"I'm not great at math, but where will the money, the resources, and the experts come from to rebuild a country that ordinary people spent decades trying to build?"
This is the question haunting Sara, a 34-year-old public relations manager in Tehran .
For Iranians , the war, along with the severe shortages and hardships it has unleashed, was already a profound tragedy that had infiltrated every aspect of daily life. But the sudden threat of the "complete destruction" of their civilisation has triggered an unprecedented wave of terror and despair.
As the deadline approached, Tehran transformed into a city paralysed by an eerie silence and pervasive anxiety. Caught between fleeting hopes of a last-minute diplomatic breakthrough and the dread of escalated conflict, the usually bustling capital ground to a halt. Streets were largely deserted, and traffic was uncharacteristically light.
Yet the stillness was sharply interrupted around petrol stations, where endless lines of cars snaked down the avenues, drivers desperate to fill their tanks in the hope of fleeing before everything collapsed. Occasionally, the sudden boom of air defence systems shattered the quiet, deepening the palpable dread. In any passing interaction between citizens, one question inevitably surfaced: "What do you think will happen tonight?"
On Tuesday, US President Donald Trump took to his Truth Social platform to issue a stark ultimatum. "A whole civilization will die tonight, never to be brought back again," he wrote, before adding that with "Complete and Total Regime Change," perhaps "something revolutionarily wonderful can happen, WHO KNOWS?" Trump set a deadline of 3:30 a.m. Tehran time on Wednesday for negotiations to conclude. Failing an agreement, he said, Iran's critical infrastructure, including power plants and bridges— would be targeted.
Under international humanitarian law, such strikes are explicitly prohibited. UN Security Council Resolution 2573 condemns attacks on civilians and civilian infrastructure vital to the survival of the population. On the ground in Iran, that legal framework offers little comfort.
In a desperate bid to deter the strikes, a unique initiative emerged: citizens gathering at major utility sites to act as human shields. The movement was initially sparked by prominent artists, among them renowned musician Ali Ghamsari, who carried his taar to the Damavand power plant in a symbolic act of defiance. The Iranian Ministry of Sports and Youth quickly adopted the idea, launching an official campaign to form human chains around critical infrastructure.
Explaining his decision, Ghamsari wrote: "I have always been an independent artist, standing with the people and protesting against injustices. Throughout my life, I have faced a long list of work and travel bans, as well as restrictions due to my stances, particularly during the 2022 protests. In January, I loudly proclaimed my mourning for the loved ones who were killed. However, my rebellious spirit cannot impede my patriotism."
While prominent figures, including singer Ali Zand Vakili and some citizens, welcomed the campaign, others greeted it with fierce scepticism.
For Sara, the disillusionment is palpable. An independent woman who was active in student politics in the 2010s and was arrested during the Women, Life, Freedom protests, she recalls the arguments that circulated just weeks ago, in the aftermath of the January protests that left thousands dead or wounded.
"When arguments broke out at work, among relatives, or at the gym, many pro-war voices argued that things couldn't possibly get any worse," she says. "They thought foreign intervention could change everything overnight. Many media outlets promoted this mindset, talking about 'humanitarian bombs'."
The reality has been starkly different. "From the beginning of the war until today, we have been bombarded. Not only are we not one step closer to freedom, from what I can see, we are miles away from it. Many of those who supported this idea have now fallen silent, especially those who claimed, 'We won't become another Iraq or Afghanistan'." This story was published in collaboration with Egab .