In recent days and weeks, what we have heard a large number of direct firsthand accounts of the suffering endured by the people of Iran. every day, our contacts send reports of devestation. These are not hearsay or rumors. These are the real voices of families in fear: “They came into our home,” “They took my daughter,” “They arrested our relatives’ children,” “They took our friend,” “Someone got taken because of something very small.”

These are just three of these reports. All names have been changed. Pray for the people of Iran as you read their heartfelt accounts, and help us amplify their voices.

They Tried To Blind Me

The most significant fatalities of the protests so far has been on January 8 and 9 where it is believed as many as 30,000 Iranians died in a mere 48 hours. Marlin was on the streets at that time:

“On the morning of January 8, I had no peace. My daughter called from abroad crying and anxious. She made me swear I would not go out that day. I stayed home for a while, but my mind was restless. I felt like I was waiting for the announcement for our next protest. I kept walking in circles at home, asking myself: Where should I be? How should I move?

It felt as if I was getting ready to leave home for the last time.

I prayed, “Lord, make it so that I can be useful to You and to Your people.”

We were supposed to wear black. I did. And I took nothing with me that could identify me if I was detained. Even as I left home I began running, distancing myself from my address.

I wanted to go toward the north where I knew the protests were due to take place, but there was no public transport. I stopped a motorbike. The rider kindly said he could take me that way. When he dropped me off, he said, “Take care of yourself.” I replied, “I didn’t see your face.” He said, “Hope for freedom.”

From there I still had a long walk. There were only a few people heading that way but no one trusted anyone. We knew authorities had previously infiltrated crowds in plain clothes exposing people. A few times I said to the young people, “Let’s gather together,” but it would immediately fall apart. Everyone stayed cautious and alone.

When I finally got there, suddenly the crowds swelled. There was no room to breathe.

Special forces were everywhere. We were packed in. Right away I realized it wasn’t like the nights before. A little further down, I saw two young men sitting, hopeless, frightened, and tense. I asked, “What happened?” They said, “They took photos of us, beat us and told us to leave. They said tonight is not like last night.”

I moved to another nearby location and joined a group. We started chanting. They fired shots and scattered us. We regrouped. They threw tear gas. We regrouped again. The young people were furious, throwing stones, pushing forward. Sometimes I would pick up the tear gas canisters after they landed and throw them back toward them. That was the best I could do.

But when they started shooting into the crowd, there was nothing to do except run. We scattered into the alleys. It was worse there. They were shooting from the tops of buildings too. In the middle of the chaos, I heard a woman scream: “This woman’s eye has been hit!” I wiped my face: there was blood. Thankfully my eye wasn’t damaged. They had tried to blind me and missed: a pellet had hit just above my eye, and it was still lodged there.

Some of us took shelter in a large house. One of the homeowners had also been hit in the neck by pellets. It was a bad situation. They insisted I go to hospital because the pellet was still in my face. A few young men said, “We know this woman, she helped us, take her too.” Dazed, shocked, and with no choice, I got into the car.

At the hospital, what I saw was worse than I could have imagined. Everywhere was blood like a real hell. The wounded kept arriving. Some were truly dead. Many were so covered in blood that they couldn’t be recognized. I forgot myself completely.

Then I saw a very young girl who had been shot and was in a terrible condition, bent over. I shouted: “Help this child! She’s going into a coma!” Someone warned me, “Be quiet they’re filming you.” I said, “I don’t care. Just save this girl.” Thankfully, they took her into surgery and by God’s mercy, she survived. But it wasn’t only her. One after another, wounded people kept coming. No one knew whom to reach first.

I was in shock. I still can’t believe what happened that day. I don’t think those images will ever leave my mind: so many bodies, so many wounded, and that terror. And that phrase kept repeating in my head: The days of 18 and 19 Dey (8 and 9 January) were not like the days before.

Our people have suffered a great deal and there seems no end to this suffering.”

Public Bus Surrounded by Gunfire

On January 7 (17 Dey), Alina was returning home following a medical procedure. She had decided to follow Jesus and was in discipleship by our follow up team. She sent her pastor a subdued, broken voice note. She did not cry as she spoke. Her tone was faint, subdued, and with long pauses. She was still raw from her experience:

“I was on a public bus on my way back home in Shiraz. I had been out for lab tests and a general check-up. The atmosphere in the city was heavy and tense. People on the bus were distressed and anxious, speaking about the violence and the attacks.

That day, I saw scenes I can never erase from my mind.

I watched helplessly, as plainclothes forces attacked people, even shooting “finishing shots” at individuals who were unarmed and had done nothing. I felt like something inside me broke that day. I have not been the same since.

It did not take long for the bus to be surrounded. I remember one particular plainclothes officer. He was tall and extremely thin. What terrified me most was not only the weapon he carried, but his face and eyes. When I looked at him, I saw no sign of humanity or mercy—this intensified me fear. He began to fire toward the bus. The bus window shattered, and one of the women inside the bus was injured in the face. We were trapped for about 45 minutes. There was constant gunfire and we were paralyzed with fear, unable to get out.

I remember thinking to myself, “anything could happen now”. It was hard to shake the fear.

Since that day, it feels as if fear is no longer just an emotion. It’s hard to describe. It is as if my body and mind remain stuck in a constant state of danger.

Torture, Forced Confession and Mock Executions for Iran’s Protestors

WARNING: Distressing Content

After her convesion some time back, Farnaz was being discipled by our follow up team. She had also been caught up in the brutal crackdown on protestors. She called her counselor with a trembling voice and clear signs of severe anxiety. She said she believes their phone may be monitored and could be confiscated again at any moment but felt it important to share what happened despite the fact she feels more unsafe than ever. “People must know what they are doing to us!”

Farnaz’ brother Vahid was arrested during the protests on the 18th (January 8). For five days, the family had no information about him. Vahid was held by security forces and subjected to intense physical and psychological torture. He suffered serious injuries to his jaw and mouth, kidney bleeding, severe chest and abdominal pain, and constant pressure to force a coerced confession.

One of the methods his captors used was to force a metal rod into Vahid’s mouth, pushing it deep into his throat, then expand it to put extreme pressure on his jaw. The goal was to break his jaw and crush his teeth. Several of his teeth were broken and severely damaged though this harrowing experience.

But the abuse was not only physical. Psychological torture was carried out systematically. They would repeatedly call his mother in front of him and falsely tell her: “We are going to execute Vahid; come say goodbye.”

Another method used was “mock execution.” Vahid was subjected to this three times. He was placed in situations where he genuinely believed he was about to be killed. Farnaz described this as one of the most traumatic experiences for him, the effects of which have remained even after his release.

Through all this, interrogators attempted to force Vahid to confess that he was connected to foreign groups or had received money from external sources. However, Vahid repeatedly insisted that he was only a protester, not a “rioter” and had no ties to any outside organization. He kept stressing that he was protesting economic hardship and living conditions, and that he had neither taken orders nor received funding from anywhere.

Vahid was also repeatedly tortured by being immersed in ice cold water. He later confirmed that he was not the only one. Many other detainees were held under similar conditions and subjected to the same kinds of abuse.

His legal period of detention should have been two weeks but his release was delayed and the family believes this was done to allow visible signs of bruising and beating to fade.

Eventually, Vahid was released on bail, but his mobile phone, bank card, personal jewelry (including a necklace and a gold ring), and cash were taken and not returned even though they had a judge’s letter requesting the return of his belongings.

Farnaz also described injuries she sustained. She said that on a night when she was helping take Vahid’s wife and child home, she was struck with a severe blow and suffered heavy bleeding from her head and face. She was also shot with pellets multiple times and medical imaging has revealed that despite the painful process of removing several herself, multiple shotgun pellets remain in her body, including near her throat, eyebrow, and cheek. Out of fear of consequences, she does not feel safe seeking medical treatment.

Farnaz ended the call by describing the atmosphere of intimidation and fear, believing that communications are monitored and that the family is constantly at risk of renewed arrest. She urged extreme caution and asked that any messages be saved only briefly and then deleted so nothing remains on phones. Despite the fear, she spoke of the family’s faith, saying they prayed together every night during the days of detention and that they see Vahid’s release as “deliverance.”

This is the pulse of life in Iran today. For many, the deepest pain is not the detention or police intervension itself, but the fear that lingers in the home afterwards. Many say that from the moment they’ve been targeted by authorities, children are frightened, families cannot rest at night, and everyone becomes careful not to “say anything” or “have anything on their phone.” They are constantly watching over their shoulders.

Pray for Iran—use this practical prayer guide to guide you as you pray.