by 
Tehran, Iran – The streets of Tehran are slowly coming back to life after a 12-day Israeli military campaign, but the scars of the conflict are evident in the city’s shattered infrastructure and shaken populace. A fragile ceasefire, announced by U.S. President Donald Trump on Tuesday, has brought cautious relief, yet fears of renewed attacks linger among residents.
In the heart of the capital, the Boof cafe, nestled within the grounds of the former U.S. embassy, serves as a microcosm of Tehran’s complex reality. Surrounded by anti-American murals from the 1979 Iranian revolution, barista Amir pours iced Americanos while expressing hope for better U.S.-Iran ties. “Sanctions hurt our businesses and make travel difficult,” he says, standing behind a sign that reads, “Keep calm and drink coffee.” The cafe’s sparse clientele—a veiled woman at one table, a couple defying dress codes at another—reflects the city’s diverse and defiant spirit amid uncertainty.
A short distance away, the wreckage of Iran’s state TV station, IRIB, stands as a grim testament to the Israeli strikes. On June 16, a missile reduced the main studio to rubble, leaving behind charred steel and ash. Israel claimed the site housed military operations, a charge IRIB journalists deny. On Thursday, Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, reportedly emerging from a bunker, addressed the nation from a surviving IRIB office, accusing the U.S. of seeking Iran’s surrender since the revolution.
The human toll is stark. At Taleghani General Hospital, head nurse Ashraf Barghi described treating injuries worse than those from the Iran-Iraq War, following a June 23 strike on Evin prison. “I’m scared they’ll attack again,” she said, echoing widespread distrust in the ceasefire. Morteza, a prison worker injured in the attack, rejected Israel’s claim of targeting only military sites, showing wounds on his arms and back. The government reports 627 deaths and nearly 5,000 injuries from the conflict.
Tehran’s daily life is resuming—traffic clogs highways, and bazaars reopen—but the trauma persists. At the Azadi Tower, a Tehran Symphony Orchestra concert drew crowds seeking solace, yet conversations revealed despair. “We can’t see any future,” wept Mina, a young woman. Ali Reza urged the government to grant “greater freedoms,” reflecting a shared yearning for change despite strict controls.
Iranian authorities have responded with arrests and executions of suspected Israeli collaborators, signaling heightened vigilance. Satellite imagery confirms severe damage to Iran’s nuclear sites, further weakening the nation. As Tehran navigates this precarious moment, its people await decisions from their leaders and global powers, bracing for an uncertain future.
