The Minibus: A Turn of Fate
In memory of Azim Rezaee and Siavash Salehi
By: Cyrus Mahan
In a remote corner of the country’s sultry south, where the sun blazed down mercilessly, lay a prison shrouded in desolation. Here, within its grim and towering walls, the inmates were occasionally afforded a brief respite: a chance to step out into the yard and soak in a few precious moments of fresh air, a transient escape from their confined existence.
During these fleeting periods of liberty, an unusual fusion of worlds occurred. Political prisoners, incarcerated for their dissenting views and ideologies, found themselves mingling with a diverse assemblage of other inmates. This gathering was a tapestry of varied backgrounds, predominantly populated by those caught in the intricate web of narcotics. Users and dealers, each carrying a tale etched by life’s harsh strokes, formed the bulk of this group. Among them, there were innocents, unwittingly swept up in the unforgiving tide of justice. Like in any crowd of non-political prisoners, there were also the turncoats – individuals who had shifted allegiances, perhaps in a bid for survival or lesser sentences, spies that in the language of prison called antennas or dishes.
Each inmate, regardless of their past, shared the commonality of life behind bars. Their stories, while unique, were now intertwined in the shared narrative of imprisonment. In this isolated world, under the scorching sun, the yard became a rare sanctuary, a brief haven from the relentless monotony and harsh realities of prison life.
This prison, with its foreboding presence, had not always been a house of incarceration. Its history traced back to its days as a barracks, a temporary abode for soldiers. The army had once thrived within its walls, filling the air with their disciplined routine and camaraderie. However, as they moved on, the barracks stood empty, a silent witness to the passage of time.
The 1980s heralded a turbulent era, marked by a surge in arrests. The regime, overwhelmed by the swelling numbers of detainees, scoured for any space that could be repurposed into a prison. It was in these desperate times that the abandoned barracks found its new, albeit grim, purpose. Transformed into a prison, it became a reluctant sanctuary for those fallen afoul of the law, their stories intertwining within its storied walls.
In the prison yard, under the vast, open sky, a chance encounter unfolded between two political prisoners, Azim and Siavash, and an inmate known as Aziz. Aziz was a familiar face within the prison walls, known for his recurring stints behind bars that spanned as far back as Azim and Siavash could remember.
Standing tall and imposing, Aziz was a figure that was hard to miss. His height nearly touched the two-meter mark, casting a long shadow in the yard. His life had been entangled in the throes of addiction, a battle he fought daily. To support his habit, he dabbled in petty drug dealing, primarily dealing with heroin. This substance, notorious for its grip on the lives of many, was the drug that had led Aziz down the path to his repeated incarcerations.
Aziz, with his diverse array of skills, stood out for his exceptional talent in communication. He had an innate ability to engage people in conversation, skillfully using his words to persuade and subtly influence his listeners. Aziz had a way of presenting himself as a trustworthy individual, often portraying himself as being at odds with the prison administration, which added to his appeal among the inmates.
In the confining world of the prison, Aziz’s interactions with the political prisoners stood in stark contrast to his demeanor with others. His history, marred by crimes mirroring those of many inmates, did little to obscure a certain affinity he held for the political prisoners. It was in his subtle gestures, the way he’d linger a moment longer in their conversations or offer a nod of understanding at their debates, that his leaning became evident. This unspoken camaraderie, forged in the shared harshness of their environment, positioned Aziz as an inadvertent ally in their eyes. To them, he wasn’t just another face in the sea of convicts; he was a silent, understanding figure who, in his own way, sided with their cause, making his presence a subtly reassuring element in their daily prison life.
There were persistent rumors circulating within the prison walls that Aziz had, on several occasions, managed to smuggle bank books and journals into the prison, discretely passing them into the hands of the political prisoners. These acts, if true, were not just bold but also risky, suggesting a deeper layer to Aziz’s character and his connections both inside and outside the prison. These rumors, while unconfirmed, added to his mystique and reputation among the prison population.
Aziz, with his easygoing charm and skillful way with words, found himself slowly weaving a network of trust with the prison guards. His affable nature was disarming; he had a knack for conversation that resonated even with the sternest of guards. It wasn’t just his words but his manner — a nod here, a timely joke there, and an uncanny ability to listen when needed. These small, everyday interactions, bridling the gap between inmate and guard, gradually cemented a rapport that was rare within the high walls of the prison.
This burgeoning relationship with the guards ushered in opportunities that were unheard of for someone in Aziz’s position. Recognizing his reliability and perhaps swayed by his amiable disposition, the prison authorities began to entrust him with responsibilities that extended beyond the usual confines of his incarceration. It was an unusual, almost unprecedented arrangement. Aziz found himself tasked with duties that took him outside the prison walls, a privilege that was as much a testament to his persuasive abilities as it was a sign of the trust he had managed to build with those in charge.
In this new role, Aziz navigated a world between freedom and confinement, a unique position that offered him glimpses of the outside world, albeit briefly and under watchful eyes. Yet, it was more than most inmates could dream of, and in this delicate balance, Aziz treaded a line that few others could, blending his role as an inmate with the rare liberties afforded to him through this special arrangement.
One of his primary responsibilities was to ensure the delivery of meals to a smaller detention facility. This facility, located about 5 kilometers east of the main prison, was a holding center for detainees awaiting their trial. The food, prepared under strict guidelines in the main prison kitchen, needed to be transported daily, and Aziz was the chosen conduit for this task.
His role involved not just the physical transportation of the food but also ensuring its safe and timely delivery. This task required a level of trust and responsibility rarely afforded to inmates, reflecting the unique position Aziz had carved out for himself within the prison’s ecosystem. This duty also provided him with a semblance of freedom and a break from the monotonous routine of prison life, as he journeyed back and forth between the two facilities.
The nature of Aziz’s role as the driver responsible for transporting daily meals to the jail captivated the interest of the two political prisoners, especially considering the potential opportunities it offered.
Azim and Siavash, whose roots were deeply embedded in the modest soil of the working class, found themselves irresistibly drawn to the burgeoning revolution during their formative years. The nation was pulsating with the rhythms of change – streets brimming with protestors, the air resonant with the chants of liberation, and the collective heartbeat of a populace yearning to upend the monarchy. Amidst this tumultuous backdrop, the two young men found their calling, their hearts aflame with revolutionary fervor.
Their commitment to the cause was more than just a political stance; it was a leap of faith into an uncertain future, a future they envisioned as brighter and more just. Azim, at the time a second-year mechanical engineering student, saw in the revolution a pathway to reshape his country with the same precision and ingenuity that he applied to his studies. Siavash, having recently completed high school, stood at a crossroads, eager to embark on his university journey, his ambitions intertwined with the revolutionary tide.
Their youthful idealism was a beacon that guided them, yet it was tinged with the naivety of not fully grasping the complexities and eventual repercussions of the post-revolutionary landscape. For Azim and Siavash, the revolution was not merely a political upheaval; it was a personal crusade, a defining chapter in their journey of growth and self-discovery. They were not just participants in a historical event; they were young dreamers caught in the whirlwind of change, hopeful yet unaware of the twists their paths would take in the aftermath of the revolution.
The fall of the monarchy, a victory in their eyes, soon revealed its bittersweet nature. While they had succeeded in dethroning the king, they found themselves plunged into another calamitous situation. The departure of one dictator had given way to the rise of a new, even more oppressive regime. This unforeseen turn of events left the young revolutionaries in a state of disillusionment and betrayal.
Faced with this new reality, Azim, Siavash, and their contemporaries were compelled to engage in the political landscape once again. They found themselves caught in a relentless cycle, fighting against a monstrous system that had taken hold. Their dreams of freedom and democracy were now overshadowed by the harsh reality of what their revolution had inadvertently birthed. This new phase of their struggle was marked by resilience and a renewed sense of purpose, as they navigated the complexities of a transformed nation.
Aziz, entangled in a life of crime and trapped in a cycle of drug involvement, faced a precarious situation. Rumors circulated about his illicit activities, including smuggling drugs into prison. This allegation, once discovered by the guards, led to the possibility of an extended sentence for Aziz. Amidst these circumstances, there were whispers of a sinister plot. Some believed Aziz was coerced into a deceptive scheme, targeting Azim and Siavash, two political prisoners, with the promise of a false escape plan. Others speculated that it was Azim and Siavash who initially concocted the escape strategy, only to be betrayed by Aziz, who divulged their plan.
The escape plan, though simple in concept, required precise execution. The strategy revolved around the limited recreational time granted to prisoners, typically once or twice a week. During one of these sessions, the plan was for the two political prisoners, Azim and Siavash, to deliberately lag behind, avoiding re-entry into the main prison hall amidst the chaos and hurry of the other inmates. Unnoticed by the guards in the frenzy, they would then stealthily conceal themselves behind the large kitchen in the prison yard.
Aziz’s role was crucial. He was to approach in a minibus, discretely opening the trunk near their hiding spot. Azim and Siavash would then swiftly jump into the trunk, taking cover. To further obscure their presence, Aziz was to place two sizable pots, presumably filled with food, in the trunk, effectively camouflaging the hidden prisoners.
Once the prisoners were securely stowed away, Aziz’s role became pivotal. He was to drive the minibus towards the prison gate, trusting that the guards’ routine familiarity with his duties would allow for an unimpeded exit. The escape plan required meticulous timing: after passing the gate, Aziz was to travel 250 meters to reach the main road. Typically, this route involved a left turn heading towards the jailhouse. However, in a critical deviation from the plan, Aziz made a right turn instead, steering the minibus away from the prison and into an unforeseen direction. This unexpected maneuver marked a decisive moment in their escape, veering off the original escape route and altering their fate. They were sold, but the exact sale price remained a mystery.
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