A victim’s story: A village girl named Parvaneh Chatani

 

 

 

 

Village girl

Martyr Parvaneh Chatani

18 years old

 

Date of martyrdom: 22 May 1980, Tyler Village

 

Life in the village is quieter than you might imagine and harder than you might experience. A soothing silence reigns over the village mornings; a silence that, with the sounds of animals and cattle, amidst the flickering sunlight shining through the tall branches of the trees and hills surrounding the village, promises the beginning of a busy day.

The villagers usually start their daily work before sunrise. The barn doors are opened and the livestock and poultry are brought out to be fed and grazed. In addition, the farm must be maintained and the children of the farmers are always working alongside their parents; they both study and learn the village’s work activities. They know that their parents cannot do everything alone and that they have to work harder than others for the bread they eat.

Meanwhile, the children of the village – both boys and girls – are the helpers of the family, alongside their parents. This life is harder than a city child can experience; but perhaps it is worth it because of the pleasant air and the silence without the roar of cars, horns, and smoke of the city.

Sometimes the sound of a tractor can be heard in the distance, but that too is a sign of a hard day of work, preparing the land for farming and replanting.

Even young children in the village have duties and, in addition to their studies and schooling, they are always involved in the village’s work. Opening the barn doors and taking care of the livestock and poultry, or feeding them, is often the responsibility of the young children. Fathers also go to the fields very early in the morning and start farming or take care of livestock. In the village, everyone has a duty and performs their duties without being recorded anywhere or anyone seeing them; duties that are ultimately necessary to provide for the family’s livelihood.

Martyr Parvaneh Chatani was a girl from Tyler village in Sanandaj province. She was born in the winter of 1962, in the last month of the year. She was the only daughter in the family and with her arrival she gave new life and soul to the house and became a mother. Having a daughter in a rural house means having another mother; a daughter is the soul of the house, the life of the house, the energy and beauty of the house.

Parvaneh experienced the sweet taste of life alongside her rural family despite all the hardships and problems. She was a young girl who, free from the hustle and bustle of the world and unaware of human greed, enjoyed the beauties of life in a beautiful village and alongside her family. Despite all the hardships of rural life, she was happy and helped her parents on the farm. She worked alongside them in planting, tending, and harvesting crops, and alongside them, she helped her father in taking care of livestock and poultry, taking the burden off the family.

The lives of village girls are filled with struggle and effort to learn how to run a family. They are taught from childhood to be strong mothers and capable wives for their rural environment. Parvaneh was no exception to this rule and despite her young age, she was a capable girl and the pillar of the family.

For some time, strange things had been happening in the village. Counter-revolutionary elements such as Komle and Democrat attacked villages to create chaos and harm the people, causing conflict and many problems for ordinary people. Although these incidents were never normal, they occurred frequently at that time. Counter-revolutionary elements tried to demonstrate their presence by creating insecurity and making the atmosphere appear anti-government. These riots occasionally led to bitter incidents, the main victims of which were innocent people whose only wish was to organize the lives of their children and bring halal bread to the family table.

On June 1, 1980, the village of Tyler witnessed one of these armed clashes. A group of counter-revolutionary elements affiliated with the Democratic terrorist group stormed the village with weapons and clashed with the residents. In the meantime, Parvaneh, who had left her house without warning and had gone out to do something, suddenly found herself in the middle of an armed clash; defenseless and unaware of what to do, she found herself in the middle of an armed conflict; she was faced with the weapons of the enemies of this nation. She had no idea about these events, and her sweet dreams were shattered by the deafening sound of gunfire and the pain of a hot, leaden bullet hit her body.

His fate, like many other innocent people who had tasted the greed and excess of evil people, suddenly changed. His dreams of building a beautiful future were shattered by others, and his pure blood was spilled on the streets of his childhood in the village. He had run for years in these same streets with his childish feet, had grown and grown tall. His childish games and daily efforts during his eighteen years of life had been shaped in this very soil; but suddenly he himself became a part of this soil, and his blood forever recorded the footprints of his footsteps in the memory of the village.

The villagers buried her pure body in the martyrs’ garden of Tyler village, and since then, the sound of a young girl’s presence among a handful of village soil has become the guardian of this land. She was the victim of the blind violence of some heartless people who, without any right, took the lives of innocent people and had in vain taken the name of humanity upon themselves; those who did not even think that every human being has the right to life. With their absurd thoughts, they imposed deep pain on a family, wasted a life, and deprived a parent of having their beloved child. In another world, they must answer for the countless blood they have unjustly shed on the earth.

The memory of the innocent people who have fallen to the ground in this land and whose innocent blood has been unjustly shed in the streets and alleys will never be erased from the minds and hearts of the people. The butterfly took flight among the people of the village and perhaps every spring, with a flock of free butterflies, among the flowers of the village, it watches from afar the memories of its childhood.