I have seen five hitmen in court, men hired by the government of my own country, Iran, to kill me. So every time I walk alone in the street, I look over my shoulder. I imagine someone coming from behind and shooting me, in the head, in the heart. That image plays in my mind again and again. Yesterday, I was parking my bicycle when a woman behind me suddenly pulled out her phone, pointed it directly at me, and took a picture. In Persian, she said, let me take a photo of you … I don’t know why, but I smiled at her. Inside, though, my first thought was: She’s going to shoot me in the head. I hate that this is where my mind goes. I hate living with this feeling. And then I think about the protesters and women inside Iran and Afghanistan who live with this terror every single day, where simply daring to say NO can mean prison, torture, or death.

This is me when I was a little girl… and when I broke free… In Iran I was told if I don’t wear hijab, I get kicked out from school, I get jailed, lashes, beaten up, and kicked out from my country. In the West I’m told, sharing my story will cause Islamophobia. I’m a woman from Middle East and I am scared of Islamic ideology. Let us talk.

In 21st-century, the government of my country, Iran hanged this 24-Year-old woman who defended herself from sexual assault The regime executed Marziyeh Neyri yesterday, a young woman who was forced into marriage at age 17 and hanged for fighting back against her attacker. Marziyeh was 18 years old when her husband's associate attempted to sexually assault her in her own home, in front of her husband. She grabbed a kitchen knife to defend herself. Her husband died in the struggle. She told the court she had been repeatedly assaulted by her husband's associates before that day. Iran's courts didn't care. The regime rejected her self-defense claim. Her attacker, who survived, took the stand and called her a murderer. The court believed him over her. She was sentenced to death. No clemency. No mercy. The sentence was carried out at Chubindar Prison in Qazvin. Marziyeh Neyri never had a chance. Forced into marriage as a child under Iran's Islamic laws, she spent the few years of her adult life in a courtroom, fighting for her life after defending it. She lost. This is the Sharia Laws in Islamic Republic of Iran where a woman can be hanged for surviving. 💔

After years of being banned from entering a stadium in my own country, for no crime other than being a woman, this is how I walked in. This was the World Cup FIFA 2026 between England and Panama but for me, it was beyond that. You have to be a woman from Iran or Afghanistan to truly understand this emotion. For whom this simple act, walking into a stadium, moving with joy, showing my hair, sitting next to men, was not just forbidden. I was beaten for it. Imprisoned for it. Humiliated for it. Exiled for it. And even in exile, I became a target for multiple assassination plots. And now people lecture me: "Don't politicize football." I have a question: which part of my body hasn't already been politicized by the Islamic Republic? My hair? My voice? My seat in a stadium? They turned our entire existence into a political battlefield. Every inch of a woman was a crime scene under their law. And now I'm supposed to just sit back, eat a hot dog, and enjoy the game? I did enjoy the game. England won. But walking through those gates, that was the real victory.

Side by side through Central Park; One carries people. The other carries a cause. Heading to CNN talking about MOU.

This woman received 74 lashes simply for singing in Iran Yes, this is the 21st century. In Iran, women can be punished simply for singing. And if you attend their performance, or even take a photo or video, you can be punished too. Her name is Parastoo Ahmadi.

do you know her?

I met my murderer's family crying in the courtroom and this is what I did… What would you do if you meet the fiancé or the mother of a hitman who was paid $100,000 to murder you? The Iranian regime hired 6 hitmen to kill me in New York. I have faced four of them who received their present sentence in US federal court and I’m going to face the fifth one in August.

"This bitch is hard to catch." That is what Carlisle Rivera texted back to Farhad Shakeri, his Islamic Revolutionary Guards of Iran handler who had sent him to New York with one instruction: as soon as she gets out of the house, kill her. The response came back: "This bitch is hard to catch." And yes. I am hard to catch. I am hard to kill. Not because I am brave. Not because I am special. Because I live in America. Because the FBI arrested the hitman. Because prosecutors investigated. Because judges listened. Because the rule of law stood between me and the men sent to murder me. But my fellow Iranians… oh. On Thursday I sat in a federal courtroom in New York and heard my name next to the word "murder" more than twenty times. I stopped counting. It was too painful. The defense lawyer said his client, Jonathan Loadholt, had never even heard of me. He just needed the money. There were text messages in evidence, the hitman complaining about his $10,000 advance like a contractor frustrated about a late paycheck. That was what my life was worth. This was not the first time I faced my would-be assassins. It was the fourth. Rafat Amirov and Mahdi Omarov, two Russian mobsters who planned to kill me in front of my house in Brooklyn, are now serving 25-year sentences in a New York prison. Another Roshan monster, Khalid Mehdiyev was arrested outside my Brooklyn home with a loaded AK-47 and now waiting for this sentencing day. Niloufar Bahadorifar an Iranian-American woman who helped the IRGC finance a plot to kidnap me, smuggle me to Venezuela, and hang me in Iran is in prison in America. And now, Jonathan Loadholt, a convicted murderer, and Carlisle Rivera, a professional criminal, who staked out my home in Brooklyn, followed me to Fairfield University in Connecticut, bought a gun, used fake license plates. For months, they followed my path to end my life. Farhad Shakeri, the IRGC operative who orchestrated all of it, is still free, still in Iran. Sometimes people look at these stories and say they sound like a Hollywood movie. Kidnapping plots. Assassins. Burning down a house. Smuggling a journalist across continents. But this is not a movie. This is the daily reality of freedom fighters confronting authoritarian regimes. In public, I try to be strong. I say: "I have no fear. Come and kill me. You cannot kill the idea of freedom." But the truth is that after leaving federal court, I cried. I cried because I am tired. I cried because every time they fail, they send someone else. I cried because I know that while I am protected by justice, so many brave people in Iran are facing the same killers completely alone. Justice saved my life. The absence of justice is killing my people. In Iran, innocent women, innocent children, innocent teenagers, innocent men are executed every single day, simply for demanding freedom. It is not easy to carry the survivor's guilt I carry every single day. I ask myself: how can we protect unarmed people in Iran who are killed simply for demanding a normal life? I wish my voice was truly more powerful than their weapons so I could protect my people. 💔

My illiterate mother has been my role model. She never went to school, but somehow understood courage better than most world leaders. She faced danger, humiliation, fear, and still taught me how to stay strong and never bow to tyranny. I haven’t seen my mother in more than a decade. Not because I committed a crime. Because I spoke. That’s what dictatorships do: Irani regime punishes activists for having voices and mothers for raising daughters who use them. I’m banned from returning to Iran. She’s banned from visiting me. So on Mother’s Day, while politicians post inspirational quotes about “family values,” remember there are mothers in Iran being used as hostages by a government terrified of outspoken women, and their own mothers whose children were killed simply for his speaking up. Happy Mother’s Day 🌻💔❤️

Interviewing about AI with a background that has nothing to do with AI.

Today is Europe Day, the day Europe promised it would never forget peace, human dignity, and freedom. Years before Zan, Zendegi, Azadi, when my sharp criticism of European appeasement of the Islamic Republic made the front page of major Dutch newspapers, I was told: "You're being too loud. Too undiplomatic." So how did their diplomacy work out? Iranian women were massacred. Men were hanged for protesting. Europe signed deals. Appeasement is not a policy, it is complicity. On Europe Day, the question isn't whether Europe values freedom. It's whether Europe values it enough to pay a price for it. History already has its answer. Do you?⁩⁩⁩

My Village in Brooklyn When I left Iran, New York terrified me. I am a villager. My parents are farmers, their hands built our life from soil, vegetables, sunflowers, basil, tomatoes, cucumbers. That garden was how they brought bread to the table. My mother's hands smelled of basil and tomato vine. My father's back was curved like a question mark from years of bending toward the soil. When I arrived in New York, the city did not welcome me. A village woman among towers. I did not know how to be small in a large place. So I built my village in Brooklyn. I planted a cherry blossom and named it after my mother. A peach tree for my father. A wide bloomed tree for my brother Ali. And sunflowers my entire nation, my whole lost, beloved country, standing tall, facing the light as if they had not been told it was impossible. That garden became a kind of miracle. Neighbors stopped. They smiled. They took photos, spoke to one another softly. In this vast city of strangers, the garden made us a village again. Then one summer afternoon, I noticed a man standing behind my sunflowers. He seemed to be talking. I leaned closer: “What?" He looked up. Eyes cold. He had a headset. He wasn't speaking to me at all. He was speaking to the men who had sent him. I learned this later, in a federal courtroom, where Khalid Mehdiyev, a member of a Russian-linked organized crime group said plainly, that he had not come in my front door for the flowers. He had come to close my eyes permanently, on behalf of the government that had already closed so much else. They took my country first. Then my mother's visits, my father's voice on the telephone, my brother's face across a table. Then the garden that I created in exile. Then the cherry blossom, the peach tree, the white blooms, the sunflowers standing in their row, still facing the light, not knowing I was gone. I grieve Brooklyn every summer. I grieve Iran every day. These are not small griefs. They are the size of nations. But I am my mother's daughter. I know what it means to bend toward the soil and believe in what has not yet risen. But I will find another garden. I will plant my mother again. I will plant my nation again. This is how I survive. 💔✌️🌻

This is what happened to a nurse who tried to help the wounded protesters in Iran…

Wow, I get on Nostr, and suddenly there’s so much love, and a little bit of Bitcoin. But you know what ? I’m not used to so much love, 🥰 I am used to the greatest hits on other social media platform: ‘Oh, she’s CIA, no, MI6, no wait, Mossad!’ as if I’m some global triple-agent. But hey, at least now I can add ‘Bitcoiner’ to the list. For a second, when I saw ‘40,000,’ I thought I got a lot of them! Turns out, it was some satoshi. But here’s the irony: since I launched my campaign against compulsory veiling , the Iranian regime has long accused me of sending Bitcoin to Iranian women to remove their hijab, because I campaign against compulsory veiling. Women send me videos of their bravery, and the regime tries to downplay it all. I had no idea what Bitcoin was back then, but from their accusation, I learned! And now, I think maybe it’s not a bad thing after all. Thanks for all your love and support. I really needed that.💃🏻❤️🌻

Hello Nostr, I am new in this world, My name is Masih Alinejad, from Iran and I just met this man, my brother in hair, . We can both launch a Hair Revolution. I asked him about his job. He said Freedom stuff without knowing who I am. Here we are. I am a Freedom Fighter, but beyond that I am a troublemaker for the oppressors. I am a survivor of three assassination plots. A bad ass woman from Iran... 💃🏻🌻💃🏻

The Iranian regime wants to kill Narges Mohammadi because they are afraid of the voice of opposition from inside the country. She is a a Nobel Peace Prize winner, a symbol of courage and peace. But the regime targeting her is the very opposite: one of the greatest enemies of peace. For years, from inside Evin Prison, she has exposed the regime’s abuse of women and political prisoners. They could not silence her words, so now they are trying to break her body. What we are witnessing is is a deliberate strategy. Denying her urgent medical care is a slow execution designed to eliminate one of the powerful voices of resistance inside Iran. If anything happens to Narges, the responsibility lies directly with the Islamic Republic. The world knows her name. The world knows what is happening. Now the world must act. Transfer her to independent doctors immediately. Release her unconditionally. Because when you stay silent, you stand with the jailer, not the prisoner.

All these three Iranians have been hanged today. This is a campaign of terror and the world is watching like it’s just another Netflix series, waiting to see how many episodes it takes before anyone actually does something. The Islamic Republic has executed three more men, Ebrahim Dolatabadi, Mehdi Rasouli, and Mohammadreza Miri. After gunning down tens of thousands of protesters in the streets, the regime is now systematically executing those it once detained.

Another life taken. Another young man hanged by Iran’s regime. Another family destroyed. Mehrab Abdollahzadeh, 27, arrested during the Woman, Life, Freedom uprising, was tortured for over 40 days and forced into a false confession. He told the court he was innocent. He asked for evidence to be reviewed. They ignored him. How many more lives until the world takes a stand? #Iran #DigitalBlackOutIran‌