Arman Haji Yousefi
Truth cannot be buried in Row 17.
He turned the pages of law books, searching for a path toward justice, unaware that his own name would become the bloodiest case of injustice in his city.
Arman Haji-Yousefi; a 20-year-old young man who, during the evening protests of January 9, became eternal while his back was to the bullets and his face was toward freedom.
Three bullets to stop a heart that beat for Iran… and a body that, after three days, returned to his family’s embrace with a torn-open chest.
They were afraid of his voice, even of his lifeless body; so cowardly did they bury him in the dim light of 6 a.m., in Section 1 of Arak Cemetery. But truth cannot be buried in Row 17.
Arman is no longer just a student. He is the very meaning of justice, now flowing through the veins of this soil.
May his memory live forever, and may his path be followed by many.
Arman Haji-Yousefi; a 20-year-old young man who, during the evening protests of January 9, became eternal while his back was to the bullets and his face was toward freedom.
Three bullets to stop a heart that beat for Iran… and a body that, after three days, returned to his family’s embrace with a torn-open chest.
They were afraid of his voice, even of his lifeless body; so cowardly did they bury him in the dim light of 6 a.m., in Section 1 of Arak Cemetery. But truth cannot be buried in Row 17.
Arman is no longer just a student. He is the very meaning of justice, now flowing through the veins of this soil.
May his memory live forever, and may his path be followed by many.
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