‘I have discovered you can leave Evin prison but Evin prison does not quite leave you,” says Anoosheh Ashoori, the 68-year-old Iranian-British dual national released in March along with his better-known counterpart, Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe.
A gentle, open, yet determined man, he insists he has not grown angry about his five years in an Iranian jail on ludicrous charges of spying for Israel. “I can reason with myself that anger does not solve my problems. Instead … I must look to the future. Something good has to come out of this ordeal or otherwise I will be the loser and they will have beaten me.”
But Ashoori has discovered the elation of freedom, returning to his wife, Sherry, their two grownup children and a mountain of yapping dogs at his home in south London.
Finding a line between shedding, honouring and being overwhelmed by the horror of the Evin experience has been hard. Ashoori admits to debilitating panic or anxiety attacks, as flashbacks involuntarily overwhelm him. “If I have a shower for instance I might suddenly find myself back in the shower cabins in Evin prison. I have to control myself and not get carried away with it.”
The panic attacks picked up after his focus on running the London marathon came to an end. He stumbled into taking part in the race: while in jail he became gripped by running, telling his fellow inmates he would run the marathon for them when released. “On paper I was not due to be released until I was 74,” he says. “And then I was given an extra three years for spreading false propaganda – smuggling out messages from jail. I told them I will do it even if I am 80.”
This aspiration was mentioned in a Guardian piece published on his release, and the marathon organisers contacted him to waive the entry rules for him. Before he knew it, Amnesty International had found him a pro bono personal trainer and his son Aryan started accompanying him on runs around local parks. “On the day, I was wearing an Evin prison uniform and carrying a ‘women, life, freedom’ poster,” Ashoori recalls. “People were shouting my name and, ‘You are a hero, run,’ and I had this promise in my head to my friends in Evin prison. It was so exciting.” He completed the marathon in five and half hours and raised £20,000 for Amnesty International and £6,000 for Hostage International.
Ashoori has other projects to complete, including a mini marathon. He would like to write a book, and has plans to put on an exhibition about Evin, a place described as “the valley of hell”. He would like to replicate the room where prisoners were interrogated. A video of prisoners beating beaten inside the jail is also planned. If it sounds grim, it is because Evin is grim, and Ashoori feels people should not avert their eyes.
Not every day is good, he says. His family is more united than ever, and he came to realise how much his children put their lives on hold to free him. But the panic attacks pursued him on a long-planned holiday. He suffers fatigue and listlessness, and it is impossible not to think about Iran with the protests sweeping the country, and the fire in Evin prison itself, in October. “I felt it myself with my flesh and soul, so I know what those being interrogated are suffering. I know the invisible shrapnel that hits family members, too. Their wives, their daughters, their sons go through hell. They try to break up families. I reached a low point when I told Sherry to forget about me and start a new life. She told me never to say that ever again. And I have not.”
