I was killed on October 16, 1401. I was twenty-five years old, born on July 10, 1376, I was the son of Ayoub and Sahibeh, and I was a resident of the village of "Niyeher" Sanandaj. I studied at the university for two semesters, but when my father passed away three years ago, I became the breadwinner, I had to work and pay for my 6 siblings and my mother. My job was steel fence master and I had special skills in this work. I was my mother's delight and loved by people because I was known for my good manners, sobriety and courage.
One week before I was killed, I got engaged after six years of love and I had many dreams to marry and live with my love.
When the nationwide protests started after the killing of Mahsa Amini, they were very widespread in Sanandaj, like the rest of my compatriots, I could not remain indifferent. He wanted me to stay at home, I said: "Mother, it is the duty of all of us to go until we accept this cruelty.
On that day, the repressive forces were shooting people with war bullets, we were in the Trainchian neighborhood on Vakil street, Sanandaj, when suddenly I was shot from behind with a Colt gun and the bullet hit my heart, I fell to the ground, they killed me. To be taken to Tawheed Hospital, but I died on the way....
On the death certificate, the medical examiner declared the cause of my death to be hit by hard or sharp objects.
Before the funeral, the police chief asked my mother to bury me in the government martyrs' plot and give her the rights of the martyr foundation, but she never accepted this request. The mercenaries took my body from the morgue with them, and finally, with the help of my family, my body was buried at three o'clock in the morning on the 17th of Mehr, in the presence of my mother and sister, in Behesht Mohammadi and surrounded by security forces....
On 23 Mehr, my compatriots came to my grave and honored my memory.
After my death, my family was summoned on Sunday, December 6, to file a complaint with the Fourth Investigation Branch of the Sanandaj General and Revolutionary Prosecutor's Office, but my mother rejected the Sanandaj Revolutionary Court's request to file a complaint and announced that the Zahhak government is the murderer of my son.
My sister came to my grave at the beginning of her life together and told me:
My promise, my brother, today, next to your grave, I started the first minutes of my life together with a sad heart for your absence, but with a steel will to plead for you. May there be a day for freedom next to your grave to sing the victory song
let's go".
This was my last Instagram story that I wrote and I left and died on the way to freedom:
This will be the best Saturday ever
We protest, we strike,
In their own words
Someone wants to get in our way
We get involved
Be wounded, be a martyr
We will turn the city streets into their hell
I will continue until the complete freedom of my people, my family and my city
And in the last message I said to one of my friends: "Let us be martyrs in the way of freedom, but not in captivity
Indeed, today is my birthday, if I were alive, I would have burned the candle of my 26th birthday, remember me, the morning of victory is near..