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. Yet, in a country where lives have long been buffeted by crises, it is a snapshot of a people just trying to get through the day while their future hangs on 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, big and small. 'So many people have lost their jobs and aren't working.'
And there are few customers. 'We had so many before,' his father Mustafa laments glumly as he proudly explains this business has been in their family for 40 years. One Iranian website, Asr-e Iran, recently cited an unofficial estimate that up to four million jobs may have been lost or impacted by the combined effect of the war and the government's near-total internet shutdown.
'I hope the war starts again,' Mohammad declares, breaking into a wry smile. His father eyes knowingly his 27-year-old son. 'Look at my grey hair, I understand more than him.' 'We're just tired of living with an economy which keeps getting worse,' Mustafa says. 'Some people believe that, if war returns, things will eventually improve dramatically.'
Across Tehran, elderly Shahla shares her concerns, noting that people are now paying three times more for basic necessities like bread. 'People are going through hell just to pay for bread,' she says.
As night falls, the city's culture persists in places like popular cafes bustling with customers. Yet, the reality remains stark, with the looming specter of war hanging in the balance. Freedom and stability are on many residents' minds as they navigate their complex daily lives against a backdrop of political uncertainty.
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, big and small. 'So many people have lost their jobs and aren't working.'
And there are few customers. 'We had so many before,' his father Mustafa laments glumly as he proudly explains this business has been in their family for 40 years. One Iranian website, Asr-e Iran, recently cited an unofficial estimate that up to four million jobs may have been lost or impacted by the combined effect of the war and the government's near-total internet shutdown.
'I hope the war starts again,' Mohammad declares, breaking into a wry smile. His father eyes knowingly his 27-year-old son. 'Look at my grey hair, I understand more than him.' 'We're just tired of living with an economy which keeps getting worse,' Mustafa says. 'Some people believe that, if war returns, things will eventually improve dramatically.'
Across Tehran, elderly Shahla shares her concerns, noting that people are now paying three times more for basic necessities like bread. 'People are going through hell just to pay for bread,' she says.
As night falls, the city's culture persists in places like popular cafes bustling with customers. Yet, the reality remains stark, with the looming specter of war hanging in the balance. Freedom and stability are on many residents' minds as they navigate their complex daily lives against a backdrop of political uncertainty.
