This is an account from a young woman living in Tehran, who chose to remain anonymous for her safety. She hasn’t had any communication with the outside world since the Iranian government enforced a media blackout, but she managed to send some messages to the Post recently. Over several hours, she shared a distressing yet hopeful narrative about current events, presented in a somewhat fragmented way. Here is what she conveyed:
As I’m writing this, I’ve just learned of another death—a fifth one in just a few days connected to my circle. This time it was my best friend’s cousin.
He was at the protest with his wife when a green light, probably from a gun laser, hit her face. He instinctively shielded her but was shot in the face and died.
As with many others who have died, the regime demanded a “lump fee” from the family before returning his body. They had to pay 500 million tomans (about $5,000) to recover him, and he was buried today.
Strangely, the official cause of death states “impact with a sharp object to the face.” Despite their attempts to charge for bullets, it doesn’t clearly state he was shot.
Amid all this fear, there’s a prevailing belief that this time might be different. Everyone feels it. The streets of Tehran are alive with people demanding their rights and protesting against the government.
Last Thursday and Friday were remarkable. The protests were massive, so large that they seemed to overwhelm the police and security forces.
During that time, they used tear gas, pepper spray, and sound bombs to intimidate us and try to disperse the crowds.
It was terrifying, yet something significant stood out to me. Despite the police presence and the fear in the air, families brought their children to the protests.
I even saw a pregnant woman standing with demonstrators, raising her voice for her rights.
Older generations joined hands with the youth. People of all ages shared the suffering from the current situation and are unified in wanting regime change.
However, everything shifted drastically on Saturday. Anti-terrorism police were deployed, leading to a severe crackdown where protesters were shot.
This regime is merciless, willing to kill anyone, including innocent bystanders, merely chanting for their rights. They fire live rounds without hesitation, but they won’t back down.
I’ve heard over 10,000 fatalities reported. Pure brutality. Families must pay a “bullet fee” just to reclaim the bodies of their loved ones.
Five people I knew personally have died, and it’s devastating. Three were friends of my cousin; two were sons of my mother’s friends. Their lives were taken while protesting for our basic right to freedom.
Since the crackdown intensified on Saturday, protests have been less populated. But Iranians continue to take to the streets, despite the fear.
Our connection to the outside world is nearly severed. News is accessible only via satellite (when it’s working)—otherwise, it’s as though all communication has been cut off.
Oddly enough, police have started entering homes uninvited, taking away satellites from rooftops to identify users.
Just yesterday, my husband received an alarming message saying he had been flagged and monitored for attending protests in Sattar Khan district.
The message warned people to leave the protest area or risk being branded as rioters. Being in the crowd was intense, but also gave a sense of strength and courage.
Last night, drones were deployed in a neighborhood called Punaku to identify protesters for potential attacks.
The overall atmosphere in the city feels surreal. Most shops close around 5 p.m. which is alarming for a city like Tehran, where businesses usually operate late.
The situation is dangerous, especially after dark. A friend’s brother was attacked by a group in paramilitary garb on Saturday, which left him injured and needing surgery.
In our neighborhood, with its many offices and workshops, you typically don’t hear much noise or chanting in the evenings.
But in other parts of the city, you can definitely hear chants and witness rallies escalating.
After years of silence, struggling under extreme repression and hardship, people finally seem to have shattered their silence.
Life is rough, and maintaining a semblance of normalcy is nearly impossible. Prices have soared even before the unrest began—just last month, the cost of chicken and eggs skyrocketed by 35%.
It’s become extremely challenging to manage basic living expenses.
The air quality is horrid, often limiting visibility to less than 100 meters.
Water is routinely cut off at night from around 9 or 10 p.m. to 6 a.m., three days a week.
For the last 47 years, rather than fostering growth or development, our leaders have only delivered destruction—of our environment, cultural heritage, and international relations—leaving us engulfed in poverty.
Everything has escalated to a point of mass death.
At Behesht Zahra cemetery today, mourners shouted “Death to the dictator” while bidding farewell to yet another young victim as more bodies were buried.
Make no mistake about it, this is mass murder. We are hostages in our own land. Yet, we remain hopeful for a better future and continue to fight for freedom.
I truly hope that international leaders, including President Trump, will remember their promises to stand with the Iranian people and help dismantle this oppressive regime, allowing us to reclaim our rightful place in the world.
