On a bright Tehran spring day, Sanaei Ghaznavi street, with its mix of shops selling groceries and household goods alongside fast food and flowers, seems like an everyday place. In a country where lives have long been buffeted by crises, it offers a snapshot of a people just trying to get through the day while their future hangs in the balance of forces beyond their control. For Mohammad, in t-shirt and jeans, even cranking open the striped awning of his family's shoe shop is an act of hope. It makes me happy to be in here, he tells us when we wander into his pocket of a store with its floor-to-ceiling shelves of trainers. But the atmosphere is grim. So many people have lost their jobs and aren't working, he notes, with few customers in sight.
Mohammad's father, Mustafa, laments, We had so many before. This family business, now 40 years old, is feeling the pinch, alongside a report from an Iranian website estimating that up to four million jobs may have been lost due to the war and internet shutdown.
Boxes labelled with western logos line the shelves, but as both father and son note, Made in China dominates the offerings, and even fakes are expensive. Surprisingly, Mohammad expresses wry hope: We hope the war starts again, indicating that they believe a return to war might lead to changes that could improve their economic prospects.
Nearby, Shahla, an elderly woman, highlights the crisis faced by families as food prices escalate: People are paying three times more for a loaf of bread now... it's hell just to pay for bread. Despite the stark contrast in the living conditions of the affluent north versus the conservative south of Tehran, the tension is palpable everywhere, coupled with a visible increase in security presence.
In the evening, the atmosphere shifts, and pro-government gatherings start to build, with citizens now facing a challenging dichotomy between their desires for economic relief and the realities of political turmoil, uncertain futures, and the superficial comforts that still exist amid the hardships of life in Iran.
Mohammad's father, Mustafa, laments, We had so many before. This family business, now 40 years old, is feeling the pinch, alongside a report from an Iranian website estimating that up to four million jobs may have been lost due to the war and internet shutdown.
Boxes labelled with western logos line the shelves, but as both father and son note, Made in China dominates the offerings, and even fakes are expensive. Surprisingly, Mohammad expresses wry hope: We hope the war starts again, indicating that they believe a return to war might lead to changes that could improve their economic prospects.
Nearby, Shahla, an elderly woman, highlights the crisis faced by families as food prices escalate: People are paying three times more for a loaf of bread now... it's hell just to pay for bread. Despite the stark contrast in the living conditions of the affluent north versus the conservative south of Tehran, the tension is palpable everywhere, coupled with a visible increase in security presence.
In the evening, the atmosphere shifts, and pro-government gatherings start to build, with citizens now facing a challenging dichotomy between their desires for economic relief and the realities of political turmoil, uncertain futures, and the superficial comforts that still exist amid the hardships of life in Iran.
