KAPIKOY (Turkiye), March 10 — At a remote mountain pass in eastern Turkiye, travellers from Iran step across the threshold with a mix of fear, exhaustion and relief — arriving after a week marked by war, long journeys by train or car, communications blackouts and borrowed phones.
Snow-covered hills surround the Iranian side of the frontier at the Kapikoy border gate in Turkiye’s Van province, where families and lone travellers emerge, many after days on the road. Hundreds have crossed in recent days and there is now a steady flow in both directions as the US-Israeli war with Iran expands across the region.
Some say they fled because bombs were falling in their cities. Others decided to leave after losing contact with loved ones, travelling by land when flights were cancelled. Most carry only small suitcases, a phone without a local SIM card, and a determination to finish an already punishing journey.
New arrivals ask how to reach Van, the nearest city two hours away, and how to reconnect to the outside world. Some journalists hand over their phones so travellers can reassure family that they are safe. Each person has a different reason for leaving — work drying up, a sick relative to visit, or a life interrupted by conflict.
‘People are waiting’
Ebrahim Eidi, 61, had recently been in Tehran and said many Iranians were waiting to see whether the government was weakened enough for protests to erupt. He said some believed opposition figure Reza Pahlavi — the son of Iran’s last shah — could become a rallying point if large demonstrations begin.
“People are waiting for something to happen, for some change. They want the government to change completely, and many people say they are waiting for Reza Pahlavi.”
Eidi left Iran 34 years ago for the Netherlands, where he works with asylum seekers and refugees in camps. He returns to Iran roughly once a year. This time, he said, the situation felt different.
He said many people chose to stay in Iran because they still had hope for the country. But they feared their own power was not enough to change the government, and that the situation could spiral.
“People are afraid to go to the streets. They are not afraid of America. Unfortunately, they are afraid of their own government.”
Leila, 45, was travelling in the opposite direction, heading back into Iran. After losing contact with her family in Shiraz, she decided to return from Istanbul, where she occasionally assists academics working with a German historical research institution.
“How can I be safe when I feel my family maybe they are in danger?”
One of her brothers is seriously ill and in a coma, increasing her worry. For her, being physically with her family - even in danger - felt more bearable than waiting abroad.
She plans to remain in Iran until the war is over.
“I cannot guard them against bombs. But when I feel I can be with them together, maybe we die together, or I can help them as long as we are alive.”
‘The bombs started falling’
Hamid Shirmohammadzadeh, 35, had travelled back to Iran shortly before the war and fled with his wife and children when Tehran came under attack. He had been building a life in Tokyo, working for an import-export firm, but returned to Iran after his visa lapsed. His wife and two children had remained there.
“The day before the war started I was in Tehran… Then the bombs started falling. We saw the war had begun, so we came to Turkiye.”
His wife, son and daughter — aged 9 and 10 — are waiting near the border as he seeks help from Japanese authorities to secure visas for them.
“I worked in Japan, paid my taxes and followed the rules. I don’t understand why they are not helping me now.”
“In times like this we should help each other. I need help now because my country is at war.”
Mohammad Soltanzadeh, who lives in Hamburg and is originally from Afghanistan, had been visiting relatives in Iran’s Mashhad when flights were cancelled, forcing him onto the road.
“The journey was very exhausting. We were on the train for about 24 hours, then we travelled four hours by car and finally came by taxi.”
He described Mashhad as calm despite the wider turmoil.
“People were a bit saddened and mourning but they were not stressed. The shops were open, the markets and shopping centres were open and people were continuing their activities. Life was going on.”
Egyptian factory worker Mohammad Fauzi, 46, crossed from Iran with no Turkish SIM card, no local currency and no knowledge of the language. He only had the phone numbers of two Egyptian friends in Ankara and Izmir - and a plan to reach Cairo.
He had watched work grind to a halt in Iran during his three months there working in the marble and granite sector, with many factories closing.
“The situation is very difficult and working has stopped. I can’t work, I can’t stay because the situation is dangerous now, so I want to go to my home, my country.”
‘If there is peace, I will return’
Jalileh Jabari, 63, said she fled Tehran because “bombs are falling” and the situation had become unbearable. The highways to the border were calm, but uncertainty in the capital pushed her to leave. She was travelling to Istanbul, where her daughter studies.
“If things become good there, if Iran becomes good, I will come back. If there is peace, I will return.”
Two sisters, Shaylin, 9, and Celine Azizour, 11, crossed into Turkiye with their mother, travelling from Tehran toward Istanbul with hopes of eventually reaching London.
“We from Tehran,” Shaylin said. Asked about conditions there, she replied: “It’s not so good.” Despite the arduous journey, she smiled: “I’m so happy.”
Yasna, 63, crossed over from Iran with her husband and one of her daughters, travelling to Antalya on Turkiye’s southern coast to visit another daughter who lives there with her family.
“I came to see my daughter — I haven’t seen her for six years. She has children there and I have two grandchildren.”
She said she preferred not to comment on Iran’s political situation.
“I don’t know what to say about the situation in Iran because we will be back to Iran.” — Reuters
