It was a crisp morning in February 2025 that I first heard the news; Lindsay and Craig Foreman, a British couple, were arrested in early days of January 2025 while crossing the borders of Iran as part of an around-the-world adventure from Australia. They were charged with espionage and transferred to Kerman prison in South East part of Iran.

Kerman prison was where I was transferred only a day after my arrest in April 2016 and spent the early months of my incarceration there. That was by far the most harrowing part of my time in prison; I was kept in solitary confinement for over two months without knowing anyone or having any clue what was going on behind the walls of the cell.

Instinctively, my brain started rewinding to almost nine years prior to that moment in time, imagining Lindsay locked up in the dark high-ceiling cold marbled-floor of that cell within Kerman prison. It was traumatic and upsetting. I had to remind myself that I was not there anymore.

How is Lindsay going to talk to other women? I thought to myself, having trusted and risked on the kindness and generosity of the Iranians, as she mentioned in one of her last Instagram posts while attempting to cross the border to Iran and prior to their arrest. I could feel her frustration and fright, being kept in the dark and unaware of what was going to happen next.

It was likely that the reality was something different and that it was my trauma coming back to haunt me by shaping the way I knew it. There were some common elements between us, my abduction and their arrest, that made it impossible for me to think any other way. Chances were, Lindsay and Craig were kept together, in a different prison or safe house than the one I was. But that did not diminish their agony and frustration the way I experienced it.

I spent the next couple of days thinking about them, unable to get myself out of it. Nightmares were back and the desperation was wild as if, yet again, it was myself thrown back into prison. There were moments of calm that I was capable of convincing myself what happened to me might not, or would not, happen to them and that they would be freed sometime soon. But the fear of the worst was much stronger than my imagination.

Every UK citizen has the rights to freedom and the government has the obligation of protecting its citizens beyond borders. When someone is taken hostage, the feeling of abandonment and betrayal is a real thing, experienced by both hostages and their families. The government stereotypically restricts communication with families in order to constrain the public pressure through holding onto the information. This, leads to the isolation and frustration experienced by families. It also generates distrust and cynicism amongst them and makes them lose their faith not just in their own government but also in the broader institutions and international cooperation.

It is a common feeling for those who have someone taken hostage, to panic; being far away and not knowing who exactly to go to as the first stop adds to that torment and anxiety. However, the governments use that feeling of fear against families in order to silence them. They continue to suppress families from speaking out and encourage them to limit communications both with each other and with the media as a way to stay in charge. This not only leads to the isolation of families, making them feel left on their own, it also causes powerlessness. In the absence of support by the governments and being pressured to keep quiet, families might feel sacrificing their only way of advocating for their loved ones.

There have been no improvements in the UK Government’s approach to deal with hostage taking. The new government promised to set up a hostage envoy which has not been delivered yet. We, as a hostage family, have expressed concerns to Ministers that their current proposals don’t work; they are simply just a placebo.

Both hostages and their families need to feel being looked after by the government. Families often criticise the governments for lack of transparency, being too slow and prioritising geopolitical and foreign policy interest over the safety and welfare of its citizens. They want agency, solidarity and the ability to push for action in the absence of clear communication and diplomatic solution by the governments. Here, interacting with those previously in similar circumstances reinforces their sense of hope and fuels their energy to fight.

Being born and raised in Iran, I was exposed to all sorts of political games and narratives, yet I felt alienated throughout my imprisonment. It is unimaginable how it would feel for Lindsay and Craig not knowing much about the politics, culture or language of the country they are being kept in prison.

During the 12-day war between Iran and Israel, Lindsay and Craig went missing. Both sides were reluctant to take responsibility. They refused to confirm their whereabouts or the condition they were being kept under. It was only days after the war ended that the couple managed to make a brief call to their families informing them of their safety. It is hard to imagine how they had felt within this period that their loved ones went incommunicado, especially as the Evin prison was under attack by the Israeli forces. According to their families, subsequently Craig was transferred to Evin prison with Lindsay remaining in Qarchak prison; the female prison near the capital described as a serious violator of international prison standards.

The update about Lindsay and Craig’s condition is on drip. It has been known that the couple appeared in court in Tehran during the last week of September and are now awaiting the outcome of their hearing which could take days or weeks.

Nobody should ever be imprisoned for a crime they never committed. Being held hostage by a state or actor is a grave injustice. when institutions fail to protect our rights, it becomes our own duty to stand together and protect our own rights until justice is restored. We, as members of the hostage community, have all lived through wrongful imprisonment. The question is, how can we turn that painful yet powerful experience into something that allows others not to fall into the same traps or make the same mistakes that we did when we were in their shoes.

By: Nazanin Zaghari Ratcliffe – Former Iranian British Hostage in Iran (Apr. 2016 – Mar. 2022)