Kindness in Prison

Niki is a twenty three-year-old Iranian girl. She has been arrested by the Ministry of Intelligence because of writing a graffiti against the regime on a wall, and taken to a remote uncharted prison in a desert area. There, three interrogators, all of them women in black chador, have been interrogating her. She has been denying everything, despite they have a clip from a camera which has filmed her while writing the graffiti.

Niki is blindfolded, wearing a scarf and a mantua, and sweetening badly because of the hot weather as well as the mental pressure. She is sitting on a chair, facing a wall, while the three women are sitting behind her, in a half-circle.

"Why don't you just admit it?" One of the women asked Niki, "The clip is undeniable evidence. What do you think happens if it's presented in a court? You'll go to jail, perhaps for three years. You'll be kept along with drug dealers, rapists, and killers. Aside from that, we'll make sure you can never find a job again."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Niki answered, sounding sad and desperate, "That's not me. The clip has a poor quality, and doesn't show the face clearly."

"Look again," said another woman, as she removed her blindfold for a few seconds to show her the clip for the fifth time, "That's you. There is no doubt about it."

"No, it isn't. I want to contact my family. I want a lawyer."

"Would you like anything else?" asked the same woman in a mocking tone, "Room service, a masseur?" The women laughed together, and Niki felt more uncomfortable. "Ah! She stinks!" the woman said, before sitting down. Niki hadn't had a shower or changed her clothes for days.

"Fine," said a woman who sounded like their boss, "we don't need you to admit it. We are here to get to know you better. Let's talk about something else. What do you usually do for fun?"

"Movies, music."

"Do you have a fiancee? A boyfriend?"

"No."

"I have your cell phone here. This picture, dated two weeks ago, showing you standing by some girls," The boss woman said, looking at a recent picture which showed Niki happy and smiling, an expression which had left her face since she was arrested, "Who are they? What's the occasion?"

"They are my friends. It was a birthday party."

"What about all these pictures of foreign women? It's not very common thing to have, is it? What are you into?"

"They are just actresses, singers. There is nothing illegal."

"Oh my god!" the boss woman almost screamed, as if she had discovered something important, "The way you dress, your attitude, these pictures ... Are you a lesbian?"

"No!" Niki answered, sounding agitated.

"I knew something wasn't right about you!"

"You are right," said another woman, "It's so obvious. Why didn't we notice it before?"

The same woman who had showed her the clip ordered, "Niki, remove your scarf."

"No!" she answered, sounding scared.

"Come on. There is no man here. If someone should be scared in this situation, that's us, not you."

Niki refused, and stayed quiet, motionless.

The woman got up, and removed her scarf, then victoriously stated, "Look, her hair is short, almost boyish."

"So what?" Niki asked in anger, "Many girls have short hair."

The woman touched Niki's hair, pulling it slightly as if inspecting it. "It is not just the hair. Tell me, do you imagine yourself as a man? Is that why you wrote those slogans on walls? To prove you are a man? The desperation among girls like you is always the same. They think they can hide behind art or politics, but the truth is simply that they cannot find a man to love them, so they pretend they do not need one."

"Do your parents know?" the boss woman asked.

"There is nothing to know," she answered, sounding nervous, "you are just imagining things."

The three women looked at each other and smiled, knowing they had find her weak spot.

"Perhaps we should have a talk with your parents, and your manager at work," The other woman said, "they have a right to know what kind of person they have in their house or workplace. Your female colleagues, they should know what's going on in your head, and how you see them."

Niki felt a sudden surge of panic. She told herself that they were bluffing, but it didn't help. The idea of people at work hearing such things terrified her.

"Have you ever been sexually involved with another woman?" the boss woman asked her.

"I already told you, there is nothing to talk about."

The woman searched the messages on her phone. "Oh my! Look, they send kisses and hearts to each other. Are these the same girls in the picture?"

"Those are just my friends. Sometimes we send emojis for each other."

"Friendship is not how I describe it, Niki. These words, this intimacy, this secret language you share. It is not the way decent girls speak to one another." reading more messages, she added, "I see you have had sleepovers. Tell me, what did you do at night, when you were alone in bedroom?"

"Those are my private messages!" she yelled, "You have no right to read them!"

They laughed at her. The boss looked at the other two women, and said, "Wow! She thinks she has rights. How adorable!"

One of them kicked the chair Niki was sitting on, and yelled, "Answer the question!"

"We talked, watched some TV, and then we slept."

"If you hadn't lied about the graffiti earlier, I may have believed you," the boss said, "but not now. I believe you are a dirty pervert, corrupted, and corrupting the others. You need to be kept away from the society, specially the young people. That's why you'll go to prison. I'll speak with the judge, explain to him what kind of person you are, show him what we just discovered, and ask him to give you the maximum sentence. Three years."

Niki felt her heart beating faster. Such a long prison time would have changed the course of her life forever. She remembered the horrible stories she had heard about prisons, about people getting bullied, raped, and murdered there. Kahrizak prison, where women prisoners were sent, was not even made for humans. It was made for keeping animals, and turned into a prison with minimal changes.

"It's prayer time," the same woman said, "and then lunch. And Perhaps time to call the parents of these girls, letting them know what kind of creature they had let into their houses. Their house numbers are on your phone. I'll call them after the prayer."

"No! Don't!" Niki said nervously, "They have nothing to do with the situation. You'll only worry them. They won't believe you."

"Maybe they believe, maybe they don't. But I'll tell them anyhow. That's my moral duty. Besides, if you are sure they won't believe me, why are you so worried?"

They closed Niki's scarf, stood her up, put her hands in cuffs from the back, put a long black chador on her head in a way that the fabric covered all her face and body, and pushed her against corner of the room, where she faced the wall.

She couldn't see, but heard the three woman leaving, and a guard entering the room. Before leaving, the boss woman told the guard, "Make sure she doesn't sit down, move, or talk. Keep her in exactly the same position until we come back."

Time passed slowly. Everything was dark under the chador and blindfold. The weather was getting hotter, and her clothes were wet with sweat. She was thirsty, but was afraid to ask for water.

The guard was bored, and after a while, kicked her leg. "What did you do?"

It was a man's voice. "Nothing." she answered.

"Nothing!" he repeated in a mocking tone.

Niki was very thirsty, so she thought now that they had started talking, she could ask for water.

"Please, can I have some water?"

The guard kicked her again, this time harder and on her waist, causing her head to hit the wall.

"Do you think this is a hotel?"

Niki realized her mistake, and remained quiet.

The man continued, "Have you heard of Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib? Do you know what they do to prisoners there? Of course, this place is a hotel compared to them."

She knew any argument would only make him more angry, and didn't say anything. It took a long time for the women interrogators to come back. They sent away the guard.

They removed the chador on her head, and sat her down in the same position as before, but kept her hands in cuffs.

"Ah! She reeks!" one of them said.

Another one noticed the bruise on her head. She touched it, and asked, "How did this happen?"

"The guard hit me."

"Why?"

"I asked for water."

"We clearly said that you shouldn't talk, didn't we? He was just doing his job."

"I called the family of your friends," the boss woman told Niki, "I told them about you, about the things I discovered. They were shocked."

Niki was about to cry from all the physical and mental pressure, but fought hard to stop herself.

"We also found pictures of places that were bombed during the war on your phone. Are you working for Israel or America?"

"No. I just took some pictures from the window of our house. I didn't send them to anyone. Everyone could see those places from far away. Even the television news reported them, and showed scenes of those places as well."

"But still, that's a crime. Five more years in prison, plus the confiscation of your properties. Did you know that your father must be held responsible for this act as well? It was his house, so he should have stopped or reported you. Getting fired from his job is the least consequence for him."

"My family has nothing to do with it," Niki answered in desperation, "It was all me. They didn't notice at all."

"I find that hard to believe, specially from a liar like you. But, maybe we can come to an understanding. Accept that you are guilty, admit everything, and I try to get you the minimum sentence. Just one year."

"No."

"Okay, let's see what we have then. Three years for graffiti, five years for spying, confiscation of all your properties, including your car and bank accounts, getting fired from your job, lashes for homosexual relationships, your reputation vanishing, and that's aside from the consequences for your family and friends."

The boss woman leaned closer, and almost whispered in her ear. "One year, Niki. A signature on a piece of paper and you go home for now, until the trial. And who knows, if you work with us, give us valuable information, you can avoid going to prison. We may even reward you, help you get a promotion at your job."

"No."

"Fine. The deal is off the table then. Now, the best deal you get, if you confess and cooperate, is moving from detention to prison. You'll remain in custody for as long as we see fit."

The interrogation went on until the night. They asked about all details of her life, repeated their questions, and made Niki write the answers. By the time the interrogation ended, her hand was in pain from writing so much.

When they were finally done, the boss looked at the other two women, smiled, and asked in a mocking tone, "So, what should we do with her? We can't put her in a cell with normal women, can we?"

"And risk her touching the others at night?" one of them answered, "No!"

"Then the only option is a solitary cell." the boss said, "You hear that Niki? You'll stay in solitary confinement until you confess. I don't care how long it takes. We'll come back in a month to talk again. If you change your mind until then, good for you. If not, we'll come back a month later."

"Can I call my parents? Just to tell them I'm okay."

"Sure. Confess, sign the paper, and call whoever you like."

Niki sighed in disappointment. The woman continued, "Then no. This doesn't change as long as you are here."

The guards took her to a small cell, about the size of a closet. She finally drank water. It tasted bad, but she had no choice. The dinner was baked potato and bread. She forced herself to eat it.

There was no bed. She just laid on the ground, unable to sleep, and thought. Not knowing what was happening out there was the worst part of her suffering. Questions like how her family was doing, how the parents of her friends thought about her - that is if the woman had called them at all - how this whole thing affected her future, and many others, kept her mind busy.

She thought of confessing, of cooperating with her captors, but then realized that her life becomes meaningless if she does it, and she would hate herself for the rest of her life if she does anything like that. But she couldn't help thinking about it, until she finally went to sleep.