The book, launched in London on October 21, was written inside prison “on scraps of newspaper and tissue paper and whatever else she could find,” according to Payam Akhavan, the international human rights lawyer who hosted the event.
The fragments were later smuggled out of Iran and assembled by Azita Mottahedeh, a scholar, and writer Bahiyyih Nakhjavani., the book’s translators
Sabet trained as a teacher and was a member of the “Yaran,” or “Friends” of Iran, a group tasked, with the government's knowledge, with caring for the Baha’i community’s basic needs.
More than 200 Baha’is were executed after the 1979 Islamic Revolution, and the community continues to face widespread discrimination and persecution.
After Sabet’s arrest in 2008, the other six members of the Yaran were also detained. All seven were jailed for a decade on charges including conspiring against national security. Their former lawyer, Nobel Peace Prize laureate Shirin Ebadi, has said no evidence was presented to substantiate the charges.
Released in 2017, Sabet was arrested again in 2022 and sentenced to another decade in prison alongside fellow former Yaran member Fariba Kamalabadi. She is currently on medical furlough but could be recalled to prison at any time.
The book offers an unflinching account of prison conditions. In solitary confinement, the stench is so “noxious” that Sabet tries to breathe through a slit in her door. Other prisoners’ faeces lie in piles in her cell, and cockroaches crawl across the floor.
Remembering hours of blindfolded questioning early in her detention, Sabet writes that “the hair rose on the back of my neck” each time her interrogator drew close.
But alongside the degradation and violence, the memoir describes Sabet’s efforts to preserve compassion for those around her, including fellow prisoners and even her jailers.
At the London launch, two former cellmates and another former prisoner spoke about Sabet’s influence on their lives.
Roxana Saberi, a journalist imprisoned in Evin in 2009, recalled being “dumbfounded” when Sabet and Kamalabadi told her they were “trying to turn their experiences [in prison] into an opportunity.”
As Sabet showed “kindness and compassion to everyone, from her fellow cellmates to her captors,” Saberi came to believe that such an approach could help lay the foundations for “democracy, freedom and understanding” in Iran.
One episode in the memoir captures that compassion. When an “emaciated” crack addict, with “a head like a prop for an anatomy class … eyes set back in deep rings of darkness,” reaches toward Sabet from a lower bunk, she climbs down to hold the woman’s hand.
Although Sabet has only just secured a bed in an overcrowded ward, she also holds the woman’s wounded, “festering” feet, describing how her heart breaks and fills with love.
Sabet does not conceal her own suffering. After a brutal interrogation in which she endures insults and blows from six “sweating, stinking” men, she recalls how “desperate” she had been for “fresh air.”
Iqan Shahidi, an Iranian Baha’i imprisoned between 2012 and 2017, described Sabet as “like a light in the darkness for me.”
Now an academic in the United Kingdom, Shahidi said he had studied at the informal Baha’i university where Sabet taught before her imprisonment.
The institution illustrated how Baha’is responded to persecution, he said. Rather than resorting to political confrontation or violence, “instead they built something,” providing education to young Baha’is barred from public universities.
“Mahvash kept everybody so hopeful through very simple things in life,” said Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe, the Iranian-British former prisoner who spent six years in detention.
Every year in prison, Zaghari-Ratcliffe recalled, Sabet invited the entire ward to a Nowruz feast. Tables were pushed together, and Sabet supervised the careful slicing of potatoes for traditional Persian dishes.
She continued paying for the annual celebration even after her release, sending money to jailed activist and future Nobel Peace Prize laureate Narges Mohammadi.
For Zaghari-Ratcliffe, the gatherings represented something larger than a shared meal.
Iran’s political prisoners, drawn from different ethnic and religious communities and political backgrounds, were forced to live together for years despite their differences.
Sabet, she said, would “make sure that we [were] all part of the same community.”
“We are against this oppression that has put us in this place … regardless of our differences, we are all one.”
That commitment extended even to prison staff.
Sabet recounts returning to a jail where she had previously been held and receiving a warm welcome from guards. One officer, who tells her that “all my life I have been a good Muslim,” confesses that he has come to hate religion and works for the government only to support his family.
Sabet tries to reassure him, expressing her belief that Iran has a better future and that its people will one day rebuild the country together.
The officer says he wishes he could believe her.
“So allow yourself to,” Sabet replies, “instead of wasting energy on your doubts!”
In the book’s final pages, Sabet recalls an unexpected encounter in prison with Jamaloddin Khanjani, the eldest member of the Yaran.
“The sheer wonder of what had happened felt like a recompense for all the beatings, a reward after all that solitude; it was like breathing fresh air in the suffocating corridors of Evin.”