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Hearing exactly what is happening inside Iran is difficult. The government rarely gives visas to western journalists, and it closely monitors those who do enter the country. The internet is closely controlled by the regime. So for the past two weeks, a writer in Tehran has been sharing with NPR entries from her diary about the war. Her writings offer an intimate portrayal of her life under bombardment. NPR's Ruth Sherlock reports.
RUTH SHERLOCK, BYLINE: When U.S. and Israeli airstrikes began on Tehran, this Iranian blogger in the capital in her late 20s celebrated. Her words are read by a voice actor.
UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (Reading) People came to the roofs and watched and clapped when they hit a target we know. We chanted a lot last night.
SHERLOCK: She asks NPR not to name her because she fears this testimony opposing the Iranian regime could get her arrested. When supreme leader Ali Khamenei was killed on that first day of bombardment, she joined the chorus of people who, in widely filmed scenes, leant out of windows to shout death to the dictator.
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON: (Chanting in non-English language).
SHERLOCK: The next day, she writes how the bombs falling on Tehran feel as if they're avenging past traumas inflicted by the regime.
UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (Reading) Wow. They hit the IRGC base where I was arrested twice for not wearing a hijab. The sky is more beautiful than ever. The air smells of gunpowder and freedom.
SHERLOCK: Four friends move into her apartment, feeling safer together. Their days are spent waiting, trying to understand what is happening outside. The regime has largely cut off the internet. Iranians are having to spend large sums of money to buy illegal access through a VPN, and even then, it's patchy. Sending voice and video messages risks being found out by the government and is even more expensive. So she writes.
UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (Reading) Why on Earth should the government disconnect us like this under war conditions? Not knowing is really bad. We don't know anything. State television is either praising the government or telling false stories.
SHERLOCK: But as the airstrikes intensify, the reality of war starts hitting closer to home.
UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (Reading) The truth is, I was scared this morning when the windows were shaking. I had fallen asleep under the window. The sound of the fighter jet was so close that I felt it was about to hit our house.
SHERLOCK: She and her friends try to make a place to shelter away from the windows.
UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (Reading) The area near the entrance and backed by a concrete column and a cabinet is maybe the safest part of the house.
SHERLOCK: Outside, armed men from the government have formed checkpoints searching for enemies of the regime. And in her neighborhood, she says, government supporters are still on the lookout for dissidents. On March 8, she writes, she fears she's in danger.
UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (Reading) I might have been ratted out. My boyfriend just came back from the supermarket. The lady at the checkout who I am friends with told him a neighbor wants to call the IRGC and tell them to pick me up. She tried to defend me, saying I am young and might have just said something silly. In truth, I had said many things. One night, the neighbor had started shouting Allahu akbar, supporting the regime, and I told him to shut up or that I would shut him up. He must have identified my voice. I don't want to be arrested or killed for this.
SHERLOCK: As the war continues into its second week, the government selects Mojtaba Khamenei, the son of the killed supreme leader, to take his father's role. Her support for the war and hope it will end the regime begins to waver, especially after the destruction wrought as Israel strikes oil depots near the city.
UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (Reading) Last night, oil was raining from the sky. When I looked in the alley in the morning, the cars, the kitchen floor and even the windows were black. The poor local cat was sitting on a black car and kept licking itself, trying to get the oil out of its fur.
SHERLOCK: And the bombardments, that only two weeks ago she hoped would bring freedom, have become too much.
UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (Reading) Now I hear the sound of a fighter jet. I wish it would go away because every time it hits, my feet tremble, my ears hurt. Last night was scary. I have never experienced anything like it. I was thinking enough, enough, enough. I was screaming in my head. I felt like they might hear us and end it.
SHERLOCK: She's afraid, she says, that after the war, nothing will remain of Iran but dust. Ruth Sherlock, NPR News, Istanbul, Turkey. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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