My family and I have no idea if, or when, we will return – or what we may return to.
Gilan, Iran – The prospect of war seemed to creep nearer to reality with each passing day, but perhaps few of the millions who have been forced to abandon their homes across Iran in the past week – including myself – could have known this new reality would impose itself so harshly or abruptly.
The first explosions jolted people awake in Tehran shortly after 3am on June 13, when a large number of Israeli fighter jets and drones attacked dozens of areas across the country, and explosives-laden quadcopters and anti-fortification Spike guided missiles were launched by Israeli agents from inside Iran.
Entire residential buildings were levelled in the capital, military sites and air defence batteries were targeted, and above-ground facilities supporting nuclear enrichment halls buried deep inside mountains in Isfahan province’s Natanz were bombed. Dozens of civilians were killed, as were a large number of top military commanders and nuclear scientists.
Tehran was in shock the first morning after the attacks, as people struggled to process the terrifying news and evaluate their options while the authorities scrambled to mount a concerted response to the surprise hits.
As the attacks came on a Friday morning – the last day of the weekend in Iran – most city streets were eerily quiet in the immediate aftermath, except for those where Israeli bombs had made an impact.
Soon, however, hours-long queues had formed at almost every single fuel station across the sprawling capital, which has a population of nearly 10 million people and holds more than 15 million during busy workdays, as millions also commute from neighbouring cities like Karaj.
I went out to visit a few of the targeted sites in western Tehran: Multiple homes had been destroyed in the Patrice Lumumba neighbourhood, several floors of a 15-storey building providing accommodation for university professors had caved in at Saadat Abad and adjacent buildings were damaged, while the top two floors of another residential building had been completely wiped out in Marzdaran. All were successful targeted assassinations – including of several top nuclear scientists – and many civilians were also killed.
Later that night, Iran’s armed forces began launching hundreds of missiles and drones at Israel in retaliation. Nearly one week on, at least 16 rounds of Iranian strikes have been launched, with no immediate end in sight as Tehran says it will continue to hit back so long as Israel is attacking. Meanwhile, United States President Donald Trump teases triggering an all-out regional war by directly entering the war alongside Israel, which he and Washington’s Western allies already support with cutting-edge munitions, a massive fleet of refuelling planes and intelligence efforts.
On Monday, after three days of evaluating the situation, my family and I decided to join the countless others who had already fled Tehran.
After hurriedly packing some clothes and a few belongings in a suitcase, I drove from my own place to my girlfriend’s house to pick her up at about 4pm. Her parents, who work in healthcare, needed to stay in Tehran that day but they have since left as well, after Israeli air strikes intensified in their neighbourhood.
We then picked up my mother – along with our four cats who have been staying with her – from her home in western Tehran, close to a major road which exits the capital.
Israeli bombs were falling on multiple areas across western Tehran as we scurried to grab the cats and put them in their boxes.
The unmistakable sounds of the explosions, which leave a sickening, sinking sensation in your stomach no matter how many times you hear them, only added to the urgency – especially since the Israeli military had issued a new evacuation threat at about the same time and then bombed the state television headquarters.
Fleeing north
We left Tehran with heavy hearts, not knowing when we might return. The buildings were already mostly empty of residents.
The feeling that we may not return to the same intact neighbourhoods was unavoidable, as was the terror we feel for those who wanted to leave but could not, whether because they are nursing a sick family member or because they simply lacked the means to do so. Iran’s ailing economy has been dragged under the weight of years of local mismanagement and US sanctions.
I am writing this from a small but vibrant city in the province of Gilan in northern Iran. The northern provinces, also including Mazandaran and Golestan, are where most Iranians have opted to go. They are relatively close to Tehran, have far fewer places that could be potential targets for the Israeli army, and were already popular travel destinations with a large number of hotels that many have visited before.
Many here have opened their homes to people displaced from other provinces, too. Six million people have entered Mazandaran alone since last week, according to Iran’s deputy police chief, Qasem Rezaei.
The authorities are trying to reassure the population, especially Iranians who have fled to the northern provinces, that the government faces no problems in providing for their basic needs, especially food and fuel.
But in the meantime, 90 million Iranians have been thrown into a state of uncertainty, frustration and anger while trying to maintain hope for a semblance of normal life when the country is not constantly under threat of military action or isolated from the international community.
For ordinary civilians, the situation is seriously compounded by the fact that they have been completely cut off from the internet for days, with internet observatory NetBlocks confirming on Friday that 97 percent of the country’s connectivity was down. Barring a handful of small daily updates gleaned from state media or local sources, Iranians have little idea about the extent of the Israeli military strikes across the country.
The Iranian authorities began imposing internet restrictions from the first day of the Israeli strikes, but increased them as Israel expanded its offensive and a pro-Israeli hacking group also launched cyberattacks.
Several of the country’s top banks have been taken offline as a result of the cyberattacks, as well as Iran’s top cryptocurrency exchange, Nobitex, which said its “hot wallet” had been compromised but promised it would return any lost money.
Iranian officials, who also took the country offline during the deadly nationwide protests in November 2019, claimed disconnecting the internet was necessary to fend off Israeli quadcopters and other projectiles, but gave no timeline as to when they would restore full connectivity.
Iran already has one of the most closed-off and slowed-down internet connections in the world, as almost all major global messaging apps and other services, along with tens of thousands of websites, are blocked and only accessible through workarounds such as virtual private networks (VPNs).
If you are reading this now, it means I managed to find a barely functioning connection to send this out.
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