This is the Guardian.

Today, the voices of Iran's protesters on what they really want.

This voice belongs to an Iranian student. We're going to call Nergis.

The song's called My Orange. It's about a longing for something that feels just out of reach.

Up until a few months ago, Nergis's life was a lot like those of other young Iranians.

She studied at university, she worked a job, she sang, and she lived with a sense of dread

about the things happening in the society around her.

My only happiness was to be able to work and earn for myself.

My real feeling was that I would wake up early in the morning and eat breakfast and prepare for the new day.

And of course, I would hear worse news every day.

She also wrote her motorcycle, not an entirely relaxing hobby.

Women in Iran can't get a license for motorcycles and the country's religious leaders have repeatedly said women shouldn't ride them.

But Nergis doesn't care.

I love riding motorcycles, but every day I leave the house with a stress because I might get cut.

These kinds of routine restrictions on what she could do as a woman had chaffed on Nergis her whole life.

At university, she had done some protesting, but nothing like what she's done these past two months.

Months that have transformed her life that started with the death of another young woman.

Her name was Masa Amini.

On the 16th of September this year, Masa died in the custody of Iran's morality police.

A unit of the Iranian government that dictates what women can wear in public.

And those women are mostly young, like Masa or Nergis.

And since that moment, Nergis has been in the streets.

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