Our Dawning Day Draws Its First Breath

This work reconnected me to my Persian roots. Photographing my family, mainly my Grandfather and his rose garden in Northern Ireland, planted as a love letter to my Grandmother. Honouring their story of Baháʼí Faith, devotion and migration from Iran.

Nasrullah, my grandfather, is the fifth generation of a family that has practised the Baháʼí Faith, now living in Northern Ireland. Some years ago, he planted a rose garden in memory of my grandfather Ruhieh. The garden embodies the core beliefs of the Baháʼí Faith, which is to show love and kindness from your heart to everyone. This project represents the compassionate nature of my grandfather and the beliefs that he has passed down to his family. It also reflects a connection with my Persian roots and a reconnection to family, spaces and beliefs that were prominent in my childhood and contributed to my sense of self. 

My grandparent's story is one I keep close to my heart. Nasrullah was born in the village of Qazvin in Iran in 1932. As a child he loved gardens, his uncle had a rose garden. They would pick them annually, piles of roses filling the rooms. The rose water and perfumes they made were sent to Hefir, the Holy Land, each year. At the age of 11, he moved to Tehran where he worked in a carpentry shop. In 1952 Nasrullah and Ruhieh married. She was 17 years old when they left Iran to live in Dubai together, staying with Baháʼís and eventually opening a carpentry shop. They were given a patch of land by the Sheikh Sgar, a space to cultivate and make their own. They had picnics there with other bahais and their friends. Nasrullah and Ruhieh left Dubai with their children in the early 80s. They were unable to renew their passports, and returning to Iran was unsafe for Baháʼís. They moved to England, and then Northern Ireland where my grandfather continues to reside. 

I still have a pile of letters my grandfather wrote to us as children, explaining his experiences growing up in Iran and the lessons he learned. It strikes me the bravery both he and my grandmother had leaving Iran and their families at such young ages. And the unwavering kindness and joy they have always shown despite any persecution or hardships they have faced due to their beliefs. There is a lovely consistency of gardens throughout their lives, cultivating and nurturing them throughout their travels. The final garden created acts as a love letter to Ruhieh, expressing the love, devotion and care he has shown throughout his life. 

For this work, I travelled back and forth to Northern Ireland. Visiting in the summer to see the garden in full bloom sparked the urge to return and photograph my grandfather and wider family. The process of photographing Nasrullah was important to me. His first language is not English, his hearing is bad, and I don't speak Farsi, so we largely communicated through the unspoken connection that my waist-level viewfinder gave us. The name of the project “Our Dawning Day Draws Its First Breath” comes from a poem by Tahirih, a women’s rights activist and early believer of the Baháʼís Faith. She was distantly related to my grandfather by marriage and someone I found inspirational throughout my research.