This is a video game, and the man is Iranian musician Shahin Najafi. The game was made in Iran shortly after a fatwa was put on him last May. Najafi says he knows of the game. In fact, he’s played it.

“It was pretty cool, I got to kill myself. But then I was alive again. So, I enjoyed that.” Najafi says.

He finds it sad that anyone would want him dead so badly they produced a video game about it.

“I feel pretty disappointed that someone sat down – an Iranian person sat down – and made that game. How much hate they have in their heart disappoints me and I do feel sorry for them,” he says.

Najafi has had a series of problems with Iranian authorities. He started his music career singing for various underground bands in Iran. But in 2005 he was arrested for performing concerts that officials claimed were ‘inciting unrest’ and ‘undermining leadership.’ So he fled the country and moved to Germany. There he produced the song that caused the fatwa — a rap about critical issues facing Iran.

Najafi’s rap criticizes everything from international sanctions and empty political slogans, to the irony of nationalists praying on Chinese-made prayer rugs. It was released on YouTube and it’s called ‘Naghi.’

“Releasing Naghi was the final nail in the coffin. Where they unequivocally stated how they felt about me, which was, that I should die,” Najafi says.

That was back in May. He immediately went into hiding in Germany. While staying under the radar, Najafi continued promoting his recent album, called ‘Hich, Hich, Hich.”

Najafi doesn’t rap much in the new album. He says the album is inspired by jazz, soft rock and blues. Najafi jokes that at thirty-two, he’s getting too ‘old’ to run around on stage and rap for two hours straight. He says sitting on a chair and playing acoustic guitar is more his speed these days.

Najafi’s music is popular among many young dissidents in Iran and abroad. Whether he’s rapping or singing the blues, his use of satire to highlight Iran’s socio-political problems resonates with many Iranians.

Within weeks of the fatwa decree, Najafi got thousands more Facebook fans. Many in the Iranian diaspora reached out in support, and they even helped him plan his first US and Canada tour.

Najafi says he’s actually less scared on tour in the States than when he’s in hiding in Europe. That’s because he thinks the Iranian government is less likely to lay a hand on him on US soil — for fear of international attention. Najafi says he hopes his concerts can bring the Iranian diaspora together.

“I’ve always doubted the power of politics in bringing people together. Art, on the other hand, brings people together all the time. Art can make you cry, it can make you laugh,” he says.

And it can make your life pretty complicated if you’re an Iranian artists who’s challenging authority.

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“I was getting calls from people in Pakistan saying, ‘Hey, you have to do something. You have to write something.’ Even my mom was like, ‘You do a rap for everybody, you should do something for her too.’”

But Syed says he had already began writing a spoken-word poem dedicated to Malala Yousafzai, which he’s now posted on YouTube.

Syed starts the spoken-word poem saying, “All she really wants to do is read. The first verse in the Quran is to read.” He said that an important belief in Islam is to educate ones self.

“Reading and getting an education is an Islamic right,” Syed said. “This was just a way of responding to the Taliban extremists and possibly any future extremists who try to come out and justify what had been done. I wanted to make it very clear that Islam, or God, would not condone what they did. The Quran says that God is telling the prophet to read. It’s like your Muslim duty to go out and be educated and be knowledgeable.”

In both Urdu and English, Syed raps, “You sisters, you mothers, you daughters: the respect of the nation is in your hands.” He explains it’s a very old saying in Pakistan. He sang it in both languages to make sure young women in Pakistan understood the lyrics.

“It says that the nation is in women’s hands. And it’s up to them to lead the way. I was thinking of all Muslims when I wrote this. My attack was towards the Taliban, but also to tell the nation of Pakistan that literacy is something we’re suffering and she was trying to advance it. She is a representation of something that people in Pakistan desperately need, which is education.”

Syed, who is also a sociology student at Sacramento State, produced another rap video last month urging tolerance and understanding of Sikhs in the wake of the Wisconsin shootings. In an interview with The World’s Marco Werman he says he uses rap to break down stereotypes.

“I think that the media has always stereotyped – made a stereotype – that anyone who has a beard, who has a turban, must be a terrorist,” Syed said. “That’s very untrue and, in fact, most Muslims don’t even have turbans.”

Syed has also rapped about Pakistan’s earthquake, the floods in Bangladesh, and the discrimination that sometimes comes with growing up as a Muslim-American after 9-11.

Lyrics to “Malala Yousafzai”
Chorus:

All she really wants to do is Read
The first verse in the Quran is to Read
Because when you read to the people you go out and Lead
When Malala bleeds the whole country bleeds
Because she represents the seed of what we need
So many mouths and minds to feed
So when the Taliban, Yeah when the Taliban shot Malala
They shot a part of Pakistan, The Part of Pakistan
That believed in the first verse of the Quran and that is
and that is to read
All she really wants to do is Read
The first verse in the Quran is to Read
Because when you read to the people you go out and Lead
When Malala bleeds the whole country bleeds
Because she represents the seed of what we need
So many mouths and minds to feed

Lyrics:
Now Swat Valley is a beautiful place
But Swat Valley has turned into a murderous place
Swat Valley is also the same place in which Malala was born in 1998
Who would of thought a gunman would try to decide her fate
But no gunman can decide her fate, only God can
I think God had a plan for her to fight Taliban
Woman’s education was at the top of her goal
So when they banned school
They straight up crushed her soul
So she started to blog and she started to protest, and pretty soon became activists
A symbol for Pakistani people that were starting to feel repressed
Stuck in war between the east and the west
U.S. foreign policy and Taliban causing a mess
So when Malala was shot by an extremist the whole country screamed that shedidn’t deserve this
It sparked of something you wouldn’t believe
People saying the Taliban has hijacked my country
And that it is time for them to leave
Protests in Numerous Pakistani Cities
And I heard 50 Islamic clerics have issued Fatwas condemning the Talibans actions now
Wow like how could a child so young become the voice of inspiration
For everyone, like so many women who go to school and then work at night
Only to come home and prepare meals for their families at night
But one of these women told me she is no longer feeling bad about her life
No she is thinking about Malala’s sacrifice and how she herself is lucky to live in a
place where she can be independent and utilize her education right
An inspiration and Light so I use Malala’s message when I talk to Pakistani Women to Unite
Tum batia, Tum Maaou, Tum baana quam ki izzat aap ki haath main hai
You sisters, you mothers, you daughters the respect of the nation is in your hands
So don’t say we cant only say that we can, to a higher education
To a better Pakistan, my Pakistan, your Pakistan
Mera Pakistan, Tumara Pakistan, Hamara Pakistan
Yee Pyari Zameen aur yee pyara Asman
Broken into little tukra by the U.S. Drone Strikes and Taliban
And somebody better please help the Taliban understand that
The Prophet Muhammad told us that Paradise was at our Mothers feet
And to honor our daughters and to treat them with respect so tell me Tehreeki
Taliban is this how you treat your Muslim Sister with respect, by shooting her in the
head and the neck
What kind of Islam is this, what kind of Islam is this, What kind of Islam is this
Please let me know what your following cause I know its not Islam
How could you hurt a girl for trying to follow the first verse of the Quran
Because all she wanted to do was to read

Chorus:
All she really wants to do is Read
The first verse in the Quran is to Read
Because when you read to the people you go out and Lead
When Malala bleeds the whole country bleeds
Because she represents the seed of what we need
So many mouths and minds to feed
So when the Taliban, Yeah when the Taliban shot Malala
They shot a part of Pakistan, The Part of Pakistan
That believed in the first verse of the Quran and that is
and that is to read
Also if the U.S is get inspired by women rights
And wants to fight the good fight then stop the drop strikes
Because education needs to be at the core of any mission
So stop dropping bombs and start dropping knowledge
You say you are for womens rights then why don’t you build a women’s college
Because Illiteracy and Poverty is disease, and drone strikes are the propaganda
on which the Taliban feeds, people joining them because theyre angry that theyre
families have been wiped out entirely
And revenge could keep us in a mental fortitude of slavery
So I am praying really hard for Malalas recovery
Because she brought the proof to the truth, and the truth to abosolute,
And absolute to the proof, proof to the absolute, and absolute to the truth
That’s what happens when education succeeds
Iqra bismi rabbika, read, read, read

He’s currently in exile in East Oakland, after his music caught the ire of Tehran.

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California’s Central Valley is home to thousands of Hmong refugees from Laos. But local hospitals and doctors there have struggled to treat them.

Traditionally the Hmong were more likely to see a shaman than a doctor when they were sick, so many of them ended up getting treated in the emergency room. But that’s changing thanks to a program called “Partners in Healing” began in Merced.

A Hmong shaman dressed in an ornate red costume is standing in a crowded living room in Winton, a small town in central California. She sways back and forth rhythmically as she shakes small ceremonial bells and chants over a young pregnant woman who sits quietly.

A rope is lightly tied around the woman’s stomach. It connects to another rope wrapped around the belly of a newly slaughtered pig that lies on a plastic sheet in the living room.

After the ceremony, the woman and her family prepare the pig for a feast.

May Yang is the shaman. She said the ceremony was to help the mother and baby. The Hmong traditionally believe that physical health depends on the soul’s health. In this case, the pregnant woman and her unborn child’s souls are bound together, and that connection has to be severed before the birth – otherwise both mother and child could get ill or die. The shaman is the only person who can do this “soul-splitting” ceremony. That’s where the pig comes in.

The chants are a sort of negotiation with the spirit world. The shamans offer the slaughtered pig’s soul in exchange for a safe delivery. May Yang said this has been, in essence, the Hmong version of prenatal care. But Yang said things are changing.

“The Hmong, they had a very difficult time to understand western medicine,” she said. “Nowadays people are more likely to visit a doctor when they’re sick.”

That’s because Yang and other shamans are being trained in western medicine. And are now more likely to refer their patients to doctors. This was crucial because Hmong health care, especially for women, was in a sorry state.

“When my patient call to do a ceremony, I usually tell them to go the doctor first,” she said. “If the doctor cannot find anything then they will come to me and I will do the ceremony for them.”

Yang is one of many that have been trained at the Partners in Healing program at Mercy Medical Center. It’s a unique program in Merced that teaches the shamans the basics of western medicine, like what X-Rays are, what heart monitors do, and when to call for an ambulance.

Changvang Her is an interpreter who translates for shamans and the hospital’s Hmong patients.

Changvang demonstrated how an automated recording of his voice explains in Hmong how to take a CAT Scan — for when he’s not around to translate for patients.

Her also acts as a cultural broker between the shamans and medical staff. He said the key is to explain things like CAT Scans in a way that’s sensitive to how shamans see the world.

“The doctor use this (CAT Scan) to see illness and disease, whereas the shaman they can see spirits, so we make that comparison so they understand about the equipment,” he said.

Changvang Her said the Partners in Healing program, now in its twelfth year, makes shamans and the Hmong community more trusting of western health care. The reverse is also true — doctors now know what to expect from their Hmong patients.

Janice Wilkerson directs cultural programs at the hospital in Merced. She said doctors made some mistakes at first they weren’t very proud of — and did not want to have happen again.

“Part of their belief is if you have surgery and you cut a person open, than you’re releasing their spirit,” she explained as an example.

And you can imagine how that would play out in an emergency room, she said. But Wilkerson said the Hmong refugees and their doctors now know what to expect. Partly because the Partners in Healing program has trained over one hundred shamans throughout California/the Central Valley about things like incisions during surgery. Now physicians in countries with growing Hmong populations, like Australia and Germany, look to Merced as a model.

As with many refugees, Azin Izadifar carried memories of violence and trauma with her to the US. She lives alone now in a small studio apartment in San Jose, Calif. When she first moved to the US in 2009, the troubled memories of her life in Iran followed her.

“At a certain time during the night I would wake up shouting. Like, having nightmares. I always always had this problem,” she said.

Izadifar was arrested for participating in secret meetings during Iran’s 1979 revolution, and spent the next three years being tortured in Iran’s notorious Evin prison. She continued to have run-ins with the Iranian government after her release, so she sought asylum in the US.

Izadifar found that even though she was in America, and “safe,” life was difficult. But cultural and practical barriers kept her from seeking help.

She eventually saw a therapist, and was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD. She said she sees the same PTSD symptoms in new Iranian refugees -whether or not they did time in jail. And most of them, she said, aren’t seeking therapy.

“There’s a tendency in our culture to underestimate that and say, ‘Okay, that was passed. Now we are in a free society. We have to live our lives. We have to buy a car and get a job and just be normal,’” she said.

Jasmine, a 24-year-old Iraqi refugee, said she’s all too familiar with that cultural resistance to getting mental health care. In fact, that’s why she didn’t want to give her real name. She was diagnosed with PTSD, and doesn’t want the Iraqi community in San Jose to ostracize her family if they found out.

Jasmine fled Iraq with her family after insurgents killed her father in a drive-by shooting. They escaped to Syria, then resettled in San Jose three years later. And that’s when depression hit her hard.

“You left your home. You left the like place that you belong to. You left your people who loved there. Even like, sometimes I feel like everything’s like for me after I left Iraq is different. Even like a rose, the air, the dust. I know back home. The dust of back home. The air of back home. I know back home. The dust of back home. The air of back home,” she said.

It’s not just that refugees miss their homelands. Most have been exposed to violence and trauma unheard of in the west. In the United States, you would go to a therapist. But many in the refugee community would never think that way, said Sally Sharrock, a former therapist with Centers for Survivors of Torture. She said they’re more likely to go to a family member for help, or a medical doctor.

As part of the refugee package, people are entitled to medical and mental health care. Families with minors get five years of free social services. Refugees without kids get only eight months of services free, then they’re generally on their own. Either way, Sharrock’s job was to get people into counseling, and to keep them coming back after their first session. Sharrock said her stealth sessions often begin with her giving practical support.

“So a lot of people are really actually more interested in really being able to find a job and support their family and find good housing,” she said, “before they’re ready for any kind of psychological supportive services or therapy.”

As she begins addressing mental health issues with refugees, Sharrock said she avoids using terms that might be associated with a mental illness, like “depression,” or “anxiety.” She said she’s found that one term seems to work across the board.

“Often times we find the word “stress” works for people,” she said. “I may then ask them how they’ve been affected by stress, how they’ve been coping with it in their own culture up until now. And our conversation will kind of progress from there.”

Centers for Survivors of Torture uses other methods to bring in refugees to their office, like hosting potlucks and educational seminars. To make that approach work, they rely on other refugees in the community, like Jasmine. She now goes to Iraqi cultural events, handing out Arabic-language pamphlets about the free therapy at the Center.

“The whole situation in Iraq not normal. So we need like, more programs for mental health,” Jasmine said.

Jasmine said helping other refugees like her makes it easier to heal the wounds of her own past trauma.