SABAH (110)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami
Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

2022-6-7

SABAH (110)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami

Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

Published by Soore Mehr Publishing Co.

Persian Version 2019

Chapter Twenty Nine

In the year 1989 the Ministry of Education of Khorramshahr invited back its teachers to work. Shahnaz was among the first who decided to go back and continue her job.

Once when my mother and I had gone to see Shahnaz in Khorramshahr, I saw that the Ministry of Health has established a clinic near Allah square. For once an idea came to my mind. I told myself to go and see how the clinic working condition is. I really wanted to stay in Khorramshahr like Shahnaz and work there. I went to the head of the clinic. I introduced myself and said that I am from Khorramshahr and a midwife and work in Tehran. Now I like to work here if possible and serve my fellow-citizens.

He welcomed my decision with joy and said: “We need committed individuals like you in this clinic. If you join us, I will give you the responsibility of clinic for women.”

Having or not having a responsibility was not important to me. I wanted to lighten the pains of my fellow-citizens and that was enough.

I returned to Tehran and presented my transfer request to Khorramshahr, to the person in charge of education unit of Tehran University in Ministry of Health and Treatment. It was interesting for them to see a person requesting to be transferred from Tehran to a war-stricken city like Khorramshahr. They arranged everything and handed me over my file.

In order to start my job, I had to get an introduction letter from Ministry of Health of capital of province. When they saw my file, they said: “You have to go through the selection process again.” I said: “I have gone through this process less than a year ago.” They said: “This is the law here.”

I gave the names of some individuals such as Mr. Islami and some of my colleagues in Islamic Development Organization of Ahwaz and said: “Agreed, so I will wait for your response.” The selection process which they said would take one day or mostly one month, kept me waiting for six months and every time I approached them for work, they answered me carelessly. During these six months, my job was in suspended state. I was neither employed, nor in service and nor fired. During these six months I went to Ahwaz to understand what is going on but every time they answered me not clearly and at the end I was obliged to get my file and return to Tehran.

After so long, I really had no hope to return to Omid hospital, but when I gave them a brief description of what had happened to me to the authorities; they let me return to work.

 In the second month of summer of 1990 the war captives returned to the country. Their arrival brought a special joy in the streets and avenues of Iran. We were extremely happy to see Ali just like many other families like us who had prisoners. My mother was so restless that we were worried for her. After all those hardships and stresses during the war years, non-presence of Ali and my father’s death, this amount of anxiety was not good for her and might endanger her health.

Finally Ali returned home after years of waiting. About ten years passed since we had seen him last. He had changed a lot. Apart from physical appearance that he had turned into a man, he had changed mentally a lot too. He had a lot to tell us.

After his return, for a long time all relatives, friends and fellow soldiers came to our house; we couldn’t find a time to sit and talk to him and see him. We had to be patient for having him back…

In the year 1990 I married the son of one of our old friends called Behrouz Dalvand[1]. My son Mojtaba was born in 1991 and my daughter Mahya was born in 1993 and brought warmth to our lives.

I was busy in hospital until 2001. Besides working and looking after my children, I studied industrial designing in AlZahra University. I had studied midwifery for war; so that when I want to work in a hospital or any other treatment center, I won’t be condemned to interfering in others affairs. Although I was successful in this job, but it was not what I deeply wanted. I was interesting and had great talent in delicate technical tasks and really wanted to be active in this field. My years of studies in this field, were good and successful. I was so interested in my studies that I didn’t notice how hard they were and they seemed like a leisure activity to me. When I was in class, I felt better than ever. 

During my studies in the field of industrial designing I had to spend two units of plan for a few hours in a workshop. Among different courses, I selected molding of gold and spent my course in a workshop in Tehran with success. Since then I became interested to work with gold; this interest continued and I participated in a training course to become a master in gold making art in the organization of technical vocational. I got accepted in the final exam and got the permission to have an academy.

I established an academy in Taleghani Avenue with my own saving. I called my academy Glittering stone. Many individuals welcomed and showed interest in my academy very sooner than I expected. The classes for females was in the morning and in the evenings the classes were for men. My students were not less than twenty in each class. On the contrary to many of the instructors that didn’t teach the secret skills to their students, I taught them all I knew. I taught the students with silver in the workshop.

When the education of the students ended, I introduced them to the gold making workshops which I had identified earlier. I wanted to support them until they start getting results. When I saw them independent and found that they are earning, I enjoyed a lot.

Little by little my work became so known that I had to hire another instructor to be able to address the high number of students. The income of the academy was much more than what I thought. Despite all this I was not satisfied with myself and didn’t feel happy. At night when I went to bed tired and worn out, as soon as I closed my eyes, the scene of streets of destructed Khorramshahr and the people who were dealing with poverty and unemployment, appeared in front of my eyes.

On those days “building” was the motto of the government; a motto which remained just a word in Khorramshahr and wasn’t able to make anything for the devoted and brave people of that area.

To be continued …