Source
Archive URL: https://airwars.org/source/www-irna-ir-%d8%ad%d8%b3%db%8c%d9%86-%d8%ae%d8%af%d9%85%d8%aa%db%8c-2026-04-10-050054/
Captured Post Date:
2026-04-10 05:00
Translated Author:
Hossein Khemdati
Author:
حسین خدمتی
Translated Content:
Islamic Republic News Agency, in an interview with the family of Pouran Gholipour, the martyred principal of the Minab school, in the city of Yasuj.
Includes Video:
Yes
Translated Video Transcript:
[On the principal Pouran Gholipour: Her husband and her brother are sitting in the video and speaking. In the end, her mother is shown. She is talking in Lori and I cannot understand. ]
Husband: (family name: Azizi).
On the day of the incident, after the initial alert was raised, schools were informed that there was a possibility of further attacks and that students should be sent home. Teachers and staff began calling parents to come and pick up their children. My own son was one of the students at Shajareh Tayyebeh School, and his mother went to the school to bring him back.
Before they could even properly enter the schoolyard, there was a loud explosion from the far end of the compound. Immediately, smoke and dust rose into the air. When we reached the school, the entire area was already engulfed in thick dust and debris. Within a very short time, the whole schoolyard was filled with smoke, and around twenty to thirty people who had come out of the school were completely covered in dust.
Because of the density of the debris and the chaos in the yard, movement became extremely difficult. One of the students recognized my son—I rushed toward him, and with the help of others, we managed to get him out of the yard. But inside, it was clear that something far worse had happened.
We returned to the schoolyard. Within minutes, it became crowded with people—families, neighbors, and others rushing in. The situation was extremely heavy and chaotic. At times, even rescue operations were disrupted because of the crowding. The rubble was dense and difficult to clear. Emergency, military, and security forces arrived after a few minutes, and debris removal began with the help of both rescue teams and ordinary people.
It was an unbearable scene. Bodies were being recovered—many of them dismembered. During the debris removal, we found one of the teachers alive. We helped free her breathing and managed to pull her hand out from under the rubble, but we didn’t have the strength or equipment to do more. We called the rescue teams, and they eventually pulled her out.
What makes this even more horrifying is the sequence of the attack. The first missile struck a clinic nearby. Then another hit the school. This raises a fundamental question: what possible justification could there be for targeting a school? This was not a military zone. The school had been operating for about ten years. Its appearance was unmistakable—colorful walls, classrooms, a sports field, food facilities. It was clearly an educational space.
The school itself was large, consisting of three separate yards: the boys’ section, approximately 4,000 square meters; the girls’ section, around 3,000 square meters; and a preschool area of about 500 to 600 square meters. In total, it was a vast educational complex. There were no military activities there—none whatsoever. Not even nearby; the surrounding areas were residential.
This was not a military mistake. The signs were completely clear: this was a functioning school with hundreds of students—over 400 children from different grades, boys and girls, including preschool.
Brother:
I arrived that night, and my sister was not among the bodies or the injured who could be identified. We went to the site of the incident. The bodies—torn apart—were still beneath the rubble.
My sister’s body was among the last to be found. And when they found her, she had two students in her arms.
Modern aerial targeting systems operate in real time. In this very operation—during what they called the Ramadan war—we saw cases where even a moving vehicle was identified and struck with precision.
But here we are talking about a school—one that had been operating for nearly ten years, where around 400 students entered and left every single day. This was clearly an educational environment: school walls covered with children’s drawings, educational boards, a sports yard—everything about it unmistakably a place of learning.
And yet they claim they “did not recognize” it? That this was some kind of mistake?
Content:
خبرگزاری ایرنا، در گفت و گو با خانواده «شهیده پوران قلی پور مدیر مدرسه میناب» در شهر یاسوج
Images: 
Additional Details
Captured Date
2026-05-04T12:37:25.000Z
Language
Persian
Incident