Biography of Anarchist Fighters of Iran’s Geography (No. 8)

I was born in 2000 but look much older than my age. As a child, I had to work like an adult. Every time my older brother attacked my mother and beat her for drug money, I thought I had failed to bring enough cash. No matter how hard I tried, a child’s salary and abilities were limited, but my questions were unending. Next to every problem, I put a why, why I don’t have a father, why my brother tore my eardrum, why my mother’s face and hands are always bruised, why our food is different from other people’s food, why our clothes are old, why our neighbors hate us, why did my sister divorce her husband, why did my sister kill herself, why is there no equality in society, why did the police never come to help us? Why? Why? Why?

From childhood, I became an adult overnight, and my questions became more mature. I no longer had a mother to worry about losing and a brother to fear. Enthusiasm for building and fighting against the sickly governmental social structures was an indescribable motivator for me. I found my real family by connecting with anarchist comrades online. I know nothing but struggle, and my heart beats with the energy of my anarchist comrades. Whenever we go out for an activity or an operation, I tell myself that there is freedom in front of us that is staring at me and is restless for us to reach him. That day is near, whether I’m there to see it or not, because I am side by side with fighters who are hard as steel and clear as water.

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