Goli Kouhkan walked out of Gorgan central prison after seven years on death row. At 25, she has a second chance — one that came down to a payment of roughly £70,000, raised by people who heard her story and decided her life was worth saving.
Kouhkan was 18 when she was arrested for her role in the death of her husband, Alireza Abil, in May 2018. She had been forced into marriage with her cousin at 12, became pregnant at 13, and endured years of physical and emotional abuse. On the day Abil died, Kouhkan found him beating their 5-year-old son. She called for help. A fight broke out. Her husband was killed.
Under Iranian law, the qisas system allows a victim's family to execute the convicted person — or accept blood money as compensation and grant a pardon. Kouhkan's in-laws initially demanded 10 billion tomans (about £80,000). Through donations and awareness campaigns, that figure was reduced to 8 billion tomans, which they eventually accepted.
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Start Your News DetoxThe Mechanics of a Second Chance
What saved Kouhkan wasn't legal reform. It was a combination of international attention, grassroots fundraising, and the willingness of her in-laws to accept financial compensation instead of her death. Mehdi Ghatei, founder of Qasim Child Foundation, was direct about why visibility mattered: "When people start raising awareness [of cases such as Kouhkan's] there is sometimes huge pressure from international bodies, which increases the chances of halting executions."
But this outcome also exposes the limits of individual mercy. Mai Sato, UN special rapporteur on human rights in Iran, acknowledged the relief: "It's great that Kouhkan won't be executed — one life has been saved." Yet she added the harder truth: "But it doesn't really solve the issue of the qisas law, which is in violation of many international standards."
The numbers behind that statement are stark. Between 2010 and 2024, at least 241 women were executed in Iran. Of those, 114 were sentenced under qisas for homicide. Many, like Kouhkan, were victims of domestic violence or child marriage, or acted in self-defense. Not all of them will have families with the resources or willingness to raise blood money. Not all will attract international media attention.
Kouhkan's case is a win — she will be released and hopes to be reunited with her son. But it's also a reminder that in a system built on retribution, survival can depend on luck, community, and money rather than justice.
