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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

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

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