Here's an excerpt of the last article written by Mohammad Ghouchani on "Etemad Melli and" before being arrested Saturday morning in Tehran. In Iran, a journalist, that is to defend freedom of expression, it can cost you everything.
The entire article can be read on the website of the Italian Cultural Centre in Switzerland
(...)
be journalists these days has become difficult. To some, this job is a point of arrival and other tool, an intermediate stop for some and for others the last house. But with these cages, these complaints, these starvation wages, now, you can still remain journalists? We
third generation Iranian, we are more aware of death, we are the most maligned. We are witnessing people who can not predict the next minute of their lives. On our future government nor reason nor feeling nor compassion. No one knows the future, but anyone can predict or plan for the near future. Everyone, except us. Every day we go to the office do not know if there will be a tomorrow. And if tomorrow was Wednesday? Every Wednesday is meeting the press at the ministry. And if tomorrow was a Monday or a Tuesday, a Thursday or Saturday or a Wednesday one of those Sundays when the courts ordered the closure of our newspaper? Thank God Friday is a holiday!
We decorate our sheets of bright colors for the holidays but then wear the dark suit for the newspapers forced to close its doors. Do not look at our laughs, our hearts are grieving. You know maybe a trade in which the smallest of errors all employees to be hanged? Or that because of one employee all be fired? O where for a charge of 10 years before, and after 10 years in prison, you are condemned to another 10 years for the same offense? Become a journalist for our generation was easy, but it's really hard to remain such. For us it is an unattainable desire to grow old doing this job. May we grow old. Maybe we could die in our preparation.
third generation Iranian, we are more aware of death, we are the most maligned. We are witnessing people who can not predict the next minute of their lives. On our future government nor reason nor feeling nor compassion. No one knows the future, but anyone can predict or plan for the near future. Everyone, except us. Every day we go to the office do not know if there will be a tomorrow. And if tomorrow was Wednesday? Every Wednesday is meeting the press at the ministry. And if tomorrow was a Monday or a Tuesday, a Thursday or Saturday or a Wednesday one of those Sundays when the courts ordered the closure of our newspaper? Thank God Friday is a holiday!
We decorate our sheets of bright colors for the holidays but then wear the dark suit for the newspapers forced to close its doors. Do not look at our laughs, our hearts are grieving. You know maybe a trade in which the smallest of errors all employees to be hanged? Or that because of one employee all be fired? O where for a charge of 10 years before, and after 10 years in prison, you are condemned to another 10 years for the same offense? Become a journalist for our generation was easy, but it's really hard to remain such. For us it is an unattainable desire to grow old doing this job. May we grow old. Maybe we could die in our preparation.
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