I live in Tehran, and everything is expensive. The cost of living here is completely out of control. Since the war last summer, prices for basic goods and services have jumped by 40% or 50%. There is no real price oversight anymore. Inflation is raging.
For young, single people who live alone or with roommates, it affects every part of life. I cannot even imagine what it is like for parents who have to support children on the same salary that now buys far less. Every day is about cutting back. You buy only the food you absolutely need. You look for cheaper, worse apartments or rooms. You unplug everything that uses electricity. You shower less. An entire population is living in poverty.
Among young people, we have created an informal cooperative. If I am going somewhere, I ask if anyone else needs a ride or needs something brought back. We share clothes. We do laundry together. We reuse baking paper. Apart from trash bags, there are almost no disposable products anymore. Haircuts are done by friends. There is even a health angle: people smoke much less. Every cigarette is a budget decision.
We still go out into the streets, but we do not open our wallets to buy food or drinks. Those are luxuries we cannot afford, especially because of the uncertainty. We do not know how long this will last or how bad it will get. I would say we are saving, but I laugh even saying that. There is nothing to save. It sounded humiliating at first. We are past that. We are in survival mode.
For young people, life has stopped. We cannot even think about buying a home. We are trying to survive and are locked in a struggle with the authorities, so family life feels impossible. You cannot think about personal or social plans when your daily choice is whether to eat eggs or meat, because both together are too expensive. And that was before winter, when energy costs rose by nearly 50% compared with last year.
More and more middle-class families are slipping. They look at the system and see no answer. When you cut back on food, when you tell your child you will not go to the doctor because the illness is not serious enough yet, it creates despair, humiliation and total hopelessness. That is why more people are going into the streets.
On one hand, it scares the authorities. On the other, they have no real solution except surrendering to Western sanctions. We feel they would rather collapse than concede. But we want to live.
People our age in the West take loans to buy homes, pay for education or buy cars. Here, we pay in installments and go into future debt just to buy rice or bread.
We want reforms, more democracy, less corruption and inequality. But the authorities will not allow it. They continue to subsidize failing factories and businesses. Sanctions cannot continue forever, and oil revenues are shrinking. The government talks about raising taxes, but there is nothing left to take. That, too, would inflame the streets.
More than 30 million Iranians — about a third of the population — live below the poverty line, and the number keeps growing. Those who have fallen from the middle class are cutting back. Those who were already poor are now facing food insecurity.
I have friends who are teachers. They tell me more and more students come to class with empty backpacks — no notebooks, no pencils, no food. This followed a 50% rise in public transportation and school transport costs. Parents face an impossible choice: buy school supplies or make sure their child does not go to bed hungry. At the same time, the government runs campaigns encouraging higher birth rates.
Talent is leaving the country as soon as it can. Teachers earn about $150 a month, roughly the minimum wage. In Tehran, monthly living costs are about three times that. Many leave for Gulf countries, where Iranian teachers are in demand. Those who replace them are often less qualified, and education standards fall.
Prices have surged at a pace that normally takes decades. A liter of milk rose from 180,000 rials to 230,000 before the war, then jumped to 390,000 after it. Eggs, chicken, dairy — everything followed.
The old slogans about foreign enemies no longer work. The war shattered the illusion that the system can protect people. Those who once lived normal lives — vacations, movies, restaurants, ice cream — can no longer afford those things. These are protests of empty stomachs.
Official unemployment is around 7% or 8%, but it is about 25% among young people and roughly 35% among young women. One in three young women has no job. Many who do work juggle two jobs just to survive. They call themselves “the generation of empty pockets.”
Even animals pay the price. You see more abandoned pets on the streets. People who once had homes for them can no longer afford food or care.
There is a mix of despair, anger and a total lack of hope. Many young people talk about death as an escape from reality. They no longer respond to calls to rally against outside enemies.
This generation grew up with the protests that followed the killing of Mahsa Amini in 2022. They have courage, awareness and access to the internet. They see how people live elsewhere. You can see it in how they organize protests, how they protect themselves from tear gas. Dozens have been killed. We believe most were between 15 and 24.
I follow their slogans closely. They start in private chats, move to social media and then spill into the streets. First it was, “I am ready to be next, if I am the last.” Then, “If I do not protest, what am I supposed to do with my life?” Now my favorite, because of its simplicity: “We just want normality.”
Prepared for publication by Ze'ev Avrahami