Arezou remembers the incident like it was yesterday: walking to work as a teacher in Tehran, Iran's capital, she was stopped.
It was the morality police. Her clothes were "too tight", showing off her "body shape".
She was asked to go into a van, but she refused, so they pushed her in.
"In the police station, I asked, 'why did you arrest me?" Arezou told the ABC. "I said, 'I did nothing wrong, I'm a human being, I have the right to choose my clothes'.
"They called in the person in charge, he got close to me, so close I could smell his breath, and he told me, 'would you like me to take you underground and show you what we do with women who talk like you'?"
Azadeh, now 42, has a similar story.
"I was in the street, I was told I had the wrong dress on," she said. "They take girls [into the station] they hit them and they scream at them.
"One time, I was at party and the police came in to check if any alcohol was in there. Men and women aren't allowed to mix so everyone there ran away. It was a children's party."
'I'm scared of the Iranian government'
For both women, now safe in Australia after escaping Iran almost a decade ago, run-ins with Iran's notorious morality police were common — so common it was just part of life.
But that all changed with Mahsa Amini, a 22-year-old woman who died in custody last month after being detained by the morality police.
Her death sparked widespread protests in Iran, with the latest this week spreading to the country's vital petroleum sector.
Despite calls for unity from the country's rulers and harsh crackdowns from security forces, many are continuing to demand regime change as more women defy strict rules to join the protests.
Both Azadeh and Arezou came to Australia by boat.
Azadeh spent several months in various detention centres. Arezou was detained on Christmas Island for two years — a process she describes as "the worst experience of my life".
They both remain in the country; Arezou is on a safe haven enterprise visa, while Azadeh is on a bridging visa.
They have been looking back at their homeland with a mix of trepidation, pride and anxiety — they fear their relatives involved in any protests will be taken into custody or killed.
For Azadeh, it's a fear for her sister, who is still based in Iran.
"I'm scared of the Iranian government," she said.
"It is not safe there. My sister went to one protest, but she's frightened now, it's very dangerous.
"The [police] they put [the protesters] in cars and take them for nothing, for no reason."
But both women feel inspired when they look at the thousands who have joined the protests, hoping it will lead to change in their homeland.
"What happened to Mahsa Amini can happen to [any] woman in Iran," said Arezou, now based in Sydney's west.
"When you are only nine years old, they force you to cover your body, your hair, like you [as a female] are not enough to make your own decisions about your body, your appearance, and you are not a complete human.
"We had the feeling we are just like assets, instead of being human."
Arezou said the protests were different to what they've seen in the past, because this time there were "men supporting them".
"This is a very rare experience," she said.
"These women at the protests in Iran, they are chanting 'my life, my body'.
"I don't think we've ever seen such a thing in Iran, this huge kind of feminist revolution, people altogether hand-to-hand fighting for women's rights. And the men, they're fighting for their daughters, for the sisters, for their wives."
Canberra protest
In Canberra on Wednesday, hundreds joined protests calling for democracy for Iran and the advancement of women's rights.
Some burnt their Iranian passports, others covered their hands in fake blood.
Both Arezou and Azadeh were there as "a voice for the people of Iran" because they "need help".
"I see how Iranian women struggle," Arezou said.
"I came from that country, I came from that background and I am familiar with the pain. As a human being, I feel if I can if I can do something, I have to do that."