Monday marked a year since Nazanin was taken. Nazanin has been told by her fellow prisoners that after the first year you begin to forget your life from before, your life becomes the life inside. It becomes easier once you accept it. The hard part is the transition - accepting that contact slipping away, when again she is not allowed to call me, when I have never been allowed to call her. Neither of us are ready to accept it just yet. So this anniversary I wanted it to be a reminder that there is a life waiting for her, with Gabriella and me back in London. We are waiting for her, family, friends and neighbours. With lots of things to do thanks to your ideas. That is why on Sunday we marked one year by decorating our One Day Tree in our local park, why we planted some flowers for Sizdeh Badar (Iranian Nature Day) with the Friends of Fortune Green. Nazanin’s father has never spoken publicly. For her anniversary, he asked me to read some words from him to those who came: “Every member of Nazanin’s family in Iran wanted Nazanin to be with them for Nowruz. We wanted Gisou to be with her parents for the new year. Unfortunately Nazanin is far from her family, but she is in their hearts.” “We hope that the government is listening to our silent voice and can do something for our family.” “We thank all the people outside Iran who have cared for Nazanin this past year, and who have sent cards and letters. We thank all the families inside Iran who support us in this situation – those who also experience it themselves, Nazanin’s friends, and the families who have kept contact through these hard times.” “This year for Nowruz everyone in the family wishes for Nazanin’s freedom. We look forward to the one day when Nazanin and Gisou are able to come out and leave Iran together. We will celebrate Nazanin’s release together for that short time before they travel.” We hung this one day hope alongside many ideas on our tree. We have received some really beautiful ones already. Thank you to all those who have sent ideas, and those who continue to send. Please, we are still collecting - until Easter, when we will put them in a book for Nazanin and her fellow prisoners, outside inspiration to keep the spark within. That spark is still there. On Sunday our most important readings were those dreams sent by Nazanin and her fellow prisoners - ideas of what they would do with their first day of freedom. Imagining it helping bring that day a little closer to the cell. I share their voices with you below – with their stillness and depth, and courage in sharing despite the risks. Thank you for giving them a listening ear. Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe: “My fondest dream has always been to arrive at our home, you ask me if I want to have a cup of tea, then make me one. I just sit back and watch you two play. This is the image I had most when in solitary confinement.” “How I wish I could watch you both dance in the middle of our sitting room to the Michael Jackson music – like when Gabriella was only tiny.” “I would wish for us to take the bus C11 and go to the heath, and feed the ducks first, and walk up to Parliament Hill where we can see the whole town ahead of us. Freely.” “I would like us to take a trip to our local bookshop once every month and buy one book each.” “I want to stay up all night and watch you two sleep.” “I would like us to stroll up the High Road and have pistachio ice cream.” “I would wish for us to take a trip to the Lake District with your family, where your Dad was born.” “I would like to put a huge paper on the wall in our sitting room and draw a world in which there are no prisons, walls or fences. And let Gabriella do the colouring.” “I would like us to buy lots of toys and pay a visit to the children’s hospital in London, visiting the children who spend time away from their parents. Gabriella now knows how it feels to be away from her mum and dad.” “I want you to read and act the book “I love you to the moon and back” to Gabriella and me.” “I want us to organise children’s storytelling sessions with stories from Iran in our home to Gabriella and her friends.” “I would like the three of us to go to a pottery cafe and paint something each. Gabriella loves colouring as I found out in one of her visits in prison where she coloured boiled eggs for Nowruz.” “I would like us to plan for a trip to South East Asia, what we thought of doing back in 2012 in Myanmar, when we saw that young family travelling around. I would like us to take Gabriella to Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia.” “I would like us to plant one tree to mark my freedom.” “I would love to marry you again. The best thing that could ever happen to me.” Narges Mohammadi: “The biggest pain for a mother is to be away from her children. It’s nearly 2 years now that I haven’t seen my 10 year old twins. They left Iran to Paris after I was arrested, to live with their father. And if I was free at this moment, I wouldn’t waste a minute to see them.” Fariba Kamalabadi: “On the rare occasions I left prison to attend a court case, or on my way to the hospital, in the car and led away with handcuffs, I looked at the people on the streets, and found myself a stranger, like someone who was looking up to the moon, from the earth, from somewhere unreachable. I always imagined myself walking home from prison on my feet, the day I’m released, so that I could find myself within them, as part of the other people, as opposed to a stranger from a different planet.” “I always wished to spend my whole first night next to my family members and watch them sleep, to make up for the time passed away so quickly when they came for a visit while I was in prison.” Mahvash Shahriari: “I think of my children, my husband and my family. I think of my fellow prisoners, of prisoners of conscience. I’ll float in my dreams. We’ll hold each others’ hands, with all the people around the world, like a rainbow of red, black, yellow and white colours, and sing a song of peace, and love is the only witness of our friendship.” Elham Farahani: “I would love to sleep one whole night next to my mother, and to feel her cuddle. I would love to take my grandchildren on a picnic. I would like us all to go on a beach holiday and enjoy the sun and sand. I would like to get together with all my family and sleep in one big place next to each other, just like when the kids were small. And I would love to have a proper chat with my son-in-law. He’s great in that.” Naseem Bagheri: “I wish all the people around the world could live peacefully and I think educating the children is the best way to bring peace and unity to the world. My wish would be to teach and train the children and youth, particularly those living in villages and poor areas.” “I think prejudice is one of the obstacles against peace and unity. I wish with all my heart that I could train my children without prejudice, and try to help them love all the people, regardless of their religion or nationality or race or ethnicity or gender.” “I wish I could spend a couple of hours of my first day with my family and friends in a pretty forest near Tehran.” “I want to go to an orphanage and spend some hours with the children, so that we could paint and play together.” Azita Rafizadeh: “My biggest wish is to be out of prison when Peyman, my husband, is also out of prison. And I would like us to take our son, Bashir, on a trip in our own car. And to sing loud together.”