Hananeh Zakeri Khahan was a first-grade student at primary school.
Omid Zakeri Khahan, Hananeh’s father and, speaks of this heavy grief:
“Hananeh was my third daughter and studied in the first grade of primary school. She was a very kind girl. She always wanted me to be beside her. Once, when she had gone to Qeshm Island with her mother, she kept missing me and telling her mother, ‘I wish Daddy were here. It would be so much fun.’
At the beginning of first grade, she did not have much interest in studying and was more interested in space movies. But because she wanted to become an astronaut, little by little she turned toward studying. Hananeh was interested in memorizing the Quran and had memorized a few short surahs.
She always said, ‘I want to become famous; I want to trend on social media; I mean, I want to become global so everyone will know I am a useful person.’ Who knew that my daughter’s innocence would become global in this way?
Hananeh was a very spirited, gentle, and intelligent girl. Before this incident, one of the psychologists of the Hormozgan province had come to our home and told me, ‘Dear Omid, if you discover your daughter’s talent, I am sure she will at least become a great scientist, because she is very intelligent and understands things beyond her age.’
I remember once we bought her a notebook. She liked that notebook very much. She always wanted to fill out its pages as much as possible with colored pencils and drawings. She loved this so much that whenever I opened her notebook, it was full of colorful and happy designs. Sometimes she would even draw pictures for me and give them to me as gifts. This interest in drawing and creativity showed her artistic and talented spirit.
The last time I saw Hananeh was the night before her martyrdom. She was sleeping quietly and silently, like an angel. In the morning, when she went to school, I did not know it would be our last meeting.
When I heard about her martyrdom at school, the world went black for me. It was very hard to believe. I cannot describe what I felt: the longing to see her again, the longing to hold her in my arms, the longing to hear the sound of her laughter.
It took a long time for me to find her body. At 7 p.m., my daughter’s body was found, after I found her mother. When I held Hananeh, she had become very light, as if she had melted. I recognized her among all that destruction and chaos by the same long clothes her mother had dressed her in. The only things that remain are the sweet memories and the endless longing that will stay forever in my heart and in the hearts of her two sisters and brother.
I saw Hananeh’s body intact. I swear to God, it was as if she was asleep; she had suffered no injury. Only because of the pressure of the blast waves, her dress had come off her body. My wife always had the habit of dressing my daughter in firm underclothes, saying, ‘May her clothes never tear and may no stranger see her.’
I recognized my daughter by the same socks and long underclothes. The night before, she had slept peacefully in my arms. Now, too, she was sleeping the same way.