The rooms of Tehran’s Honiak Academy of Music once echoed with Persian classical music. It’s the skillful plucking of the setar and the ringing of the santoor.
It was the pride and joy of Hamidreza Affaride, an Iranian musician who opened the school with his wife Sheyda Ebadatdoost two years ago. They poured their heart and money into creating a heavenly space for 250 students, ranging in age from toddlers to senior citizens.
Now that’s all “wiped away,” he says.
On March 23, an Israeli airstrike hit the building housing the music school, along with several other businesses, including a maternity clinic. The building was located east of the Iranian capital and within 2 kilometers (1.3 miles) of a military air base.
There was no one in the music center at the time. Afarideh and Ebadat-Doust closed their school to protect students and staff from relentless shelling shortly after the United States and Israel launched a joint attack on Iran.
But for a couple who have dedicated their lives to sharing the joy of music, the destruction cuts deep. And it reflects the devastating effects of war on civilian populations, far beyond the alarming numbers of deaths that rise daily, including the loss of normalcy, security, means of livelihood, and passion.
“All the property and assets that my spouse and I had spent 15 years of hard work building were destroyed overnight. It was completely gone, there was nothing left,” Affaride said.
The first sign of trouble came when the music school’s alarm system started going off just after dawn.
Afarideh and Ebadatdoost, who is also a musician, rushed to the scene because they thought someone was trying to break in. As they got closer, they realized it was much worse.
“You could see very thick smoke and fog in the sky,” he said. “It was so crowded that I couldn’t see in front of me and couldn’t even drive straight to the lab.”
They waited agonizingly outside for hours until Iranian authorities completed search and rescue operations and let them inside. Their school was on the fourth floor of the building, he said, and “the level of destruction was so severe as you went up that floor that the stairs were collapsing as you went up.”
When they finally reached the unit, they found ruins. The attack blew out the school’s windows and caused the exterior walls to collapse. Inside, everything they loved was reduced to ashes and rubble.
“There were no instruments left,” he said. “None of the equipment we had remained, including televisions, audio systems, and other facilities that a professional institution should have. All the walls that had professional soundproofing were completely destroyed.”
Photos and videos of the aftermath show some hints of what was once there, including a broken lute’s wooden body and a broken guitar neck. But in most cases, he said, “the force of the drone explosion was so strong that it was as if none of these items had ever existed.”
That day, Tehran was hit by airstrikes, just as it had been in the weeks since the start of the United States and Israel’s joint war with Iran. By evening, the Israeli military announced that “massive” airstrikes in Tehran targeted public and military infrastructure, including weapons manufacturing sites and security headquarters.
But this wasn’t the only damage, as another home was attacked in the north of the city, with a young child trapped inside until he was rescued several hours later.
When asked for comment, the Israel Defense Forces confirmed that it had “conducted an attack targeting the Quds Force intelligence headquarters near a designated location.”
It added that the IDF attack was in accordance with international law and that “the expected military benefits of the attack were assessed to be significant and outweigh the expected collateral damage, including to nearby structures.”
U.S. Central Command told CNN it had no information to provide on the matter.
Affaride and Ebadat-Doust are now grappling with how to move forward: how to rebuild the institute, where to find funding and how to support staff and students in the midst of war.
“For many of them, this place was like a second home,” he says. “It gave them a strong sense of safety and security. Because my wife and I were working together, the environment had a family-like atmosphere, which was very appealing to them.”
Now, he added, students are distraught “because those spaces no longer exist for them.”
The school also employed about 24 teachers and administrative staff, many of them young graduates in their 20s who currently had no income, at a time when the country’s already struggling economy was being further damaged by the war.
The building’s structure has been severely damaged, and the music school will likely need to be moved to a new location. However, it is unclear whether they can afford to start from scratch, especially given rising prices due to high inflation.
In total, he estimates he lost nearly $42,000 in property damage and destruction. According to the World Bank, Iran’s per capita GDP in 2024 will be around $5,120 per year, which is a huge amount.
They are currently seeking support from other Iranian musical organizations and the government’s Ministry of Culture.
But with the war now in its second month, it could be a long time before help arrives. The United States and Iran continue to hold indirect negotiations, but both sides are sending conflicting messages about the status of the negotiations. Meanwhile, people on the ground suffer as leaders issue threats to each other and call for airstrikes.
“Countries like Iran have thousands of years of culture and art, and a strong identity tied to music,” Affarideh said. “If this identity is meant to be passed on to future generations through our students and us, it must be supported.”
