Just hours after an Israeli missile struck the outer perimeter of Tehran’s Evin Prison, small but determined groups of families have gathered near the site—some at the foot of the damaged gate, others in a nearby strip of shops—united not in protest, but in quiet defiance: we are here, and we are watching.
The missile, launched around 7:00 a.m., hit Evin’s heavily fortified main gate and outer wall. The strike appeared calibrated—not targeting the prison’s internal wards, but striking at the prison’s most visible and symbolic point of control.
While no official details have been released, multiple witnesses said they believe the strike was meant as a warning to the regime—not to harm those inside.
“I heard they called the guards and told them to leave their posts before the strike,” said one man near the scene. “I don’t know if it’s true, but if it is, it means they didn’t want blood. They just wanted to shake the walls.”
The Gate Falls — A Symbol Breaks
For decades, Evin’s main gate has stood as a boundary between families and the disappeared. It is the place where mothers were turned away, where lawyers waited without answers, where names vanished behind steel.
This morning, that gate lay scorched and torn.
“That gate has swallowed people for years,” said a young man holding a faded photo of his detained sister. “Seeing it broken—it felt like, for once, the regime looked smaller.”
Another woman, who stood with others near the front barricade, said:
“I came here because I needed to see it. Just to know it’s not invincible.”
Two Spaces, One Vigil
While some families gathered closer to the prison gates under heavy security watch, others gravitated to a nearby commercial strip—a handful of corner shops, kiosks, and benches. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t organized. It was simply where people ended up: a few meters from danger, holding hope at a distance.
“We’re not expecting the gates to open,” said one man in the crowd. “We just want them [the authorities] to know someone is out here. Watching. Waiting. So they don’t try anything stupid inside.”
Phones buzzed with rumors. Names were passed quietly between people. No one knew for sure what was happening inside—but they knew what had happened in the past.
“When they think no one’s looking, they do their worst,” said a former detainee. “This time, they should know we’re all looking.”
A Warning Without Words
So far, the regime has released no statement. No word on the condition of the prison. No update on communications from inside. Families say routine calls from inmates have stopped since early morning. Internet remains patchy in the area.
But even in the absence of official information, the message many took from this morning’s strike was clear.
“They didn’t hit the people. They hit the gate,” said a woman near the commercial strip. “They hit the symbol.”
And in return, families showed up—not to make noise, but to make sure the regime knows they are still watching.
“If they think of doing anything inside,” another woman added, “they should think again. We are here. And we are not going anywhere.”
This is a developing story. IranUnfiltered will continue to report from the ground as verified updates become available.
