Total repression and air strikes bring unrelenting dread for Iranians

Total Repression and Air Strikes Bring Unrelenting Dread for Iranians

A City of Tension and Silence

Tonight, the city below is quiet, save for the muted hum of traffic. But for Baran, a businesswoman in her thirties, the calm is deceptive. She knows the sound of aircraft can disrupt this stillness at any moment. When the drones arrive, the barking begins—dogs often sensing danger first. Then follows the thunder of explosions, and the eerie glow of fire in a once-familiar district. The BBC has gathered footage and interviews from Tehran, capturing a city gripped by anxiety, where every moment feels like a countdown to the next attack.

The Weight of Fear

Baran, who asked to remain anonymous, now avoids stepping outside. “Opening my door feels like a risk,” she says. “It’s as if I’m betting my life on chance.” Though she lives alone, her connection to others remains constant. “We text endlessly, checking if everyone is safe—even when there’s no sound, the silence is worse than the noise.” Her hope for change was shattered months ago. In January, thousands perished in a government crackdown on protests, leaving her haunted by memories of those she lost. “I fear what tomorrow will bring,” she adds. “I fear who I’ll become. How will I endure another day?”

State Control and Propaganda

Repression has reached its peak. Dissent is stifled, with surveillance omnipresent. Footage shows regime loyalists driving through the city at night, flags fluttering from their vehicles—a warning to any who might question authority. The state controls all narratives, broadcasting only its version of events. Demonstrations and funerals are framed as unified efforts, while pro-regime officials and protesters consistently condemn America and Israel. Iranian citizens are portrayed as willing to sacrifice for the cause. Yet, independent journalists risk everything to document alternative truths. “In war, you never know what they’ll do,” one told the BBC.

Hope Amid Despair

Ali, a middle-class man in his forties, once believed the killing of Ayatollah Khamenei would spark transformation. Now, his neighborhood is a battlefield. Armed enforcers patrol streets, checkpoints block passage. “The city feels like a graveyard,” he says, taking anti-depressants to maintain his composure. “These are people not like us—supporters of the regime who’ve taken over the streets.” Despite the fear, hope persists. “We’re under attack, but our hearts still hold onto the possibility of change,” Ali explains. “It’s not about supporting America or Israel, but longing for a moment where the current system might collapse.”

Living Under Constant Threat

In her apartment, Baran listens for distant booms, her mind racing with the weight of uncertainty. “Our sky is different,” she muses. “They sleep beneath stars, while we sleep under rockets. Both skies shine, but one casts shadows of fear.” She believes the conflict will stretch for years, its effects seeping into daily life. “This war is inside our homes, inside our families. It’s not just bombs—it’s in our blood, in our lives.” Tehran’s citizens endure a relentless dread, their city forever marked by the presence of enemy forces and the threat of state punishment. With additional reporting by Alice Doyard.