Iran: voices from the ground

28 March 2026

At 1am, the sound of planes flying overhead wakes me up, followed immediately by explosions that feel so close. An SMS pings on my phone. It is from my security colleague with the message to “please shelter”. I wonder if he ever sleeps at all.

I jump out of bed and start looking for my jumper and shoes so I can go down to the basement of the building to shelter. Then I realise that I don’t want to go. It might be safer there than on the 5th floor where I am now, but it is cold and I am not looking forward to spending the next few hours there. I decide to go back to bed and “hide” under the blankets while listening to the sounds of the bombs falling until it goes quiet.

I am worried about my colleagues and their families. Some live so close to the locations under attack and they have been telling me that the sounds are becoming too much. I get another SMS an hour later to say that it is now safe and I go back to sleep. Another round of bombing wakes me up at 3am, but I barely register and sleep through it until the morning.

That morning, I receive a text confirming that, following the daily headcount, all staff are safe. I feel relieved. We survived another night and I begin planning the priorities for returning to work the next day so that we can continue to deliver critical assistance.

– Martje van Raamsdonk, NRC Country Director in Iran

27 March 2026

An Iranian friend calls me in the morning, and the conversation starts with enquiring if we are okay and still safe. I realise that the war is normality now and peace is not. We go for a coffee in one of the cafés close by. Despite all this doom and gloom, Iranians are still living. We are living in a surreal balance between war and everyday life.

Early afternoon, I manage to get online briefly, and several messages come in. Glancing through, I discover that the interview I had done earlier in the week on the situation in Iran had gone live. I am grateful for the support of my family back home, and I know the images and messaging are not easy for them to comprehend. My colleagues thank me for being their voice, which makes it all worth doing.

I only have few more minutes of internet and decide not to watch the interview but instead treat myself to downloading a movie to watch later. I settle on “War Machine” as I already have seen “No Time To Die”. Maybe you think I should watch something that would calm me down or cheer me up, but I see no point. I am living war now and might as well stay on the topic.

Tonight, I will sleep with the window open. All sorts of sounds are keeping me awake, but when I peek outside, the neighbourhood is quiet. The sounds are all in my head. It starts to rain. Listening to its rhythm gives me peace, and I fall asleep.

– Martje van Raamsdonk, NRC Country Director in Iran 

24 March 2026

People are mainly dealing with uncertainty. They are worried about their businesses, and wondering how long the situation will continue.

Tomorrow will be the first working day after Nowruz, however people usually take time off until Nature’s Day, on 2 April.

In each neighbourhood you can see at least one destroyed building with the surroundings affected. 

My colleagues have mostly gone to their hometowns to celebrate Nowruz with their families. But even when you leave, you are worried about the things you leave behind.

When you pass by houses in streets, you see many houses have taped their windows, so explosions don’t shatter the windows – or if they do shatter, they don’t fall on people.

Some people who left the city in the early days of war have returned, since they don’t know how long this situation will last. 

Attacks at night continue, sometimes at three different times of night. Two nights ago, attacks in Tehran happened at 1am, 3am and 5am, and people in different parts of the city heard them all.

– Anonymous

23 March 2026

Martje van Raamsdonk is NRC’s Country Director in Iran. She reports from Tehran, where the war rages on and attacks continue day and night. A few days after Nowruz (Persian New Year), she tells us how this special time, usually full of celebrations, has been for the people of Iran.

16 March 2026

Today is the 17th day of war in cold and cloudy Tehran. This time of the year is usually festive and busy as we celebrate Nowruz and the end of Ramadan, but that’s not the case this year.

Tehran, always busy with its crowded streets and huge traffic, is now calm and empty, awaiting the sounds of drones, missiles, and explosions. 

Every three to four hours, there’s a loud noise – a bang. Right after that, the first thing we do is text our loved ones in the different neighbourhoods of Tehran, and other cities if we hear any news, to make sure they’re still okay. The attacks usually come without prior warning. Some nights the explosions are so intense that the sky feels like daytime. There are nights when finding sleep is impossible. 

In the towns people have mostly stayed at home, while many have left Tehran. But even small cities are under attack. The roads were all packed the day the attacks started, but now with all the uncertainty, no-one’s sure what their next move should be.

Hospitals, schools and local shops are damaged or destroyed after each attack. Yet, even in this situation, people try to help each other.”

– Anonymous