BANEH, Iran - Amir Rahmani’s life was forever changed the night he was injured on kolbar routes, losing his ability to work, spending all of his savings to treat his wounds, and above all, losing the woman he loved.
The mountains of western Iran’s Kurdish city of Baneh slowly shadow the town of Bawyan, the smell of daffodils and cloves fill the air, as a depressed Rahmani slowly limps his way back home.
Born to a poor family of five, Rahmani could not continue his education past high school due to his family’s economic circumstances. He became a kolbar at the age of 18, hoping to save up enough money to get married.
He was only 20 years old, working the kolbar routes of Baneh’s Sayranban border on July 22, 2020, when he and eight other kolbars were ambushed by Iranian border guards.
“We would always take routes that did not have any border guards on them. But that night, we suddenly saw two guards. We tried to run back, but we were shot at, and I was injured alongside two others. I was shot twice in my leg and once in my back,” Rahmani told Rudaw English.
Kolbars are porters who transport untaxed goods across the Kurdistan Region-Iran border and sometimes the Iran-Turkey border. They are constantly targeted by Iranian border guards and are sometimes also victims of natural disasters. Many are pushed into the profession by poverty and a lack of alternative employment, particularly in Iran's disenfranchised Kurdish provinces.
Rahmani was taken to a hospital in Tabriz where he stayed for 15 days, and underwent four surgeries on his right leg and one on his back. He says the surgeries cost a total of 250 million tomans (over $7,800), leading him his to spend his entire life savings on the treatments.
“The doctors ask for an extra 40 million tomans (approximately $1,250) for more surgeries, and I cannot afford that,” he added.
The only source of joy that Rahmani clinged to at that time of despair was his fiancée, a family relative to whom he got engaged four months before he was wounded. Yet, his injuries and incapability to work any longer would soon lead to a heartbreaking conclusion to that chapter of his life as well.
“I received the most heart-wrenching news. My fiancée separated from me, under pressure from her family and due to the fact that I cannot work any jobs and provide for myself and my spouse,” said Rahmani, “ I was depressed for a couple of months, but there was nothing I could do. That was my fate, and I had to adapt to it.”
The separation from his fiancée inflicted more pain on Rahmani than any of the injuries he had suffered. He now spends his entire day alone in a room, contemplating how his life could have panned out so differently if he had not been injured on that one fateful night.
