Sepideh Qolian: “Jin, Jiyan, Azadi is a blueprint for survival in a land where death has become law”

Sepideh Qolian, a political prisoner held in Tehran’s Evin Prison, has penned a powerful letter condemning the upholding of the death sentence against Pakshan Azizi, a Kurdish woman. In her letter, she writes:

“They fear the voices of these women because they know that a voice rising from a century of oppression echoes in the streets. They know that ‘Jin, Jiyan, Azadi’ is not just a slogan; it is a chain that binds hands to hands and voices to voices.”

The full text of her letter, as obtained by Hengaw, is as follows:

“Jin, Jiyan, Azadi (Woman, Life, Freedom)” is not merely a slogan—it is an open wound, a scar etched into this land that, despite its pain, continuously gives birth to life. These three words originated in Kurdistan and have resonated across the streets, tongues, and hearts of people—not just as words but as a pulse. This slogan represents a roadmap for survival in a land where death has been institutionalized.

The agents of death seek to tighten the noose around these words—not only to silence two women but to sever the roots of freedom itself. Today, Varisheh Moradi and Pakshan Azizi, two Kurdish women, stand as symbols of resistance. Their names rest on our lips, yet the shadow of execution looms over us all.

The architects and enforcers of death wage war against light and life. They aim to bend the mountains and stop rivers from flowing. Yet, they forget that the roots of the oak tree remain alive beneath the soil, drawing strength from the blood-soaked earth of this land. They fear the voices of these women because they know that a voice rising from a century of oppression reverberates in the streets. They know that “Jin, Jiyan, Azadi” is not just a slogan but a chain that links hands and unites voices.

The death-makers attempt to hide their grotesque faces behind manufactured masks. They spread fear and impose silence to break this chain of voices. But we know that distancing ourselves from the state’s narrative is insufficient. Our voices must transform into a roar, making it clear that we reject death in all its forms.

Varisheh and Pakshan must survive. They are the lifeblood of this chain, connecting the mountains of Kurdistan to the plains of Balochistan, the streets of Azerbaijan to the villages of Khuzestan, binding hands and voices across the land.

Sepideh Qolian
January 11, 2025
Evin Prison