Iranian livelihoods are being blown apart by US and Israeli bombs
As the US and Israel boast of the military success of their bombing campaign in Iran, ordinary Iranians describe a very different reality – one defined by profound losses.
The war has wrought destruction, relentless fear, financial ruin and the sudden collapse of years of hard work.
Ahmadreza, a shop owner in central Tehran, is one of them. The 40-year-old ran a small optical store until an air strike destroyed everything he had worked for.
"My entire life savings are gone," he told Middle East Eye. "Everything I had built over the years just disappeared in seconds."
Ahmadreza estimates his losses at around 150 billion rials, roughly $100,000.
"All the glasses I had imported burned," he said. "Now I am left with nothing but a pile of checks I have no idea how to pay."
Ahmadreza said there were no military sites near his shop, leaving him struggling to understand why the area had been targeted.
"No base, no police station, nothing," he said. "This was just a commercial area, a place where people came to buy glasses."
His voice turned bitter. "They [the US and Israel] said they were bringing us freedom. Is this what freedom looks like?"
The US‑Israeli bombing campaign has increasingly struck civilian infrastructure across Iran, leaving tens of thousands of non-military sites, such homes, schools and hospitals, damaged or completely destroyed.
Everything was gone
As the war enters its second month, many Iranians say the nature of the strikes has changed.
While Israeli officials maintain that they are targeting military infrastructure, people on the ground say civilian areas are increasingly being hit.
For many, the distinction no longer feels meaningful.
Mina, who works at a women's beauty salon in western Tehran, said her workplace was completely destroyed in one of the strikes.
She still remembers the night before it happened.
"I couldn't sleep," she said. "The sound of the jets was so close, like something buzzing right next to your ear."
She described the noise as constant, overwhelming. "You could hear them coming and going all night," she said. "It felt like they were right above us."
Despite the war, however, the salon had been busy.
It was just days before Nowruz, the Persian New Year, one of the busiest times of the year for beauty businesses.
"We had so many appointments," Mina said. "People wanted to get ready for the holidays."
The next morning, everything was gone.
'Now I am left with nothing but a pile of checks I have no idea how to pay'
- Ahmadreza, optician
"When I arrived, the whole building was destroyed," she said. "All the mirrors were shattered. Pieces of chairs and hairdryers were buried under the rubble."
She struggled to hold back tears.
"We don't know what to do now," she said. "Our boss worked so hard to keep that place running. We are now all out of work."
Mina, who specialises in nail services, had a full schedule of clients.
"Now, I don't even have a place to work," she said quietly.
Like Ahmadreza, she said there were no military facilities nearby.
Dreams reduced to ash
For others, the loss is not only financial - it is deeply personal.
Naghmeh, 29, had spent years studying fashion and textile design. Along with three friends, she had recently launched a small clothing brand.
"We were four young women trying to build something for ourselves," she said.
With international sanctions limiting imports, they saw an opportunity.
"People could no longer easily buy foreign brands," Naghmeh said. "So we decided to create our own."
Their studio, located in western Tehran, was destroyed when bombing struck their street.
"Shrapnel from an attack on another building set everything on fire," she said. "All our work, our designs, our products, everything burned."
She said she and her friends still cannot bring themselves to calculate their losses.
"We try to move forward every time life knocks us down," she added. "But then it feels like something grabs us by the throat again."
Naghmeh took a breath. "We are exhausted," she said. "Completely exhausted."
A change in strategy
Across Tehran, similar stories are becoming more common.
Many residents say that, compared to the early days of the war, more strikes are now hitting areas with no clear military presence.
They may not always understand why, but they say they can feel the difference.
Hassan, a 67-year-old restaurant owner in northern Tehran, lost a business that had been in his family for decades.
'We try to move forward every time life knocks us down. But then it feels like something grabs us by the throat again'
- Naghmeh, fashion brand owner
"My father opened this place 35 years ago," he said. "After he passed away, I kept it running."
Now, he said, there is nothing left. "It's all rubble."
Hassan believes the shift reflects a broader change in strategy.
"They expected Iran to collapse after the first attacks," he said. "Or at least that people would take to the streets and bring down the government."
He shook his head. "That never happened."
His voice then rose: "Did they really think people would protest while bombs are falling? Who would risk going outside like that?"
For Hassan, the consequences are immediate and personal.
"I have three children," he said. "How am I supposed to provide for them now?"
Fear, anger and uncertainty
As the war drags on, the mood in Tehran is increasingly defined by fear and anger.
People do not know how long the conflict will last, and many say they no longer believe it will achieve the goals declared by either side.
What worries them most, however, is how much worse things could become.
Mina said she often finds herself thinking in unexpected ways.
"Maybe I shouldn't say this," she said, "but sometimes I feel lucky that my home wasn't hit."
"At least a workplace can be replaced."
Sighing, Mina added: "I worry about my boss. I worry about everyone. But right now, the only thing I can hold on to is a small hope that this war ends soon."
For many Iranians, the war is no longer about politics or strategy. It is about survival.
Small business owners, workers and young entrepreneurs say they are being pushed to the edge - financially, emotionally and psychologically.
They don't speak of victory or defeat, but of loss.
Loss of income, of stability, of the future they thought they were building. And above all, a deepening sense that they are caught in something far bigger than themselves.
"We are stuck," Naghmeh said quietly. "We didn't choose this war. But we are the ones living through it."
This article was sourced from Middle East Eye.
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