Name: Narges*
Age: 31
City: Tehran
“I consider myself lucky, I guess. Considering what everyone is dealing with, my problems are quite good. I’m 32, and I’m a pharmacist at a major pharmacy in Tehran. Medicine isn’t a luxury, and people will always pay for it, so I can’t say that career-wise, the sanctions have really hurt me. But personally, I’ve been really affected by the government’s handling of its foreign policy, and its affect on us domestically.
“First, I see how hard it is for us to get medicine. It’s a myth that the medicine itself is under sanction, it’s a matter of the freeze on Iran’s banks. For international companies to do business with Iran is incredibly difficult, so just financing the various medications can be incredibly difficult. We deal with shortages, or a complete lack of supply, with a variety of medications. As a pharmacist, there are few things more painful and emotionally debilitating than telling someone we don’t have medicine for him or his loved one.
“What my Fiancé is dealing with, however, may be one of the worst things I’ve ever had to deal with. Hasan*, is 35, and has a PhD in Immunology, but hasn’t worked a day in his field of expertise. We’ve been engaged for 2 years now, an outrageous amount of time, especially because I come from a religious home. He cannot afford to move out of his parent’s home, let alone to pay for a wedding or support a family. I’m 32, unmarried, and have no children—if the economy was different, I would have been a mother and a wife by now. Hassan works part-time as a librarian’s assistant, and part-time as an editor for a publisher—and he is still waiting for a job in medicine or research to open.
“My parents didn’t want me to marry Hasan from the beginning because he is secular, but I insisted. But two unmarried years later, the pressure is back—they want me to leave him, and marry a suitor of their choice who can support me. I refuse, but our life isn’t moving forward together even though we are both saving up. Even finding ways to be physical is a challenge— after this long, we’re still reduced to being intimate in the car, or at a friend’s apartment, in fear of being caught.
“The one thing worse than poverty as a result of sanctions, the fear of losing the love of your life, because of an non-existent economy. Its time for the government to stop making us chose between bad options, and for them to start making the big concessions, like ending the nuclear program, so we can come back to life, because this pain is just as deadly as not having important medicine.”
*Narges's father is well known in governmental circles. To protect her identity, and that of Hasan's, their names have been changed.
© WeAreTheMartyrs 2013
Age: 31
City: Tehran
“I consider myself lucky, I guess. Considering what everyone is dealing with, my problems are quite good. I’m 32, and I’m a pharmacist at a major pharmacy in Tehran. Medicine isn’t a luxury, and people will always pay for it, so I can’t say that career-wise, the sanctions have really hurt me. But personally, I’ve been really affected by the government’s handling of its foreign policy, and its affect on us domestically.
“First, I see how hard it is for us to get medicine. It’s a myth that the medicine itself is under sanction, it’s a matter of the freeze on Iran’s banks. For international companies to do business with Iran is incredibly difficult, so just financing the various medications can be incredibly difficult. We deal with shortages, or a complete lack of supply, with a variety of medications. As a pharmacist, there are few things more painful and emotionally debilitating than telling someone we don’t have medicine for him or his loved one.
“What my Fiancé is dealing with, however, may be one of the worst things I’ve ever had to deal with. Hasan*, is 35, and has a PhD in Immunology, but hasn’t worked a day in his field of expertise. We’ve been engaged for 2 years now, an outrageous amount of time, especially because I come from a religious home. He cannot afford to move out of his parent’s home, let alone to pay for a wedding or support a family. I’m 32, unmarried, and have no children—if the economy was different, I would have been a mother and a wife by now. Hassan works part-time as a librarian’s assistant, and part-time as an editor for a publisher—and he is still waiting for a job in medicine or research to open.
“My parents didn’t want me to marry Hasan from the beginning because he is secular, but I insisted. But two unmarried years later, the pressure is back—they want me to leave him, and marry a suitor of their choice who can support me. I refuse, but our life isn’t moving forward together even though we are both saving up. Even finding ways to be physical is a challenge— after this long, we’re still reduced to being intimate in the car, or at a friend’s apartment, in fear of being caught.
“The one thing worse than poverty as a result of sanctions, the fear of losing the love of your life, because of an non-existent economy. Its time for the government to stop making us chose between bad options, and for them to start making the big concessions, like ending the nuclear program, so we can come back to life, because this pain is just as deadly as not having important medicine.”
*Narges's father is well known in governmental circles. To protect her identity, and that of Hasan's, their names have been changed.
© WeAreTheMartyrs 2013