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A visitor in Berlin looks at an art piece called 'Prostitutes' by Iranian artist Khosrow Hassan Zadeh
A visitor in Berlin looks at an art piece called ‘Prostitutes’ by Iranian artist Khosrow Hassan Zadeh . Photograph: Franka Bruns/AP
A visitor in Berlin looks at an art piece called ‘Prostitutes’ by Iranian artist Khosrow Hassan Zadeh . Photograph: Franka Bruns/AP

Experts say generation gap leading cause of runaways, prostitution in Iran

This article is more than 9 years old

Many turn to prostitution as a means to financial independence and liberation from strict societal norms. Most girls active in the Tehran sex trade are high-school age

Stifled by her family life and troubled by her lack of personal finances, 22-year-old Mona began selling her body in Tehran two years ago. After a particularly bad spat with her mother, she left home and sought refuge at a friend’s beauty salon, where she became acquainted with a pleasant-faced woman who appeared to sympathize with Mona’s personal problems. The woman, whom Mona identifies as 45-year-old Zari, eventually invited Mona to her home and suggested to the 20-year-old that she start having sex for money. There would be no pressure, Zari insisted. She would simply bring Mona along to meet a client and only continue the encounter if she wanted.

Mona’s first client was a young man named Hamid. They went on a date for two hours, and then to Hamid’s house. She received 50,000 toman (about $17) for an hour. These days, Mona has a variety of clients, from 16-year-old boys to 50-year-old married men. Zari refers them all to her, and receives a third of every payment.

“At first it was really frightening, but now the only thing I’m afraid of is sexually transmitted diseases,” Mona says. “I often tire of having to do unconventional things I hate, but I have to do what the paying customer wants.”

Despite its social stigma, prostitution is a burgeoning problem in major Iranian cities, where a public reluctance to recognize and discuss the issue means that the trade operates in deep illegality. The lack of regulation raises sex workers’ risk of exposure to violence, human trafficking and sexually transmitted diseases. Public health and non-governmental organizations run a handful of rehabilitative programs for prostitutes, but a majority of sex work transpires under the radar of authorities.

“There are no statistics on their dangerous behaviors,” says Farid Masoudi, director of the social illnesses unit of Iran’s national health organization. “There’s no way of knowing what is happening among these women, and the university students who might otherwise be doing beneficial research in this area are barred from doing so.”

Still, the presence of young street women - and the men who seek out their services in parks, squares and other public places - is difficult to ignore. Despite a dearth of comprehensive data on prostitution, research by health institutions, universities, and the prison system indicates that most girls active in the Tehran sex trade are high school-age.

Leila, 19, is HIV positive and started sleeping with men for money when she was 17. She often meets her clients on Facebook, and says she is popular among married men who make “unconventional demands.” Despite her health condition, she often has unprotected sex, earning 50-100 thousand toman ($17-33) per customer. She says she has been pregnant once, and got an illegal abortion two months into the pregnancy with the help of her friends.

“After my first boyfriend left me, I was lonely. I suffered so much that I was looking for relief from wherever I could get it, and before I knew it I was having sex for money,” she says. “As unenjoyable as it is, I cannot leave this work now. I’m used to it.”

The average age range of sex workers in Iran has fallen to 12-18, down from 20-30 just one decade before, according to a 2011 report by the Iranian sociological association. More recent studies from Shahid Beheshti University confirm this pattern: Over a period of seven years, the average age fell to below 20, says staff researcher Majid Abhari. According to his estimates, some 300-600 thousand female prostitutes work in major urban centers like Tehran and Mashhad.

Researchers in Iran often attribute this troubling trend to various social ailments: a higher divorce rate, increased male desire for “variety,” fewer opportunities for marriage, drug addiction, and unemployment. Local sociologists and public health experts typically approach youth prostitution as a pathology, a result of corruption by western culture. But the personal motivations of the young Iranian girls who become prostitutes point to a more complex sociocultural dynamic.

“The key factor explaining the increase in prostitution over the past decade is the generation gap, especially in traditional families,” says Hassan Hosseini, a Tehran-based expert on social issues. “These differences result in a great deal of stress, compounded by the unchecked influence of satellite dishes and the Internet. As the gulf between traditional society and the modern world widens, we can only expect to see an increase in the rate of prostitution.”

The beauty salon where 20-year-old Mona found sanctuary after running away from home and the Facebook page where Leila finds her clients are what gender studies scholar Sholeh Shahrokhi calls mahfels, or safe havens. In her 2008 paper on young runaways in Tehran, Shahrokhi describes mahfels as places “where runaways selectively hooked up with each other and the larger youth population” without worrying about persecution. While Shahrokhi’s research distinguishes female runaways and self-employed prostitutes from girls who are part of organized sex rings, the concept of the mahfel is applicable to both groups: It is where young women fleeing domestic abuse, poverty and societal rejection seek solace.

Like Mona, many of Shahrokhi’s subjects turn to prostitution as a means to financial independence and liberation from strict social norms. One young runaway is disowned by her father after he learns she has lost her virginity; another flees a poverty-stricken household where she is physically abused by her five brothers. In all cases, the mahfel is both a safe haven and an entry point into a hidden, shadowy side of youth culture. Prostitution networks play an indelible part.

Running such rings is much more profitable than selling yourself on the street, says Sheyda, 20, who began having sex for money at age 16. After separating from her first husband and struggling to cope with the financial and emotional fallout, Sheyda “tumbled into” sex work. She worked for low rates at first, she says, but eventually acquired “a bit of a reputation” and was able to organize a group. Now, Sheyda says she has ten people working for her.

“My number circulates around town and people call me when they need my services. I introduce clients to girls and I’ll even service a client myself now and again if I happen to like him and the price is right,” she says. Her rates are noticeably higher than those of Mona and Leila: “Three-hundred thousand tomans ($100) for an hour and between 700-800,000 tomans ($233-266) for a whole night,” she says.

Sheyda recently completed a prison term. In Iran, those caught having sex for money are punished under clause 637 and 638 of the penal code. Under these Sharia-based laws, individuals who engage in sexual relations outside of marriage receive up to 99 lashes and a ten-day to two-month prison sentence. Still, Masoudi estimates some 8,000 sex rings exist in Tehran alone.

“By now I’m used to going to prison and getting whipped,” says Sheyda. She has been incarcerated on three different occasions and received 60 to 70 lashes each time. “I’ve learned to deal with it. In any case, the money is good. Even if I have to go to prison ten more times, I won’t quit this work.”

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