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Ali Akbar moved to Tehran in search of work three years ago from Izeh, a small city in Iran’s southwestern province of Khuzestan. Jobs were scarce back home, he said, and an acquaintance had told him about a furniture workshop in the capital that needed a manual labourer. The work was difficult and the pay low, but anything was preferable to unemployment.
In January 2025, a severe rash emerged on his face. “It got so bad I could not focus. Gradually, the skin on my face turned redder and redder,” he told The New Humanitarian. The symptoms became so unbearable that he had to stop working for several days. Ultimately, a specialist diagnosed him with severe allergies to pollen, trees, and weeds. The only viable treatment was long-term immunotherapy requiring three injections per week, each costing 3 million rials -- a sum of roughly $210 a week.
Despite the financial strain, Akbar managed to continue treatment for several months, even during the economic disruptions caused by the 12-day war between Iran and Israel in June. But beginning in late November, his situation and that of millions of Iranians changed dramatically.
The warning signs had been building for months.
After UN “snapback” sanctions were reimposed and the EU tightened measures in late 2025, the rial’s long‑running weakness deepened, with the dollar reaching 1.4-1.5 million rials on the open market by early 2026, from about 600,000. Over approximately a year, the currency lost more than half its value against the dollar, a plunge driven not only by sanctions but also by domestic economic policy.
Then, in early December, President Masoud Pezeshkian’s administration decided to eliminate the preferential exchange rate of 285,000 rials for imports of essential goods like oilseeds, livestock feed, and fertilisers. Hamstrung by strict sanctions and lacking access to hard currency, the government announced it would instead provide a monthly electronic coupon worth 10 million rials to approximately 80 million Iranians.
The consequences were immediate and catastrophic.
According to data from the Statistical Center of Iran, average prices for goods and services rose by 7.9% in Dey (late December to late January) compared to the previous month. This was the second-highest monthly inflation rate recorded in at least a decade. Point-to-point inflation surged by 60% from Dey 1403 to Dey 1404 (2024-2025), the highest rate ever announced since the Statistical Center began publishing these figures.
Food prices led the surge. Within a single month, prices for dairy and eggs rose by more than 19%, meat and poultry by nearly 20%, and oils and fats by upwards of 50%. Overall, food inflation in Dey was 13.8% higher than the previous month and a staggering 89.9% higher than the previous year.
Vegetable oil prices all but tripled almost overnight. Meat, chicken, eggs, and pasta also saw sharp increases.
“Chicken and meat have become like a dream”
“I left my wife and children in the village with my in-laws and came to Tehran to work, but now I can neither send them enough money nor sustain myself,” said Abdollah, a construction worker who spends his days standing on a busy street corner in eastern Tehran, waiting for employers to hire day labourers. Abdollah asked to only be identified by his first name due to ongoing government crackdowns.
We used to fill our stomachs with a 150,000-toman crate of eggs, but now it costs 500,000 tomans. That means we can’t even eat eggs anymore.”
He told The New Humanitarian he is 42, but his weathered face and deep-set wrinkles made him appear closer to 55 or 60. He now waits for work in a spot that was mostly dominated by Afghan migrant labourers willing to settle for meagre pay for an exhausting job.
“Do you know the price of a crate of eggs now?” Abdollah asked. “We used to fill our stomachs with a 150,000-toman crate of eggs, but now it costs 500,000 tomans. That means we can’t even eat eggs anymore.”
“Chicken and meat have become like a dream,” he continued. “How can I buy chicken at 278,000 tomans per kilo? And now, all work has completely stalled; there is nothing to do.”
Another visible symptom of poverty and lack of access to food is the number of child labourers gathering at intersections and outside shopping centres, begging passersby to buy basic groceries for their families.
“Uncle, I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten since morning, could you buy me something from the supermarket?” asked Abolfazl, a small boy, roughly 8 years old, his face blackened by the city’s smog and exhaust fumes. He explained that without the charity of strangers, his family cannot afford to buy anything.
Treatment becomes unaffordable
Healthcare costs rose in parallel with foodstuffs. For many workers, purchasing medication or continuing treatment became impossible.
Akbar said that between early December and late January, the price of each vaccine dose increased twice – first from 3 million rials to 5 million rials, then to 8 million rials.
“I finally decided to stop treatment,” he said. “With a monthly income of about 20 million tomans (roughly $142), paying 800,000 tomans, or about $5.70, for a single injection is simply not feasible.”
Despite physically deteriorating, Akbar has had no choice but to soldier on.
Shahram, 39, a shop assistant who travelled to Tehran for medical treatment, faces similar choices. “I am suffering from leukaemia,” he told The New Humanitarian, also only giving his first name for security reasons. “The illness has made it impossible for me to continue working, so my life revolves entirely around treatment.”
He relies on insurance payments and financial support from his parents, who live in a rural area in northern Iran and sold inherited land to pay for his care. “Now they want to sell their house and buy a smaller one so they can continue paying for my treatment,” Shahram said. “I am deeply uncomfortable with that. They are spending their only assets on a treatment that may not even work.”
Without his parents’ help, “we cannot even afford food”, he said.
From the bazaar to the streets
Commentators at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace and other think tanks say this deteriorating macroeconomic picture – sanctions-driven drops in oil revenue, chronic inflation of around 40%, power and water shortages, and visible government mismanagement – led to a collapse in public confidence among Iranians, who can no longer afford to live.
In the final days of December, that collapse erupted into action. Protests began with shopkeepers and merchants in Iran’s bazaars – the traditional commercial heart of Iranian cities – who were angered by worsening economic conditions, price rises, and currency devaluation.
The demonstrations quickly spread, drawing in other social groups and evolving into broad-based nationwide protests against the government. The currency-inflation spiral had hit food and basic goods especially hard, and merchants who could no longer sustain their businesses became the first to openly challenge the state.
Accounts vary regarding the number of casualties, but all sources agree that thousands of Iranian citizens were killed during the violent suppression of the protests.
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A defining characteristic of the recent unrest has been the intensified rage of the protesters and a marked escalation in violence directed at security and law enforcement personnel. Ebrahim Azizi, chairman of the Iranian Parliament’s National Security and Foreign Policy Commission, stated in an interview that more than 3,709 law enforcement officers were injured during the protests in January.
According to Azizi, over 2,221 vehicles and motorcycles belonging to the police and the Basij paramilitary force were destroyed. Additionally, 250 schools, 90 religious seminaries, and 300 mosques sustained damage during the unrest.
However, in the remarks published by state media, Azizi made no mention of the thousands of protesters who have fallen victim to the Islamic Republic’s crackdown.
As demonstrations spread, authorities imposed a nationwide internet blackout on 8 January. As of January 20, large segments of the population remained without internet access. The shutdown has dealt a severe blow to Iran’s already fragile economy, with digital businesses losing an estimated 3.8 trillion tomans (approximately $27 million) per day, according to Reza Alfatnasab, head of Iran’s Union of Online Businesses.
The convergence of renewed sanctions, subsidy elimination, and the 12-day war with Israel created conditions that policy analysts had warned were unsustainable.
When the currency fell to record lows and inflation made daily survival unaffordable, the breaking point came not from political activists but from merchants and shopkeepers whose livelihoods had evaporated, and workers like Abdollah who could no longer afford eggs.
Akbar, still dealing with his untreated allergies, represents millions of Iranians caught between economic collapse and a government unable or unwilling to provide relief.
“At first, I was relieved that my illness was treatable and that I could recover after a long course of therapy,” he said. “But now I honestly do not want to continue treatment anymore, because I simply cannot afford it.”
This piece was published in collaboration with Egab. Edited by Dahlia Kholaif and Ali M. Latifi.
