When a Ramadan Meal Became a Massacre in Yemen
It was supposed to be a peaceful Ramadan evening, the kind where families gather after sunset, share laughter over warm meals, and feel the comfort of togetherness. But in the northern neighborhoods of Sanaa, Yemen, that serenity was ripped apart by a thunderous explosion—one that left lives shattered, dreams buried under rubble, and hearts aching in silence.
Ammar Mohammed was just steps away from his wife's relatives’ home, the al-Zeini family, when the U.S. airstrike hit. The house, full of warmth and life moments earlier, turned into a heap of smouldering debris in a blink. Twelve members of the al-Zeini family—women and children mostly—were killed. They were not militants. They were not armed. They were simply breaking their fast, wrapped in the traditions of Ramadan, when the blast stole everything.
This attack was part of a larger U.S. campaign targeting the Houthis, justified as a retaliation for their assaults on Israeli-linked ships in the Red Sea. The rationale, according to former President Donald Trump, was to suppress Houthi capabilities and deter further aggression. But what happens when the bombs miss—or worse, when they hit exactly where they were intended, but those places hold innocent lives?
Ammar, dazed and bleeding, ran to the house only to find neighbors already clawing through rubble with bare hands. No one inside had survived. He said he felt everything and nothing at once—grief, confusion, anger, guilt, and relief for his own survival, all crashing down like the walls around him.
Also Read:- Dusty Skies and Light Winds to Mark the UAE Weekend Weather
- Sidney Crosby and Rutger McGroarty: A Spark Igniting the Penguins’ Future
Then there’s Khawla, another mother nearby, whose two sons had been playing just meters away from the blast zone. The explosion threw their small bodies across the street. By some miracle, they survived with only bruises and cuts. But the emotional scars? Deeper than any shrapnel wound. Her boys now ask, "Will the bombs come back?" And she doesn't know how to answer.
The thing is, this isn't a one-off tragedy. These so-called "precision" strikes have claimed at least 53 lives in recent weeks, many of them civilians. The line between militant and mother, between combatant and child, becomes dangerously blurred when bombs fall from so high up.
What we’re seeing is not just military action—it’s the destruction of homes, of memories, of the simple right to sit at a dinner table in peace. It’s families wiped out “just like that,” as Ammar described it. A life one moment, a crater the next.
If the goal is peace, then why is the path paved with so much pain?
When airstrikes become common sounds in the night sky, when children flinch at the hum of a plane, when families wonder if their next iftar will be their last—it’s no longer a war on rebels. It’s a war on hope.
And in Yemen, hope is now buried beneath the rubble.
Read More:
0 Comments