Nasim Lotfi


A wet morning on a non-special day, my mother gave birth to me and my father named me Nasim.
I was given an ID card by the Islamic Republic of Iran and was recognized as such…
At the age of 18, Nasim said yes to a marriage that was no less than slavery.
And at the age of 19, I said yes to a divorce in which my baby was taken from me in the name of the law.
I am Nasim, the mother, who went up and down the steps of the court to see her child.
I heard insults on the street
I was blamed at home
I demanded my right in front of every judge and I was denied
In social life, my abilities were ridiculed only because I was born a woman
Woman in my country means goods
That is a product
That is a slave
That is a slave for sex
And I as Nasim have felt all this with every cell in my body.
I decided to read the history of women of my country and write about what happened to the woman who was once the queen of this land, an admiral and not so long ago participated in the war by the side of men and was even martyred…
What happened, what catastrophe fell upon our men that we women became miserable and have to consent to the sentence: Take my dowry but give me freedom?
Read the rest of this meanness in the book…

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