“The number of explosions, the destruction, what is happening – it’s unbelievable,” says Salar (name changed), describing life in Tehran since strikes began on 28 February. The US and Israel have targeted military and political sites across Iran; officials say some areas not intended as targets have been hit. Iranian authorities reported more than 160 people, including children, were killed when a girls’ school in Minab was struck; the White House says it is investigating and that US forces do not target civilians.
Tehran has been under near-constant bombardment. “Each day has felt like a month,” Salar says. A recent strike shook his whole house; he left windows open so glass would not shatter. Many shops are closed, some ATMs are offline, and queues for petrol and bread are “unbelievable.” Supermarkets and bakeries remain open but the price of staples such as eggs and potatoes has exploded. The city feels “empty” and people only leave home for urgent reasons.
Security has tightened. Checkpoints are widespread and police presence has increased. “They’re scared of their own shadows,” a 25-year-old student in Tehran says. Salar says security forces have sent SMS warnings telling people that if they go outside to protest they will be treated harshly, even labelled “Israeli collaborators.” He believes the messages implied threats of force, possibly deadly.
Zanjan, about 275km north-east of Tehran, has also been hit. Kaveh (name changed) says his city was heavily bombed in the first days and fighter jets pass constantly overhead. Smoke from strikes has clouded the sky in a scene he calls “simultaneously beautiful and horrifying.” He and others worry about keeping contact with family amid internet disruptions: his connection cut off midday on the first day and was unavailable for two days. Many are using VPNs to bypass government blocks, but access is intermittent and difficult.
People are leaving Tehran when they can. Salar sent his parents north although he was unsure which cities were safe. His mother was “very frightened” and he says these strikes are worse than anything she experienced in the Iran-Iraq war in the 1980s. Others cannot move because of illness or lack of options.
The security environment also complicates reporting: international news organisations are often refused visas and internet blackouts make independent information scarce. That scarcity shapes how Iranians learn about and react to events, including the killing of the supreme leader. Due to tight controls, it is hard to gauge the overall public response. Some celebrated in the streets while others joined government-led mourning. Kaveh says news of Khamenei’s death initially felt unreal. “I had always imagined that moment would feel like happiness, but it didn’t,” he says, adding that years of suffering and loss made the removal of one figure evoke anger more than joy.
Amid fear, some remain hopeful. Salar says many people are deeply stressed and cautions those abroad—especially monarchists supporting US and Israeli action—that they cannot fully understand what Iranians are experiencing. “I hope they never have to,” he says. Kaveh believes the conflict “won’t end as quickly as we thought,” but says his hope grows stronger each day. “Without this ‘operation,’ something worse would definitely have happened,” he adds. “This way, at least there is still a chance for life and for tomorrow.”
Additional reporting by Alex Boyd, Ghoncheh Habibiazad, Caroline Hawley and Tom McArthur
