From Under the Staircase: A Martyr's Journey by Farsheed Ferdowsi 

We were to be taken to the main building for interrogation. It didn’t take long before I realized that we would not be afforded any dignity or civility whatsoever. First, they blindfolded us. Then they asked us to form a train by placing our right hand on the shoulder of the one in front of us. Then, one of the guards took out a piece of cloth or a handkerchief and asked the one at the head of the train to hold onto one end of it. Then the guard took the other end and started guiding us through the open garden toward the main building. The reason for using the handkerchief was that he did not want to touch a Baha’i, since in his view we were najis or untouchable. As we marched in the bitter cold, the lead guard would intentionally walk us over potholes or uneven terrain causing us to fall down; or he would make us run into trees or shrubbery. The sound of a hapless comrade who would fall or run into a tree would be drowned by the sinister laughter of the guards. They found humor in our misery. But this march proved to be the proverbial walk in the park compared to what we experienced next.

The interrogation room was on the second floor of the administrative building. As we climbed the metal stairs, blindfolded, I received a constant blow of kicks, punches, and slaps across my face. Soon I realized that the guards had formed a gauntlet on the stairway and were beating us as we climbed the steps. This was our welcome.

At top of the stairway was a large open space. I couldn’t see, but it felt as if we were in a spacious open-air veranda. The guards guided us to wooden benches and pushed us onto them. It was very cold. It had snowed and I could feel the powder as I walked over it. None of us had proper clothing to protect us against the wind chill. I was shivering. After a few minutes, Haji Toloui arrived. As soon as he saw us, he started cursing using the vilest language. Then he shouted at his minions, “Why have you placed benches for these Baha’i dogs? Remove them!”

The guards promptly removed our chairs, forcing us to sit cross-legged on the snow-covered floor. It didn’t take long before my legs felt numb. As we waited for the unknown, whoever passed by us would curse and kick us at random.

An hour elapsed. They removed our blindfolds and gave each one of us a form to fill out. It contained basic information such as name, date and place of birth, address, phone number, and of course, religion. At this time, Haji Toloui showed up and said, “To these Baha’i dogs, appearances are very important.” So he started wiping his shoes on our clothes. He made sure all of us had mud all over us. Then he went inside, came out with a pair of scissors, and announced, “I’m going to give them samurai haircuts.” With that, he started to cut our hair in ridiculous uneven ways. For example, he would cut one side of someone’s hair and leave the other side alone. With someone else, he would cut a runway across the head from front to back or side to side. Anyway, this was all part of his plan to intimidate us and inflict emotional and psychological pain. Since my hair was already short, he spared me this humiliation.

Around noon, after several beatings and other indignities, they brought us lunch. It consisted of a tray of rice and two roast chickens. We were permitted to remove our blindfolds so that we could eat. Dr. Mohandesi, one of the Assembly members said, “We cannot eat without utensils. Please give us spoons.” One of the guards went inside and returned with a handful of used and unwashed spoons and threw them on the ground in front of us. Naturally, we didn’t use them. Our hands were cleaner than their spoons.

Before we touched the food, Haji Toloui showed up and inquired, “What are the prisoners having for lunch?”

“Rice and chicken,” one of the guards replied.

“They don’t deserve chicken!” he shouted.

Then he proceeded to removed our chickens and gave them to the other prisoners, leaving us with a tray of plain rice and no utensils. We took a few mouthfuls of rice and didn’t complain. At this time, for a brief moment, we saw the Baha’i women and managed to inform them of our strategy regarding interrogations. After this so-called lunch, we were blindfolded again. One of the guards said, “Baha’is, raise your hands.” We did, and once again, they started beating us mercilessly. In the mid-afternoon, they returned us to our cell in the same manner that we had been brought to the main building that morning. Again, we had to pass the gauntlet as we walked down the stairs. With beaten and bruised bodies, resting on the cold hard concrete was indescribably difficult to endure. We sat in a circle in that small cell and said a round of prayers, beseeching God to give us the strength to endure and persevere. An hour later, they took us out, one by one, and shaved our heads.