A voice from Tehran's Evin Prison

Ava* is a young woman who came to the UK at an early age having fled Iran. Having arrived at the age of 12 speaking no English and with serious health problems she says that "I felt like a stranger (when I arrived). I could not speak the language or understand the culture".

Not long after arriving, Ava found herself having to navigate the asylum process despite her young age. "It did not help that the immigration process made our lives hell. Maybe people are not tortured physically in this country but the mental torture that they put us through was very hard to cope with".

Years on Ava now studies human rights at university and is actively interested in speaking out against injustice. She writes and draws about her feelings and the feelings of others particularly based on her experiences and those that she witnessed in Iran and then in the UK.

Prisoner of Evin was written originally in Persian after Ava woke up in the middle of the night from what she describes as a 'nightmare'. It is about detention and the fear and turmoil it must bring to many prisoners in the notorious Evin Prison in Tehran, Iran's capital.

Prisoner of Evin

I am singing but you are not here

I am singing from behind the walls that don't seem real

Walls which have been decorated with hanging heads

Of men who are no longer here

I live in fear that you come late

In fear that when you arrive

My ankles are accessorised with shackles and chains

The moment when the rope of death

Awaits silently for the call of my faith

My men

I am calling you from behind these walls

I am stretching my arms towards you

Waiting to hear your voice

I am waiting for your hands to break all this chains

I am waiting for your kindness to sooth all this pain

Oh, I can hear them walking towards my cell

The sound of army boots is making me go pale

They open the door, they attack towards me

My lifeless feet are dragged on the Evin's cell

And strong arms drag me to my feet

My shattered soul is now in tears

I can feel the cold stool underneath my feet

My body starts to shake but not from fear

My vision goes dark I can hardly see

The shake in my body is starting to ease

My heart beat is starting to decrease

The story of my life is flashing in front of my eye

Long pause...

And now I can feel my lonely neck

Being stroked by the rope of death