Christchurch-based Iranian Kiwi on women’s fight for freedom in Islamic republic

Christchurch-based Kurdish Iranian woman Hero Modares wants Kiwis to know how brave young women in Iran are, as they fight for human rights denied by the Iranian regime's strict interpretation of Sharia Law. Photo / Martin Hunter

Hero Modares can’t watch the footage coming out of Iran, where an uprising of mostly young women is taking on a governing theocracy whose strict interpretation of Islam’s Sharia Law has oppressed their sex for decades.

The Kurdish Iranian left her country of birth in 2006, studying in Kuala Lumpur for seven years before starting a new life in Christchurch, where she’s a senior network engineer for Kiwibank and - since 2019 - a New Zealand citizen.

But while she finds herself turning away from the images of protests and demonstrations that have already cost more than 250 lives, among them children, it’s not without heartache.

“I’m so, so sad of losing [protesters] that I can’t watch the footage. Because I blame myself, I feel I cannot say anything to them.

“I want to say, ‘please don’t give up’. But it’s something selfish. We’re sleeping [in New Zealand] and we don’t know, when we wake up, how many people we lost.”

The most serious challenge to Iran’s authoritarian regime in decades began in September following the death of Mahsa Amini after she was arrested by morality police for allegedly breaking the country’s strict rules requiring women to cover their hair with a hijab, or headscarf.

There were reports police officers beat the 22-year-old’s head with a baton, while police say she suffered a heart attack. Authorities further incensed ordinary Iranians when, to support their claims, they released footage of Amini collapsing in a police station, and in a coma, BBC reported.

Protests on the streets of Iran in September. Photo / AP

Women took to the streets, setting their headscarves on fire and cutting their hair, and chanting “Woman, life, freedom” and “Death to the dictator” - a reference to Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.

Even the schoolyard has become a place of protest for Iran’s youngest citizens, while men and teenage boys have also shown solidarity with women.

The protesters want freedom but have instead been met with tear gas, batons, pellets, paint and, in some cases, bullets as security forces crack down on the uprising.

And that’s just what’s been captured on video and made it out of a country where independent media is barred and internet and phone services hobbled.

“The things you’ve maybe seen in the media about those protests, it’s more than that, believe me,” Modares said.

“They’re torturing people … [and] they’re killing people very easily. So if they say ‘maybe 200 people died in two weeks’, it’s not 200.

“It might be 500.”

She’s been lobbying New Zealand MPs - the Government was largely silent on Iran until it was able to negotiate the exit of detained Kiwi influencers Topher Richwhite and Bridget Thackwray late last month - and organising vigils in support of those fighting for freedom.

“Sometimes I feel so guilty that I cannot do more than that.”

What she can do is tell Kiwis about life as a woman in Iran since a popular uprising toppled the country’s monarchy in February 1979 - the month before Modares was born - and which led to the establishment of an Islamic republic.

The restrictions went far beyond the dress code that requires every female aged 9 and over - and younger if they’re in school - to cover their whole body, including their hair.

Women couldn’t go anywhere with a man who’s not their husband, father or brother, and dancing and singing are also banned.

“If I go out with any man that isn’t my father or brother … the morality police would put me in jail. Or they might force me to get married to him because we were walking in the street together.

“[With singing] the rule is that ‘men shouldn’t hear women singing’.”

Make-up isn’t illegal “but the morality police don’t like it,” Modares said.

“You might be arrested for that.”

And while 60 per cent of Iranian university students are female, women face discrimination in the workforce, with less than 20 per cent of the labour force women.

Hero Modares, pictured in traditional Kurdish dress, loves her home country of Iran, but left because of its oppression of its citizens, most especially women and girls. Photo / Martin Hunter

There had been protests in the past, but none like this, the 43-year-old said.

Social media and satellite TV had opened the world up to Iranians in a way that wasn’t possible when she was young and the only media in Iran was state-run.

“We’re really proud of the young generation, they’re really, really brave. The things they’re doing, we couldn’t do that.

“We grew up educated that … we have to accept whatever they’re saying. But the new generation, they’re not accepting these things … and we’re really hoping this time is different than previous times.”

People were burning their headscarves, but that didn’t mean they were against them - most of those protesting are Muslim - they just wanted freedom of choice, Modares said.

“It’s not about Islam, it’s not about hijab. It’s about human rights … if you watch the footage from before the revolution, you can see ladies sitting together, one wearing full hijab, one wearing semi-hijab and one of them just nothing.

“But they were all sitting together. The country was heaven at that time.”

Modares hasn’t been back to Iran since 2017. A reunion in September with her parents, who still live in the country, took place in neighbouring Turkey because of safety concerns.

She doesn’t know if she’ll ever return.

“It was really, really difficult [to emigrate to New Zealand] but I didn’t have any choice because I didn’t want to go back to Iran … I told myself ‘this is one way, you have to make it’ and I’m really happy that I didn’t give up and I made it.

“Iran is a really nice country … the north of Iran is always green, the same as New Zealand, the people are really kind and helpful, and they take care of each other, but the regime is totally different than that.

“Iran, my heart is still there, but it was not a place that I could stay. I couldn’t be myself.”