What Iran Did to a Teenage Girl for Not Wearing a Hijab

http://www.frontpagemag.com/point/265331/what-iran-did-teenage-girl-not-wearing-hijab-daniel-greenfield

January 2, 2017

Daniel Greenfield

10

The useful idiots of the left push the Hijab as the ultimate civil right. Any criticism of it is deemed Islamophobic. Any concerns about the right of Muslim women and girls not to wear this instrument of bondage are mocked and dismissed. But here's the reality of life for women in a "Hijabi" culture.

Lying on the floor of a cold, crowded, dirty prison wasn’t how I’d pictured turning 16.  It was the day that changed my life forever.
Growing up in post-revolution Iran was tough as a young girl. The government had been overthrown in 1979 and the country became completely Islamic. With that came a new set of rules.
Alcohol was banned, clubs were shut down and women had to be covered head-to-toe in public.
We had parties where we were surrounded by boys and alcohol. Yes, we’d heard stories of friends who had been arrested for underage drinking and partying, but they seemed far-fetched. So to celebrate me and my friends all turning 16, my friend Neda threw a little party.
There were about 30 of us, a mix of boys and girls, and once at Neda’s I headed to her room to remove my hijab and change into my short skirt and high heels. Honestly, the party was tame – no booze, no drugs, just a load of kids listening to Mariah Carey.

And then the Islamic religious police showed up to enforce the law of Islam.

What happened next was a blur. I saw men storm in with guns, so I ran for the back door with Neda, and we sprinted down the street in our skirts and heels and only stopped when we heard the Basij shout, "Stop, or we’ll shoot."
Neda and I were marched back by the men, who held rifles to our heads and called us names. I had a vision of me being shot there, and my mum and dad sobbing over my dying body, ashamed at the sight of me in a mini skirt.
One of the Basij even saw me try to pull my skirt down to cover my thighs and shouted, "It’s too late to cover yourself up now, what kind of woman are you? You’re a disgrace."
I managed to stop shaking enough so they could cuff me, and boarded a bus that took us straight to the prison, filled with the party guests. At the prison, Neda and I sat on the cold, grimy floor crammed with criminals and drug addicts. I prayed my family would turn up to bail us out.
Only no one came that night. Or the next day. Me and Neda stopped chatting after the third day. The longer we were in there with no contact from our families, the more worried we became. Five days later, we were dragged up and marched to a court room, where we saw our terrified families for the first time since the arrest.
My initial feeling was relief. I assumed they’d been able to pay off the Basij, but
I was wrong. I was led to the judge and listened in shock as the court issued every single one of us girls with 40 lashes. The boys got 50. Our crimes? Wearing skirts and listening to western music.
Straight after sentencing, Neda and I were led into a room with a dirty single bed on either side. Forced to lie face-down on them, a woman covered head-to-toe dipped the whip in water (making it heavier, so more painful) and started the lashings. It must have lasted a minute, max, but it felt like hours and it was agonising – almost like being burned with a hot iron. I knew I was screaming loud enough for our families to hear from outside the room.

This is what the Hijab really means. For all the denials, this is what the left's favorite Islamists want to bring to the West.

Share

About Daniel Greenfield

Daniel Greenfield, a Shillman Journalism Fellow at the Freedom Center, is a New York writer focusing on radical Islam.
Read More