“Why Did Iran Come to This Point?”

For now we are alive. Our neighborhood has not been hit; apparently there are no government buildings around here. In the past five or six days I have only left the house twice. On one side there are these relentless attacks, destruction, fire, and smoke; on the other side there are government groups riding motorcycles and cars through the streets shouting “Allahu Akbar” and “Heydar Heydar” [a phrase often used to show loyalty to leadership]. As if they haven’t already brought enough calamity upon us.

Sometimes I think how good it is that my husband passed away last year and did not live to see this situation. And I don’t know how I would have taken care of him alone if he had been alive, since he had become paralyzed and bedridden.

We still have water and food, and I haven’t touched the emergency supplies I had set aside. I have very kind neighbours; they feel sorry for me because of my age and loneliness and keep checking on me so I won’t be alone, asking if I need anything they can bring me. As long as the water and electricity haven’t been cut off, I thank God.

I constantly ask myself, why did we end up like this? Why did Iran come to this point? Sometimes, when the air feels like spring, I become much more optimistic—that if we come out of this hell, maybe new horizons will open for Iran. I am near the end of my life; perhaps the will open for the younger generation.

The writer is a retired woman in her 70s living in Tehran.

This is an edited version of an article that originally appeared in Aasoo.