In an instant: US airstrikes shatter Yemeni families
Ammar was only a few steps away from his loved ones when the blast hurled him to the ground. Everyone inside the house was killed.
Sanaa, Yemen – On the evening of March 15, Ammar Mohammed was walking through the lively streets of a modern residential neighborhood in northern Sanaa.
Tall and slender, Ammar was sharply dressed and on his way to enjoy a meal at a relative’s home. The crisp spring air, cooled after sunset, carried the rich aromas of home-cooked dishes as families prepared to break their fast on the final evening of Ramadan.
His destination was the two-story house of his wife’s relatives, the al-Zeini family. Like the other tightly packed homes on the street, their house glowed warmly with lights, a beacon of life and togetherness.
Even from a distance, Ammar could see windows lit from within, and as he passed by homes, he could hear laughter, conversation, the clinking of cutlery the comforting sounds of families gathering for iftar. He was excited to join them and looked forward to his wife arriving later for the post-iftar gathering.
The neighborhood was alive: children ran barefoot in the street, mosque speakers echoed Quranic recitations, and the bustling energy of kitchens spilled into the night air.
But just as he approached the house, the peaceful evening was violently torn apart. A deafening blast shattered the calm, and a blinding orange flash lit the sky like a false dawn.
The earth heaved beneath him, flinging him backward as a shockwave of dust and debris engulfed him. Dazed, ears ringing, and struggling to breathe, Ammar lifted his head only to find the al-Zeini home had vanished.
“It was just gone,” said the 30-year-old civil servant. “A heap of rubble, smoke, and twisted metal.”
All 12 members of the al-Zeini family mostly women and children were killed that night, victims of a U.S. airstrike.
The attack was part of a campaign ordered by then-President Donald Trump, who claimed the strikes were aimed at Houthi military sites in retaliation for their attacks on Israeli-linked vessels in the Red Sea which the Houthis say are in response to Israel’s blockade of Gaza.
The U.S. strikes continued, killing at least 53 people and injuring nearly 100 more.
A neighborhood shattered
Ammar, his hands bleeding from being thrown against the asphalt, ran toward the ruins of the house. The blast had also destroyed the neighboring home. He joined others frantically digging through the rubble, hoping for survivors. But there were none.
“I was overwhelmed confused, terrified, thankful to be alive, but shattered by what I was witnessing,” he said. “This was a family gathered to break their fast, not a military target. To the Americans, there’s no difference between a rebel and a child.”
He couldn’t bring himself to speak more about his lost relatives. “I’m afraid of what’s coming next,” he said quietly.
The joyful sounds of the evening had been replaced by screams, as terrified parents poured into the street, desperately looking for their children.
They were right there
Khawla, a mother living just a few houses down, had been preparing iftar while keeping an eye on her two sons eight-year-old Usama and six-year-old Mustafa as they played outside.
They were waiting for their father to return so the family could break their fast together.
Then came the explosion.
“The ground shook, and I ran outside, panicked,” the 30-year-old mother recalled. “Just moments before, my children were there. Suddenly, they were gone.”
She stumbled through the debris-filled street, dust thick in the air, frantically shouting their names. No response.
A neighbor eventually spotted two small bodies lying meters away, hurled by the blast. He scooped them up and rushed them into Khawla’s home, fearing another strike.
“I ran after him, crying, terrified of what I would see. They were alive, but in shock,” she said. “I checked every inch of their little bodies.”
The boys had escaped with bruises and cuts wounds she could tend to but the trauma left deeper, invisible scars.
“They ask me if the bombs will come back. I just hold them and stay silent,” she said, her voice cracking. “But I can’t stop thinking about the house down the street — the children who didn’t survive.”
*Names changed to protect identities.
