Cut off from the world by a government-imposed media blackout, a young woman in Tehran managed to briefly connect with The New York Post this week, describing the bloodshed and determination unfolding in Iran’s capital. For safety reasons, she spoke on condition of anonymity.
She began with a devastating personal loss — the fifth death within her circle in recent days. Her friend’s cousin was shot in the face while shielding his wife during a protest. His family was forced to pay the government a “bullet fee” — roughly $5,000 — just to retrieve his body. The official death certificate listed a false cause of death: “impact of a sharp object.”
Despite state violence, despair has turned into defiance. Last week, Tehran’s streets were packed with protesters — families, elders, even pregnant women — demanding regime change. The government responded with tear gas, sound bombs, and eventually live ammunition. “This regime is so ruthless and blood thirsty that it is ready to kill everyone” she said, estimating casualties in the tens of thousands.
The woman shared, “the city is very unsafe, especially in the afternoon onwards. My friend’s brother was returning home from work on Saturday in the Mahdieh district and a group of thugs wearing paramilitary uniforms broke the windows of cars in traffic and attacked the drivers with machetes.”
By Saturday, elite anti-terrorism units joined the crackdown, using drones to identify demonstrators “so they could attack them.” Authorities have raided homes to seize satellite dishes — the last fragile link to outside news. At the same time, citizens receive threatening text warnings labeling them as “rioters.”
The woman shared that “on Sunday, a message came to my husband’s phone saying that he’d been identified as present at illegal protests in the Sattar Khan neighborhood, and he was being monitored. The message said that he should leave the protest site immediately, otherwise you will be identified as a rioter. We were out at the protest and it was scary, but being in the crowd makes you feel stronger and braver.”
Life in Tehran, she explained, has become a mix of terror and suffocating hardship. Shops close unusually early. Paramilitary gangs attack people in traffic. Basic costs have soared — chicken and eggs up 35 percent in a month — while pollution, water shortages, and economic collapse deepen daily misery.
And yet, in cemeteries like Behesht Zahra, mourners chant “Death to the dictator” as they bury the young. The woman believes this wave of resistance feels different — suggesting it almost feels unstoppable.
“We are hostages in our own country,” she said, after noting the mass murder gripping the nation. “But we believe in a better future. We are fighting for our freedom
