Fatma Hassona dreamed of traveling the worldbut he only did it in the film that tells the story of the last year of his life, Put Your Soul on Your Hand and Walk of Sepideh Farsi, than the Milanese festival Filmmaker (November 15-23) presents to pay homage to the 24 years old photojournalist from Gaza killed by an Israeli airstrike on 16 April.
Almost no one would know his story, would have seen his shots, or listened to his poems, if it weren’t for the Iranian director who, since April 2024, has recorded hours of video calls with her. «Fatma became my eyes in Gaza, where she resisted by documenting the war on a daily basis, and I was her connection with the rest of the world» says the author who, on November 22nd, will also present her work at the Florence Film and Women Festival.
Born in Tehran 60 years ago, Sepideh Farsi has lived in Paris since the age of 19 and fled by the theocratic regime which, at just 16 years old, had sent her to prison for having helped a dissident. She reflected herself in the Gazawa reporter because she also started by taking photographs. Fatma was killed the day after the invitation to present Put Your Soul on Your Hand and Walk at the Cannes Film Festival and Sepideh tells it with the same kindness and sweetness that we see in the protagonist of the film. Her smile and colorful hijabs contrast with the rubble she displays around her.
The poster of “Put Your Soul on Your Hand and Walk” by Sepideh Farsi on the photojournalist Fatma Hassona.
“Put your soul on your hand and walk” was what he said, to give himself courage and wander the streets, trying to capture scenes of humanity in the destruction: «I have very little hope of living the life I would like. I try to document everything to be part of this story and, one day, tell it to my children” he said.
His death must have been a great pain for her. Are you in contact with surviving family members?
It was the mother who called me to tell me what had happened. Fatma and her father had been in a coma, like her, but they never came out of it. Their building was then totally destroyed: initially they only targeted the second floor, that of Fatma’s family, whose uncles and cousins lived above (an investigative study by Forensic Architecture, a group from Goldsmiths University of London, demonstrated that the journalist’s house was targeted, ed.). I knew them all, our lives were intertwined for a year. His loss was a profound pain, combined with that of the tragedy in Gaza.
What do you think of the peace agreement?
I would like to believe it and, sometimes, I think back to the conversation about hope that Fatma and I had in a video call. You believe it and, at the same time, you don’t believe it. I’m very realistic: part of me hopes and the other thinks that peace won’t work for many reasons. The population is not involved, Israel is not respecting the conditions, as had already happened at the beginning of the year. I also fear that Israel will attack my country again like last June: a new war front distracts public opinion. This is what all regimes do, including Iran, when they are in difficulty.
Fatma recounted even the most atrocious experiences with a smile: the 13 family members killed by the bombs, the kilos lost due to lack of food, the joy of finding a packet of chips after months, the dream of a piece of chicken or chocolate. And listening to her, how did you manage your emotions?
There were various shades of smile and there was, always, the joy of being together. It was so visible in her, contagious. Mine was also a nervous reaction, a way to control the sense of guilt and helplessness at seeing her and not being able to do anything despite knowing she was in danger. The last time we spoke she was depressed, but I couldn’t help but smile and listen to her. If I think that she really wanted to study and become an artist! The only consolation for me is knowing that her photographs are in exhibitions (until December 13th at the Cinema Galeries in Brussels, ed.) or that the Las Palmas University of Gran Canaria, in Spain, wants to give her an honorary degree.
He said: “If the war in Palestine ended, it would end everywhere.” What did he mean?
Perhaps the Palestinian struggle is at the crossroads of many battles: against capitalism, militarization, neocolonialism. It represents all this and young people have understood it.
She has a daughter of the same age.
Yes, she is six months older than Fatma and she is an activist. Many young people, like her, are disillusioned, but at the same time they are finding new forms of resistance, even in democratic countries threatened by strong powers and sovereignist governments.
She said she immediately saw herself in Fatma’s reflection. What are the common points?
Many, starting with the passion for images as documents. At 16 I was attacked in a demonstration, my camera was broken but I managed to escape. A few months later I was arrested and held in prison for almost a year, I also lost the right to study, then by mistake they gave me a passport and I managed to escape to Paris. I already wanted to become a director, but it took me many years to do it. I studied mathematics at university and taught for a living.
And she too, like Hassona, knows the Morse alphabet. How did he learn it?
Yes, another point in common with Fatma. A prison companion taught me this, it was a way to communicate with the inmates in the next cell and it was useful to me when I ended up in solitary confinement. Many years have passed, but that experience is so strong that the memory is very vivid. I lost several friends in Iran, including the girl I had hidden in my apartment, who like me was arrested but also killed. I have never been able to return to Iran, luckily my mother comes to visit me in France. Today, even in Europe, I find myself fighting for freedom against an extreme right that threatens to take it away from us.
After the blitzkrieg of Israel and the US against Iran last June, what is happening in your country?
The attack did not help the fight for freedom, on the contrary. The crackdown against dissidents is increasingly tighter, executions have increased and women are not spared (according to Amnesty International, there will already be a thousand in 2025, the highest number in the last 15 years, ed ). The regime incarcerates whoever it wants as Mossad spies because it can find no other holds. Despite this, civil society is very active and more and more women in Iran, especially in the big cities, refuse to wear the hijab. Now there are other emergencies but soon we will talk about it again.