Iran’s capital is grappling with renewed electricity outages but growing evidence suggests the burden of power cuts is falling unevenly across the city, raising concerns over social equity and institutional bias in blackout management.
According to reports from Iranian media and residents, working-class neighborhoods in southern and western Tehran are experiencing up to four hours of daily blackouts, while more affluent districts in the north remain largely unaffected.
This disparity, once a topic of speculation among citizens, has now been corroborated by the reformist leaning Ham-Mihan newspaper, and acknowledged in comments by both energy officials and lawmakers.
A recent field investigation by Ham-Mihan found that nearly 75% of documented blackouts in Tehran province during the first two months of the Iranian calendar year (started March 20) occurred in lower-income areas. In contrast, power remained uninterrupted in wealthier northern districts, even during periods of peak demand.
While Tehran Electricity Distribution Company had released a blackout schedule for spring, residents across marginalized neighborhoods say cuts have been occurring unpredictably and far more frequently than indicated.
“We have power outages twice a day — sometimes lasting up to two hours each,” a resident of Islamshahr, a southern suburb, wrote online. Meanwhile, a resident in District 2, in northern Tehran, reported no outages since the start of the blackout cycle.
The discrepancies have sparked a wave of criticism on social media and from public figures.
Hossein Selahvarzi, a prominent economist and former head of Iran’s Chamber of Commerce, wrote: “If it is true that outages in the south of Tehran are more frequent than in the north, then our problem is not only energy imbalance — it is also a failure of social justice.”
In comments to Ham-Mihan, a senior official from Tehran’s regional power grid admitted the blackout pattern is not accidental. “To maintain network stability, we concentrate outages in outlying districts,” the unnamed source said.
“Blackouts in central or northern Tehran have political and media consequences that we try to avoid.”
The issue of unequal energy access is not confined to Tehran.
Hussein Haghverdi, a member of parliament representing the towns of Malard, Shahriar, and Qods in Tehran province, has publicly accused the Ministry of Energy of discriminatory energy allocation.
In a letter to Energy Minister Abbas Aliabadi, Haghverdi said that while the capital’s industrial zones faced a 50-megawatt blackout quota, neighboring residential and industrial towns were subjected to four times that amount.
“This vast disparity is unacceptable and has caused widespread dissatisfaction,” he wrote.
With temperatures rising and demand for cooling surging — particularly through water-intensive swamp coolers — Tehran’s daily water usage has already exceeded 3.1 million cubic meters.
Iran’s hydroelectric capacity — once a key component of the energy mix — has been severely curtailed by a historic drought.
Officials have warned that continued overconsumption could lead to even harsher cuts, with punitive 12-hour blackouts possible for chronic overusers.
But critics argue that the current approach to energy rationing lacks transparency and reinforces systemic inequalities.
“You can’t ask citizens to sacrifice while shielding elite districts from the consequences,” said an environmental policy expert in Tehran who requested anonymity. “This is not just a technical failure — it’s a governance issue.”
With no immediate relief in sight, the government is under mounting pressure to ensure that conservation efforts — and their consequences — are distributed fairly.
As one Ham-Mihan editorial put it: “The blackout map is becoming a social map — and it is illuminating more than just who has electricity.”
The updated legislation, signed into effect on Tuesday by President Masoud Pezeshkian, imposes harsher sentences for unlicensed gun possession and criminalizes the use of digital platforms to promote or sell weapons.
But Telegram remains awash in posts advertising weapons for prices between 200 million and 1.8 billion rials—roughly $240 to $2,200 at the current exchange rate of 820,000 rials per US dollar.
In one 17,000-member channel, a vendor offered a Glock 17 pistol for 280 million rials ($340), a Makarov for 240 million ($290), and a Turkish-made Colt .45 for 360 million ($440). For higher-end buyers, a Kalashnikov was listed at 1.7 billion rials ($2,070), including a video showing it wrapped in cloth beside two full magazines.
“Payment is in Tether,” said one seller when contacted anonymously via Telegram, referring to a cryptocurrency. “Once confirmed, you’ll receive a location—usually a locker in a shopping mall. You have two hours to retrieve it.”
Posing as a buyer we messaged five sellers across different channels. All insisted on cryptocurrency, none offered verification and two responded with identical language and price lists—raising doubts about authenticity.
But sources in Tehran familiar with the illicit trade said the market is not entirely fake. “There are scams, yes,” one source said. “But there are many real vendors. People share experiences, and some of these sellers have been delivering for years.”
Iran’s newly amended firearms law significantly broadens the scope of punishable offenses. Beyond illegal possession, it targets sellers, repairers and those who promote or advertise firearms online.
Penalties range from three to fifteen years in prison depending on the type of weapon, with automatic firearms, heavy arms, and military-grade munitions drawing the harshest sentences.
A clause in the law also authorizes authorities to seize properties, vehicles, or storage facilities used in connection with arms crimes.
According to the text, any digital promotion, sale, or training activity linked to firearms is subject to prosecution.
The law also tightens control over airguns, mandating that those in possession of PCP rifles over 40 joules must surrender them within three months or face penalties equivalent to those for illegal hunting rifles. Owners of PCPs under the threshold must apply for a license.
Still, on Telegram, enforcement appears limited. Sellers openly post weapons and use emojis of guns, bombs, and fire to attract attention.
Sources say these weapons are often smuggled in from Turkey, Iraq, or via the Persian Gulf and may be resold multiple times through local intermediaries. “The dealers who actually deliver have networks,” said a source in Tehran. “They use trusted people. Some even have police protection.”
Iran’s black market extends far beyond guns. Unlicensed alcohol, sex work under the guise of massage services, and a growing narcotics scene—from cocaine to synthetic pills—share the same digital infrastructure, relying on anonymity, encrypted platforms, and rapid logistics.
While authorities promise firm implementation of the new law, Telegram channels remain easy to find and quick to rebrand. For buyers, the market is a gamble. But according to those familiar with Tehran’s illicit economy, enough vendors deliver to keep demand alive.