Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
the
16th
of
Ramadan,
which
corresponds
to
July
3rd,
2015
at
1:30am,
after
midnight,
we
were
sleeping
at
our
home
in
Western
Al-Jeraf
in
Al-Thawra
district,
when
suddenly,
I
dont
know
what
happened
to
us.
I
found
myself
in
a
place
resembling
a
disaster,
not
my
home
in
which
I
had
slept
reassured,
where
my
wife
and
children
slept
in
peace
and
safety.
I
was
awakened
by
my
wifes
screams
and
the
voices
of
people
calling
out,
Ibrahim!
Ibrahim!
and
my
wife
crying
out,
Ibrahim!
In
these
few
seconds,
my
life
was
taken
off
course,
and
my
home
became
Hell
from
the
horrors
of
the
scene,
the
sounds
of
the
moaning,
and
the
screams
of
my
wife
and
neighbors.
I
was
trying
to
find
the
door
that
led
to
the
room
where
the
rest
of
my
family
was,
but
I
couldn't
open
it,
so
I
climbed
from
the
living
room
wall
to
the
room
in
which
my
family
slept,
and
I
found
the
debris
half
way
up
the
room.
My
wife
was
screaming
from
beneath
the
rubble
My
legs!
legs!
whilst
half
of
her
body
was
under
the
rubble.
I
tried
with
all
the
strength
God
gave
me
to
remove
rocks
that
were
on
top
of
my
daughtermy
daughter
Zainab,
who
was
not
yet
a
year
old,
was
entirely
buried
beneath
the
debris
that
fell
upon
us
from
the
house
next
door.
People
came
to
rescue
us
and
they
tried
to
break
the
door
to
get
us
out
of
the
house,
when
suddenly
I
found
my
son
in
front
of
me,
standing
on
top
of
the
rubble.
I
thanked
God
profusely
for
removing
him
from
beneath
that
rubble
but
my
wife
and
my
daughter
Zainab
remained
so
I
tried
and
tried
removing
my
daughter
from
underneath
the
rubble.
As
for
my
wife,
she
was
screaming
from
under
the
rubble
that
covered
the
lower
half
of
her
body
while
shouting
and
saying,
Oh
God!
Oh
God!
Suddenly
I
heard
the
sound
of
the
ambulance
as
I
was
digging
to
remove
my
daughter
Zainab
from
beneath
the
rubble.
She
was
freed
so
I
handed
her
over
to
one
of
the
people
who
came
to
rescue
us
and
thereafter
I
removed
some
rocks
that
were
on
top
of
my
wife.
I
looked
at
my
wife
after
she
was
freed;
there
was
blood
and
fractures
all
over
her
body;
she
was
completely
handicapped.
I
and
another
person
placed
my
wife
in
an
ambulance
that
rushed
towards
Al-Muayed
Hospital.
I
entered
the
hospital
calling
out,
My
daughter,
Zainab!When
I
entered
the
Emergency
Room,
I
found
my
daughter
Zainab
with
a
doctor
who
was
trying
to
save
her.
The
doctor
wanted
me
to
leave
him
while
he
tried
to
save
her,
but
at
this
moment,
I
could
not
be
convinced
that
she
was
martyred.
I
witnessed
sadness
and
misery
unlike
any
other
I
had
experienced
in
my
life,
and
felt
as
though
my
heart
was
tearing
over
my
daughter
Zainab.
I
felt
that
if
the
world
gathered
at
this
moment
to
help
me,
I
would
have
asked
them
to
return
my
daughter,
my
love,
and
the
joy
of
my
life,
Zainab,
to
me.
So
I
took
her
from
Al-Moayed
Hospital
and
headed
to
Al-Thawra
General
Hospital
in
the
capital
Sanaa,
as
this
is
the
only
hospital
containing
all
medical
devices.
I
had
hope
that
my
daughter
would
live,
so
I
carried
her
in
my
arms,
but
when
I
reached
the
Emergency
Room
in
Al-Thawra
Hospital
I
was
told
that
she
is
no
longer
alive
and
that
she
is
with
God.
At
that
point
I
couldn't
see
anything
and
I
fainted.
Blood
was
flowing
from
my
back
and
hand.
When
I
woke
up
I
found
myself
in
a
hospital
room
with
people
surrounding
me.
I
called
out
to
them,
Wheres
my
family?
Where
is
my
daughter
Zainab?
Wheres
my
wife?
Wheres
my
son?"
The
doctor
responded
that
my
family
was
fine,
but
none
of
them
came
and
I
didn't
see
my
daughter
Zainab
nor
my
son
Abdul
Kareem
in
the
hospital.
So
I
left
the
bed
and
began
searching
for
my
family,
wondering
in
which
hospital
they
were.
I
found
my
son
in
the
Military
Hospital,
and
thank
God
his
condition
was
not
bad.
My
son
Abdul
Kareem
spoke
to
me
and
said,
Dad
so
I
saw
that
his
injuries
were
minor
and
life
still
flowed
through
his
veins.
The
worst
was
yet
to
come
as
I
headed
to
the
hospital
where
my
wife
remained.
When
I
arrived,
my
wife
was
in
the
Operating
Theatre
and
I
was
crying
out
and
calling,Where
is
my
daughter
Zainab?
Where
is
my
heart
Zainab?
Thats
when
my
brother
responded
saying,
She
is
in
the
mortuary.
I
rushed
to
the
mortuary
in
Al-
Thawra
General
Hospital
asking,
Wheres
my
daughter
Zainab?
They
said,
Shes
There.
And
when
I
saw
where
she
was,
I
wished
for
my
death.
I
saw
my
daughter
Zainab
in
a
large
refrigerator
where
water
is
stored,
and
with
her
were
many
children.
The
shock
of
seeing
Zainab
in
a
refrigerator
with
ten
dead
children
on
top
of
her
was
bigger
than
seeing
the
debris
that
fell
upon
my
family
and
I.
I
used
to
fear
the
breeze
of
the
wind,
the
rays
of
the
sun,
and
the
sands
of
the
earth
from
touching
her
body,
and
now
I've
seen
you
in
the
ugliest
place
and
in
the
harshest
scene.
Tears
were
pouring
from
my
eyes
without
any
feeling.
I
felt
as
though
the
blood
in
my
veins
had
frozen
and
that
my
heart
could
beat
no
more.
Zainab,
you
were
my
each
and
every
heartbeat,
my
whole
life,
and
all
that
I
had.
Zainab,
my
daughter,
why
did
they
kill
you?
In
whose
name
did
they
kill
you?
My
daughter,
they
killed
you
in
the
name
of
religion,
in
the
name
of,
There
is
no
God
but
God
and
Mohammad
is
his
Messenger.
I
took
Zainab
out
of
the
refrigerator,
placed
her
in
a
coffin,
and
asked
my
brother
to
take
a
photo
of
me
with
my
daughter.
It
was
the
photograph
that
was
worth
a
thousand
words.
With
their
actions,
God
and
His
Messenger
are
innocent
of
them
and
their
acts.
Thereafter,
my
brother
asked
me
to
bury
the
body
of
my
daughter
Zainab
so
I
went
to
Al-Thawra
Hospital
where
my
daughter
Zainab
was
clothed
in
a
shroud
for
burial
and
I
asked
my
brother
to
take
one
last
photo
of
me
with
my
daughter
Zainab.
But
my
brother
hesitated,
saying
that
I
wasn't
in
a
good
condition
and
that
there
was
no
need
for
this
photo.
This
was
the
photo
that
would
make
millions
cry
and
it
was
the
photo
that
would
awaken
peoples
hearts
due
to
the
injustice
that
we
are
facing.
We
see
our
children
and
our
futures
bloodied
in
between
our
hands.
Whilst
their
children
are
playing
and
having
fun,
our
children
are
being
killed
and
violated.
Which
law
governs
them?
And
what
court
will
rule
over
them?
I
then
buried
her
body
and
headed
to
the
hospital
in
which
my
wife
remained,
so
I
could
stand
with
her
in
her
illness,
to
console
her,
relieve
her
grief
and
carry
the
physical
and
emotional
pain
she
had
to
endure
after
losing
her
daughter
who
was
the
most
precious
thing
she
had.
Thats
when
the
doctor
told
me
that
there
were
three
other
martyrs
with
Zainab:
A
mother,
her
daughter,
and
her
daughters
son.
I
remained
in
Al-Muayed
Hospital
with
my
wife,
where
a
surgery
that
installed
an
external
device
on
her
leg
did
not
prove
useful.
I
heard
of
a
doctor
renowned
for
his
work
so
I
went
to
him
and
the
first
thing
he
did
was
to
remove
the
external
device
and
fit
a
cast.
Thereafter,
I
took
her
out
of
the
hospital
and
to
her
fathers
house,
as
she
was
unable
to
move
until
they
performed
a
third
surgery
where
her
leg
bone
was
fixated
with
an
intramedullary
nail.
The
nail
now
has
to
be
removed
but
I
dont
know
when
the
doctor
will
decide
to
do
that,
as
it
depends
on
her
condition.
The
suffering
continues
until
now,
as
we
are
not
settled
and
no
longer
have
a
home
that
brings
my
family
together
under
the
same
roof.
We
are
homeless.
I
spend
every
day
in
a
different
relatives
home.
I
eat
and
drink
in
the
markets.
My
wife
and
son
are
in
one
place
and
I
am
in
another.
I
am
looking
for
justice,
so
who
will
guide
me
to
it
and
show
me
where
it
lies?
Whether
in
the
East
of
the
Earth
or
in
the
West,
we
want
people
to
empathize
with
us
and
understand
the
oppression,
pain,
sorrow,
subjugation,
and
displacement
we
are
suffering.
I
wish
that
anyone
with
a
conscious
and
merciful
heart
will
sympathize
with
my
case
and
the
case
of
a
people,
a
nation,
a
land,
a
country
destroyed
and
violated
under
the
pretext
of
restoring
hope.
They
have
enjoyed
seeing
the
people
of
wisdom,
faith
and
civilization
with
their
blood
shed,
their
culture
destroyed,
and
their
people
violated
from
every
aspect,
with
the
Arab
and
Western
world
silently
watching.
We
hope
you
will
be
gracious
to
us,
and
look
at
our
situation
from
the
perspective
of
justice,
mercy,
and
compassion.
Look
at
us
from
the
perspective
of
human
rights
that
you
call
upon
and
for
which
you
work
hard.
We
have
the
right
to
live
securely
and
safely,
to
be
protected
and
to
protect
our
children
from
murder
and
abuse.
I
hope
my
voice
will
reach
the
entire
world,
truthfully
and
clearly
Yemeni
children
are
in
need
of
help.
Ibrahim
Abdulkareem,
baby
Zainabs
father.
April,
2016
Western
Al-Jeraf,
Al-Thawra
district,
Yemen