I'm withdrawing my book from Unbound!

Friday, 20 April 2018

Dear supporter of, 'One Woman's Struggle In Iran; A Prison Memoir', I'm sorry but I haven’t been able to reach my fundraising target, so I’m afraid I shall have to withdraw my book from Unbound. The money you so kindly subscribed will be returned to your Unbound account and you can request a refund. Look out for an email from Unbound about this. 

However, my novel, 'The Secret Letters From X to…

Turning a blind eye: Why the international community must no longer ignore torture in Iran

Monday, 11 December 2017

Words with JAM: by Catriona Troth

Friday, 17 November 2017

Many prisoners in one cell

One Woman's Struggle in Iran - a memoir from Nasrin Parvaz

by Catriona Troth


Many Prisoners in One Room by Nasrin Parvaz

In 1979, Nasrin Parvaz returned from England, where she had been studying, and became a member of a socialist party in Iran fighting for a non-Islamic state in which women had the same rights as men. Three years later, at the age of 23, she was betrayed by a…

Night, poems by Nasrin Parvaz

Tuesday, 31 October 2017



Time froze

at the call of the first name.

The names always began

being called at noon

when the air was dank

with hundreds of women


breathing each other’s breath

longing for the darkness

for no one was ever called

for execution at night.




Million Moving Pieces


Whenever I board a train

I remember Yavar

he worked in a factory in Arak…

Homelessness, poems by Nasrin Parvaz

Thursday, 28 September 2017


Twilight, walking down Camden high street

past the bright open shops

and the full up pubs

I see him through a forest of legs

sitting by a lamp post

his hands on his young ears

in the midst of the high noise.

His back hunched

his legs drawn up

making space for the passers-by.

Men and women are all around him

talking and laughing

as if he is not there.



My Red Father, poems by Nasrin Parvaz

Wednesday, 23 August 2017

You and me

My hands tied, I had been hanging

from the ceiling for Eternity

my dangling feet just above the floor

night finally came and the guards left.

Bloodied and bruised, but not tied up

you crawled towards me

and lay down, beneath me

taking the weight of my body on yours

my feet rested on you all that long night.

Where are you now?

Are you alive somewhere?



Writing is my means to fight back

Wednesday, 19 July 2017

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"Writing is my means to fight back": an interview with Nasrin Parvaz

July 19, 2017

Nasrin Parvaz is a writer, artist and activist from Iran. Since fleeing to the UK in 1993, she has published or translated fiction, non-fiction and poetry in Farsi, English and Italian, as well as being a longstanding member of Freedom From Torture’s Write to Life group. The first publication in English of…

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