Arvin Salemizad: Shot on January 8, Died After 16 Days in a Coma

Arvin was full of life - free, healthy, and joyful. Like many teenagers in southern Iran, he felt most at home with a ball at his feet, drawn to the football ground. He loved to dance too, moving his shoulders and chest with the easy, instinctive rhythm of the South.

IranWire has learned that 16-year-old Arvin Salemizad was among those shot during the January 8 protests in Bushehr. He was wounded by direct fire on Ashouri Street by Islamic Republic forces.

Informed sources told IranWire that the shots were fired from inside a Basij base operating within the “Quran” Mosque, which is linked to Jafar Pourkabgani, Bushehr’s representative in Parliament.

In modern Iran, many mosques serve a dual purpose. While they are places of worship, they also house the local headquarters of the Basij, the regime’s paramilitary volunteer militia. During protests, these mosques often become launch points for security forces, and snipers are frequently stationed on their minarets or rooftops to overlook the streets.

A source close to Arvin’s family said: “More than 18 pellets hit his head. He was taken to Khalij-e Fars (Persian Gulf) Hospital in Bushehr and remained in a coma until January 23. Unfortunately, the injuries were so severe that he lost his life.”

On the same day he was shot, Arvin’s family tried to spread the word. As he was being moved to the ICU, a relative turned on a camera and said, “Look what the mercenaries have done to us.” This was met with a violent response from the hospital’s Harasat (security unit), which tried to stop the recording.

Arvin’s family also faced pressure to pay money to receive his body. “They held the body from January 23 to 26 and wouldn’t release it. Eventually, they got him back without paying, but only on the condition of a silent burial.”

Despite the heavy security, the burial was heart-wrenching. Someone shouted, “A round of applause in honor of the eternal name, Arvin Salemizad!” The standing crowd began to clap and perform the koll, the high-pitched ululation of joy and honor.

In traditional Iranian mourning, grief is expressed through tears. But for young “martyrs” of the protest movement, many families choose a different response. They replace mourning with moments of celebration - clapping, ululation - to say that their loved ones did not die in vain, but for freedom. It is a deeply human act of resistance against a regime that wants families to grieve quietly and disappear.

Arvin was buried on the morning of Monday, January 26, at Tangak Cemetery, surrounded by a heavy police presence and attended only by his immediate family. A source told IranWire: “Arvin lived in the Tangak-2 neighborhood. This area used to be a village on the road to the nuclear power plant but has expanded recently. His family owned a sandwich shop, and Arvin used to help them run it.”

Bushehr is best known internationally for its nuclear power plant, but neighborhoods like Tangak are working-class and ordinary. That a teenager who helped his family run a small sandwich shop was killed shows just how ordinary the victims of the 2026 uprising were.

Arvin’s aunt shared videos of their happy times and her deep grief, writing: “Remember you told me when you turned 30, you’d have a wedding in Iran that would ‘lock it down’ (be legendary)? My dear, you turned 16, and you’re gone. We never saw you as a groom. We are burning, Arvin.”

The night after the burial, people dressed in black gathered outside Arvin’s home, filling the street with the sound of the senj and damam.

In southern Iran - Bushehr, Abadan, and Ahvaz - the damam, a traditional drum, and the senj, or cymbals, are woven into everyday life. Once used to welcome ships or warn the town when a boat was lost at sea, their sound carries the meaning of a zenhar - a warning, a call to action.

By playing the damam for Arvin, people reached for an ancient seafaring ritual, as if speaking to the “Sea of Myth” itself - asking it to return their children. It was a shared cry of grief and helplessness, and a warning to the rest of the city that the danger had already arrived at their doorsteps.