Hassan] Babaei as the assistant judge. Judge Zargar rejected our appeal, but reduced our prison sentences by half. Thus, our five-year prison sentences were reduced to two and a half years.

Prison

76. Mitra and I decided to serve our two-and-a-half-year sentences. Farzan served his later. My biggest concern was having a Bible with me in prison. During the nearly three months when we had been detained before, all our belongings had been taken from us, and I had missed my Bible terribly. Following [Assemblies of God church leader] Rev Robert Asseriyan’s suggestion, this time I took my Bible with me and put it in my handbag. I also took a small bag containing clothes, a towel, sheets, and some other essential items. When I entered Evin Prison and went through the inspections at the entrance and administrative hall, they only searched that bag, and not my handbag. But when I entered the women’s ward, one of the female guards on duty was in her office and opened my handbag and saw the Bible. She flipped through it and asked: “What is this?” I said: “The Bible.” She gave me a signal with her eyes and said: “Take it, take it! But bring it to me whenever I ask!” It seemed she didn’t want her colleague to notice.

77. During those two and a half years in prison, my name was called every time that particular female guard was on duty, and she would ask me to bring my Bible to her office secretly. She would ask questions about its content, and I would answer as much as I could. Upon her request, I would secretly place the Bible on a bench in the yard, and she would pick it up, read it, and put it back on the bench for me to pick up. She was very eager to study the Bible and learn more about Christianity. The other female guards also behaved in a friendly way towards me, and one of them asked me to pray for her that she would be able to buy a house.

78. Besides Mitra and me, there was another Christian inmate named Shahla Rahmati in the prison. I spoke with many inmates about Christianity, including members or supporters of the People’s Mojahedin Organization [MEK], Baha’is, and others. My association with the Baha’is gave me a deep understanding of their faith, and one Baha’i prisoners, Ms Mahvash Shahriar Sabat, wrote a poem in my honour on my birthday and gave it to me as a gift. Sometimes, I would also have discussions with Baha’i psychologist Faran Hesami, and [human-rights lawyer] Nasrin Sotoudeh, when we would read the Bible together and discuss it.

79. Gradually, the inmates got to know Mitra and me better, and treated us with respect. For example, during Ramadan, Kobra, the chief or “mother” of the ward, as we called her, asked me to distribute the Iftar meal [to break the Ramadan fast]. I knew that, according to the traditional view of Islam, anyone who renounces Islam is considered an infidel and impure, so I asked her whether the middle-aged Muslim woman in our ward would be OK with me distributing the food. She talked to her and heard back: “Of course she can.” So they agreed that I could distribute the Iftar meal.

80. Faezeh Hashemi Rafsanjani [daughter of the former president], who had served a term as an MP in parliament, was also serving a sentence during that time, and we became somewhat close. I talked to her about my Christian faith, and sometimes she would come to my bed and say: “Maryam, our God seems to be asleep; bless your God! You tell your [Heavenly] Father about our petitions. Your Father listens.” Her prayer requests were related to political and social matters.

81. Through an inmate whose husband was in the men’s ward, I learned that my brother in faith, Farshid Fathi, was in prison, and we corresponded secretly through the help of that fellow inmate, who would put our letters into her socks or shoes when she went to meet her husband. After a while, Farshid also managed to send some Christian books to me, and I gave them to some trusted inmates to read. One young cellmate, after reading the Christian book “Disciplined Thinking and The Healing of the Tongue“, wrote many parts of the book on bits of paper and stuck them to the wall next to her bed, because we couldn’t keep the books permanently; I had to return them to Farshid.

Mother’s visits

82. Prisoners were allowed a visit from their families once a week. But because my family did not live in Tehran, my mother could only visit me once a month. My mother, who was in her 60s and had chronic knee pain, had to sit on a train for about 12 hours to come to Tehran to visit me in person. Then she was only able to meet me for around an hour, before returning to Neyshabur. As a result, she came to visit me only every seven months.

83. During one visit, she said: “Your daughter-in-law, Najmeh, has been arrested.” I was very saddened by this, because of Najmeh’s previous arrest with me in Neyshabur. Mitra and I would pray together about various matters and have times of worship together, and after hearing about Najmeh’s arrest, Mitra prayed with me. We prayed that God would protect Najmeh’s faith and that she wouldn’t have to sign a recantation.

84. While Najmeh was in prison, the interrogators humiliated and threatened my son, Mostafa. They told him: “You’re so dishonourable that you let your wife become a Christian! You couldn’t control her!” Mostafa was alone, and endured a lot of mental and emotional pressure during that time, as both his father and I, and also Najmeh, were all in prison.

85. During another of my mother’s visits, she spoke to the head of the prison, Mr Lavasani, and said: “My other daughter is getting married. Please allow Maryam to come and attend her sister Faranak’s wedding.” Lavasani agreed and told my mother she could apply and they would approve it, and my mother happily shared this news with me. I told her: “They’ll likely ask for a hefty bail.” But my mother insisted, so I wrote the request. Then, one day, Lavasani came to the women’s ward, and I went to the office where he was. The prison officers, Ms Berenji and Ms Khaki, were also in the office, and I said: “I wrote a leave request and the wedding date is near. Will you approve the request?” He said: “Yes, I’m aware. I’ll approve your request on the condition that you become our spy in the women’s ward, and bring us information.” I said: “You have cameras and surveillance in the ward. You also have many staff in the prison. What do you need me for?” He said: “You have to do it.” I replied: “Thank you, but I won’t.” Then I left the office, feeling disappointed.

86. Some fellow inmates had some legal demands. I don’t have a higher education, and my writing skills aren’t good, but I prayed a lot, thought hard, and finally wrote a four-page letter addressed to the prosecutor’s office, ending it with the phrase: “Is there an ear to listen?” Then one day, my name was called and I went to the prison office. The prosecutor, Mr Dolatabadi, had read my letter and had come to the prison. He said to me: “You wrote, ‘Is there an ear ready to listen’? I want to say: ‘Yes, there is an ear to listen.’” So I talked to him about an Iraqi inmate named Basma, who was the manager of one of Baghdad’s large hotels. An Iranian diplomat had proposed to her and she had come to Iran and been accused of espionage, and wasn’t allowed to contact her four grown-up sons in Baghdad. I raised this issue with him, and when I returned to the ward, I found out that Basma had received permission to contact her children. I rejoiced!

Release from prison and continued threats

87. On 18 September 2013, almost four days before Mitra and I were due to be released, they came to our cell at midnight, turned on the light, and said: “Get up, pack your things; you’re free.” Mitra and I hadn’t yet packed and weren’t ready, so Mitra became annoyed and said: “You can’t just arrest us whenever you want, and free us whenever you want! Come on the scheduled date of our release to free us!” Ms Khaki asked us politely to get ready and leave the prison. She said: “If you don’t, the guards will come and take you by force, and beat you.” So at 2am, we left the prison with a soldier, who accompanied us to Mitra’s home in a taxi, and then returned. Mitra had a key, so we went inside and her mother found us there when she woke up in the morning.

88. For a long time after being released, I was sad and haunted by the faces of the inmates I had left behind. The quality of the prison food had been very poor. During those two and a half years, I often fasted and didn’t feel hungry; however, the other inmates longed for good quality and varied food, so every time I passed a restaurant or sandwich shop, I remembered their wishes and cried.

89. Mitra is an athlete, and after Faezeh’s release, she stayed in touch with her and they trained together for volleyball competitions [Faezeh Hashemi was a volleyball coach]. During the six months she was in prison, Faezeh had paid a lot of attention to other inmates. She had arranged for those inmates who had been released to have a few days of rest in a villa. She once invited Mitra and me there as well. She is a kind-hearted and lovely woman, and my friendship with her continues to this day.

90. After my release, the intelligence agents in Neyshabur kept contacting me, saying: “You’re under surveillance; if you try to resume your activities, we’ll arrest you again!” I couldn’t go to church, and wasn’t allowed to do any other Christian activities. In prison, an interrogator had told me: “Ms Jalili, you have now been arrested twice. There won’t be a third time. You’ll simply cross the street one day, and an iron beam will hit your head! Or a motorbike will suddenly run into you.” I still remember all their threats. I always used to pass by construction sites with fear, afraid they would deliberately drop an iron beam on my head.

91. A few months after my release, someone called me and said: “Congratulations on your release from prison. I’m the officer handling your case in Neyshabur. If you try to resume your previous activities, you’ll be dealing with me!” After this call, I saw clearly how easily I could end up in prison again. The Tehran case was closed, but the Neyshabur case was still pending.

Forced migration

92. While in prison, the Baha’i inmates had asked me many questions about Christianity, and I had tried to share all the knowledge I had from the Bible, and my experiences with God. Still, I felt that I lacked sufficient theological understanding, and I had a desire to take theological studies in Christianity. Mitra gave me a tablet for my birthday, and through Skype I contacted an experienced Christian teacher and talked to him about my situation and desire to study Christian theology. This teacher recommended that I leave the country to pursue this goal, as it was not feasible in Iran.

93. I had never intended to leave Iran, but I had to leave to escape the intense surveillance of the intelligence agents, and the lack of opportunity to go to church and study Christian theology. Therefore, in 2014, I travelled to Turkey.

94. In Turkey, I became acquainted with a church in the city of Kayseri, and its female pastor, so I went to that city and stayed there legally on a visa for three months, then applied for asylum. During all this time, my friendship with Mitra continued, and I continued to be supported by her. Mitra is an extraordinary and wonderful friend and sister that God has given to me. We have very different personalities, but are true friends.

95. While I was in prison, I thought no-one cared about us or prayed for us, but when I was in Turkey, I found out through our church pastor in Kayseri that the Article18 team had been active in advocacy for Mitra and me, and praying for us. Hearing this made me very happy.

96. After spending several years as a refugee, I finally moved to the United States in September 2018, and settled there. I keep in touch with my Christian friends in Iran, and they share their problems and issues with me. We pray together, and through the connections I have in Iran, I send them Bibles.

---

*Pseudonym.