On Saturday, September 7, 2024, Sara Deldar, one of the detainees from the nationwide protests of 2022, succumbed to an infection stemming from pellets embedded in her head and body while being treated at a hospital in Rasht.
During the 2022 uprising, Sara Deldar was shot by the Revolutionary Guards and security forces while she was aiding the wounded. She was subsequently imprisoned at Lakan Prison in Rasht, in August 2023, where she endured torture.
According to reports circulating on social media, she suffered greatly during her incarceration, but prison staff consistently refused to provide her with proper medical care. On one occasion, when she was gravely ill and begged for medicine, pounding on her cell door, a prison guard coldly dismissed her pleas, saying, “Stop pretending,” and refused to take her to the medical ward.
In January 2024, after enduring months of suffering, Sara Deldar was conditionally released for medical treatment. However, nine months after her release, she died from complications caused by the untreated infection. For the last six months of her life, Sara had been in a vegetative state. She was only 28 years old.
As the anniversary of the 2022 uprising approaches, regime intelligence officers pressured Sara’s family to keep her death quiet. As a result, her funeral was held with only a small number of family members in attendance.
Reflections from a Broken Body, but an Unbroken Spirit
Sara Deldar had previously written on her page:
“The day I was taken straight from court to Lakan Prison in Rasht, a year ago, I didn’t feel anything—no pain, no fear. I didn’t even think, ‘I wish I hadn’t done it,’ because I hadn’t done anything wrong. All I did was save the wounded, perform surgeries, and stay true to my conscience. I wrote nothing but the truth.
Days passed in prison, and when my sentence came, I had two charges—one year, three months, and ten days, plus another six months or so. Then, I was conditionally released. No matter how much I try to explain what I went through every second of those days—whether it was the lack of proper hygiene, the constant fights, the freezing cold, or the suffocating heat—it wouldn’t be enough. You start dreaming of just seeing the sky and the moon again. But all of that, and a hundred times more, still wouldn’t be too much to give for my homeland.
When I got out, I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want anyone to greet me with flowers because freedom meant nothing to me anymore.
The days went by, but my mind was still stuck in prison, thinking about the girls I helped, the ones who quit drugs. I kept worrying—what if they get into another fight, what if it snows and they freeze? Even when they cooked the foods, I used to crave for me, I couldn’t eat.
Eventually, I realized I couldn’t go on like that, so I picked myself up, went back to work, and threw myself into it, working from morning till night, just so I could go home, collapse, and not think about anything. I made everyone at work laugh and gave them energy, but then, little by little, I got sick.
I went to the doctor and got tests done, but every day I got worse. I figured it was because I had liver problems.
I caught these infections and spent a week in the hospital, but I wasn’t the same person anymore. I became so weak—severe anemia, my spleen enlarged, my kidneys and ovaries too. Then I realized a lot of the girls who had come out of prison also developed underlying health problems.
But despite all this pain—the infections, the pellets in my body and head—every moment I can still see the streets full of gunfire and blood, marching through my mind like a parade. And the only thing that gives me any relief is clenching my fists until my nails dig into my skin.
Still, with all my heart, I’m proud of every brave woman of my country, and my soul remains with my sisters behind bars, with whom I lived and shared every bit of their suffering.”
