Supports from Guilds and Bazaars peaple

Memoirs of Haj Hossein Fathi

Selected by Faezeh Sasanikhah
Translated by Kianoush Borzouei

2025-7-21

Our base of operations had become the Saheb al-Zaman Mosque in the Kamp-Lou neighborhood of Ahvaz. With the assistance of Brother Khani and his companions, we began preparing hot meals and sending them to the frontlines. We ourselves, along with several fellow merchants from the bazaar, entered the conflict zone, bringing warm clothing, overcoats, and socks, which we distributed among the combatants before returning to the mosque. We were again reminded of the displaced and war-affected people. It was unanimously decided to prepare an additional pot of hot food the following day, dedicated to the war refugees. Parviz, with his pickup truck, regularly commuted between the front and the mosque, and from there to the neighborhoods where the displaced had been sheltered. Each time, a few brothers accompanied him to distribute food. This effort expanded daily, and before long, the mosque had transformed into the primary base of operations for the fighters. We constructed several showers and sleeping quarters next to the mosque to accommodate those who had to spend the night in Ahvaz.

We purchased several refrigerators and freezers to store perishable food. Khani would welcome the fighters with clean underclothing and, at times, warm garments after they had bathed. Trucks loaded with food supplies and basic necessities began arriving from Tehran and other towns, heading directly to the mosque. Soon after, we established another outpost in Susangerd, which became a gathering place for fighters in the vicinity of Susangerd and Karkheh, where meals were cooked and distributed. The Shahid Chamran^[1] Group, operating under the banner of the Irregular Warfare Headquarters, was engaged in guerrilla combat against the Iraqi Army in the area. The scope of our operations steadily grew. A group of brothers from Zamyad Factory in Tehran arrived in Ahvaz and took over a school near the Susangerd Bridge, contributing in every way necessary to support the fighters. A Zeynabiyyeh was also established by grassroots volunteers to support both the combatants and those wounded or displaced by the war.

I realized that there was an acute need for water tankers to address the fighters’ basic needs for drinking and washing. I contacted the brothers from the Zamyad Factory and proposed that I would provide the metal sheets while they would bring the equipment needed to construct the tanks right there on site. I then reached out to the Basij of the Guilds, requesting galvanized and iron sheets. They consulted with the relevant trade unions and succeeded in sending us a significant quantity. With the arrival of the materials, we began producing six 2,000-liter tankers daily, which we dispatched to areas in need based on demand. Over time, we implemented a coupon system: during our visits to the frontlines or conflict areas, whenever we noticed a need for water tanks, we issued a voucher so the local authorities could collect one from us.

One evening, just before sunset, a truckload of rice from Gilan arrived. The driver came to the mosque in haste, eager to unload so he could head back immediately. I instructed the brothers to quickly offload the truck. Meanwhile, I warned the driver that he might not be able to pass the checkpoint at night, as movement was restricted. I advised him to stay the night and sleep in the resting area we had set up for the fighters. He seemed suspicious, perhaps thinking I was trying to detain him. He quickly unloaded the goods and left—but not long after, he returned, head bowed, and asked for a place to sleep. I gave him a blanket so he could stay the night in the mosque. He was accompanied by another man, whom I initially assumed was his assistant. They accepted the blankets reluctantly and settled down. That night, I was preparing essential supplies for refugees in Shadgan, who had recently been relocated there. We had secured the supplies, but lacked transportation. I was seated at a small sewing table in the mosque, with an oil lamp providing light, compiling an inventory of the items. The driver and his companion sat beside me and asked what I was doing. I replied: “This is your first time at the front, isn’t it?” He admitted it was. I said: “From how urgently you wanted to leave, I could tell. I tried to warn you that night travel was restricted, but you wouldn’t believe me.” I began explaining the circumstances of the war, the sad state of the displaced, and the nature of our work: “There are two heartbreaking situations here. On one hand, there are selfless men at the front, holding the line against the enemy, often struggling even for their daily meals, yet steadfast in ensuring the enemy doesn’t penetrate our borders.
On the other hand, there are civilians—women, children, the elderly—whose homes have been bombed into rubble. They are displaced, homeless, and their only hope lies in God—and in the support of their fellow countrymen who still live in peace far from the front. What I’m doing here is listing items—rugs, heaters, cooking utensils, clothes, and basic necessities—for a group of these defenseless people in Shadgan. But since the roads are under Iraqi control, we must circle around through Abadan and Sadd-e Bandar to reach them. The journey is long, and we must return by night. I’m organizing everything now in the hope that we can find a vehicle early tomorrow and deliver the goods.”

He asked if I had transportation. I replied no. He offered: “Would you like me to take you?” Overjoyed, I thanked him warmly and kissed his cheek, then suggested we rest for the night and depart after morning prayers. I lowered the lamp’s wick, and we each laid down and slept. At dawn, we departed for Shadgan. A few merchant brothers from Tehran were waiting for us there. After passing the Sadd-e Bandi junction, I noticed, through the side mirror, someone furiously waving a coat in the air to catch our attention. We reversed. A visibly anxious man shouted:v“Where are you headed?” I said, “Sadd-e Bandar, and then to Shadgan.” Distressed, he said: “You’re driving straight into enemy lines! A few hundred meters more, and the Iraqis would’ve captured you!” He pointed us in the correct direction, and we continued with immense gratitude and praise to God. We arrived in Shadgan, distributed the household goods among the people, met with our companions, and returned to Ahvaz by nightfall. At the mosque, I learned that the man I’d assumed was the driver’s assistant was named Khosh-Ghalb, from Roodband, Langarud. He had accompanied the driver to assess the situation in the south. He asked where we sourced the supplies. I explained: “In Tehran, we speak at mosques and gatherings about the frontlines and the needs of both fighters and war refugees. With the help of merchants and the Islamic associations of various guilds, we collect donations and deliver them here. People give generously—money, essentials, whatever they can spare. We don’t consider ourselves to be doing anything great; we simply serve as the means through which people’s gifts reach those who need them.” I told him that the following day we would be sending another round of aid to the region.

Though they had initially been so eager to return that same night, they stayed several days, and we used their truck to deliver goods to various locations we had planned to support. Upon parting, Khosh-Ghalb said: “When I return to Langarud, I’ll share everything I’ve seen with my fellow townspeople. I’ll come back with full hands.” After their departure, few companions and I also returned to Tehran. A week later, upon returning to Ahvaz, I saw Khosh-Ghalb again—this time he had brought eleven trucks filled with supplies from the north, delivering them directly to the mosque. They planned to assist Abadan, which was under siege. Entry was only possible via water routes. Khosh-Ghalb, using a tugboat, delivered the supplies across the water to Abadan. After ten days, he returned and said: “Abadan’s need is urgent. I’m heading back and going straight there.”^[2]