A high-rise apartment in the Seef district of Manama, Bahrain is seen gutted by fire in early March 2026, left, and after restoration, right. A billboard installed at the building’s base during repairs reads: “Bahrain is well.” (Shannon Renfroe/Stars and Stripes)
Editor’s note: Stars and Stripes reporter Shannon Renfroe was living in Bahrain when the U.S.-Iran war began and was among thousands of Americans evacuated from the island. She returned earlier this month and wrote this first-person account of what she found.
MANAMA, Bahrain — The heat hits you in the face the moment you step out of the airport doors. That part felt familiar when I returned to Bahrain eight weeks after fleeing what had in some ways felt like a war zone. But almost everything else felt slightly off.
The skies above may be clear again, but people here still watch them closely — the result of Iranian drone and missile attacks that shattered nerves in this tiny island kingdom at the outset of the U.S.-Iran war.
A passing motorcycle raises everyone’s head, its engine thrumming with the same low buzz as Iranian drones. A bird flying across the horizon gets the same reaction, a reminder of distant drones that were often little more than black flashes against the sky before they struck.
I was one of thousands of Americans evacuated from Bahrain during the early days of the war. At the time, I was living in Seef, northwest of downtown Manama. Days before leaving, my apartment building was struck in the middle of the night, possibly by debris from a drone shoot-down, causing minor damage.
Once the evacuation order came, I had 45 minutes to pack. I left for Germany with only two bags.
Back in Bahrain now, many visible signs of the war have disappeared, even if some of the unease it caused has not.
In Seef, the Millennium Tower — where a drone strike killed a Bahraini woman on March 9 — sports newly replaced reflective glass panels.
Nearby Breaker Tower, a high-rise apartment building gutted by fire after being struck by a drone during the war’s first week, stands partially restored. Its scorch marks have been painted over and shattered windows covered. A banner at street level declares “Bahrain is well.”
Public discussion of the war remains guarded. Bahraini authorities threatened prison sentences of up to 10 years for filming the Iranian attacks or spreading information that may “cause panic or undermine military preparedness.” Many remain cautious about what they say publicly.
But for me, the strangest part isn’t what was destroyed. It’s who hasn’t come back.
Before the war, roughly 8,300 Americans lived near Naval Support Activity Bahrain, headquarters of the U.S. Navy’s 5th Fleet, including sailors, civilian defense employees, contractors and military families. It was one of the few posts in the region where families were allowed.
During the war, Iranian strikes and falling debris caused extensive damage around the base and nearby residential areas, which house many American personnel and their families.
As the Iranian attacks intensified, thousands of Americans were evacuated to Europe and the United States.
Stars and Stripes has previously reported on evacuees’ frustration with the rushed departure, along with the lingering mental-health strain and uncertainty about when — or whether — they will return.
The Pentagon has said it intends to bring families and other personnel back as soon as possible, but it is unclear how families can safely return while the threat of war still feels so close.
Earlier this month, U.S. personnel at NSA Bahrain received two shelter-in-place advisories, according to alerts reviewed by Stars and Stripes, weeks after the U.S. Embassy lifted a wartime advisory April 9 that for over a month had advised all Americans to take shelter or depart the island by overland routes.
The base evacuation in March appears to have shaped how at least some here view the American military presence.
According to State Department cables cited by Politico, some Bahrainis viewed the United States as abandoning Bahrain, while some pro-Iran social media accounts argued the American military presence had turned the kingdom into a target.
One resident of Manama said reactions to the war and its aftermath have varied sharply across the kingdom’s complicated social landscape, made up of Sunni and Shiite Bahrainis alongside large expatriate communities from across the Middle East, South Asia, Europe and elsewhere.
“Different Bahraini groups responded differently. Different expat groups responded differently,” said the resident. “A lot of the response is not inherently political, but rather socioeconomic.”
For instance, whereas many here rely on trade, others work with Americans or feel more directly exposed to the violence.
An expatriate who has lived in the Bahraini capital since 2010 said the city’s rhythm still feels off. Both residents spoke on the condition of anonymity, citing fears of repercussions for publicly criticizing authorities.
“The shops aren’t as busy anymore,” the expat said. “People are still going and socializing, but people aren’t buying.”
Since the fighting began, some imported produce has stopped arriving altogether, while what does arrive often appears lower quality than before — the result, residents say, of shipping disruptions related to the war.
For some residents, the disruption feels unlike anything Bahrain has experienced.
The expat had witnessed no comparable shock, he said. He had lived through unrest in 2011 tied to Arab Spring-era protests, the 2017 blockade several Gulf neighbors imposed on Qatar and the COVID-19 lockdowns of 2020.
But unlike those crises, this war directly disrupted the flow of goods into Bahrain — an island that relies heavily on imports for food, construction materials and nearly everything else.
“This one has been a major, major difference,” he said. “Because of getting things in, of supplying the island, which relies on so much coming from outside.”
The ceasefire is now seven weeks old, and the Trump administration has said it is working toward an interim agreement with Iran that would extend the pause in fighting and allow continued negotiations. At least one media outlet, Axios, on Thursday reported that a ceasefire extension had been tentatively reached.
Still, when conversations in Bahrain turn to a hypothetical ceasefire, many residents end them the same way, with an Arabic expression of hope:
“Inshallah, it will last.”
