PAYAM YOUNESIPOUR

IranWire

Mohammad-Mehdi Mardani, known to his friends as “Mahan,” was 23 years old when he was killed by live ammunition fired by the Islamic Republic. Born in 2002, he was studying for a Master’s degree in Industrial Management at Shahroud University of Technology and played as the goalkeeper for the university’s futsal team, where he had won several local and provincial championships.

An eyewitness recounted the details of Mahan’s death to IranWire: “Mahan and his family were originally from Kermanshah but lived in Shahr-e Qods, Robat Karim (a working-class satellite city southwest of Tehran). On the night of January 9, he joined the nationwide protests near his home. Around 10:00 PM, neighbors saw a boy who had been shot, dragging himself through the alley while bleeding. When they rushed to help, they realized it was Mahan.”

According to an informed source, Mahan was targeted by two war-grade bullets: “He dragged himself to his front door and knelt there. Neighbors alerted his family. They rushed him to the hospital, but he died from excessive blood loss before arriving. Doctors said one of the bullets had severed his femoral artery, and there was nothing they could do.”

The family was told that his body had been sent to Kahrizak. They arrived there at 8:00 AM the next day to identify him. According to a source who spoke to IranWire, the family searched through rows of bodies for nine hours before finally finding him at 5:00 PM.

When Mahan’s body reached the cemetery in Shahr-e Qods, officials stated that because he was killed by live ammunition during a protest, they needed a “written order” from the Governor’s Office to bury him. Upon going there, the family was presented with two choices. The source says: “They said either deposit 800 million tomans ($11k–$15k USD) into the Governor’s account, or sign a paper and do a TV interview claiming your son was a Basiji (government militia) killed by ‘terrorists.’ His family refused.”

The state uses these high fees or forced “Basiji” narratives to blunt the political impact of a death. If a family agrees to the interview, it is used to claim that “foreign terrorists” are killing the regime’s supporters. If they pay the money, the financial burden can devastate the family, often preventing them from holding large memorial services.

Officials reportedly insulted the family and threw them out but eventually backed down when faced with a large wave of other grieving families. “They told them they couldn’t use the city’s main cemetery. They pointed to a graveyard in the middle of the desert and said no ceremony could be held, with no more than 20 people allowed to attend.”

On the day of the burial, the family learned exactly how Mahan died. “A girl came, wailing and crying. She said, ‘If I am alive, it is because of your son. When the agents started firing into the crowd, Mahan ran and threw himself on top of me so I wouldn’t get hit.’”

The source told IranWire: “Mahan helped everyone. He was a bodybuilding coach and worked hard to save money for healthy food and supplements. His dream was to buy a laptop; he left this world with that wish unfulfilled.”

In the “Bio” section of his Telegram and Instagram pages, Mahan had written: “If even one of us remains, it is that person’s duty to remain the narrator.”

Mahan Mardani’s story captures the tragedy of the “working-class student” - a high achiever, an athlete, and a protector. His death at the hands of snipers, followed by the state’s attempt to “buy” his identity or extort his family, reflects the wider reality in Iran: a generation of young people willing to risk their lives for one another, and a state using every bureaucratic and violent tool at its disposal to erase their legacy.