Sanaa, Yemen – On the evening of March 15, Ammar Mohammed* walked through the lively streets of a modern residential area in northern Sanaa.

The slender, eloquently dressed man was on his way to a scrumptious meal at his relatives’ house.

The cool, spring atmosphere, following sunset, carried the rich scent of homemade meals as families were about to break their fast on the last day of Ramadan.

The two-story home of his wife’s relatives, the al-Zeinis*, glowed brightly, like the other homes nestled tightly on that street.

From a distance, he could see the windows brightly lit and felt the pulse of life emanating from the closed doors around him, as families gathered, children laughed, and cutlery clashed.

He was looking forward to enjoying iftar and to joining his wife later at his relatives’ residence for a gathering after the meal.

The street was bustling – mosque speakers played Quranic recitations, and children ran through the asphalt, with the chaos of active kitchens pouring out of open doorways.

He was just steps away when the tranquility shattered.

A piercing roar split the calm, an intense orange flash turning the surroundings into an eerie artificial day.

The ground shook beneath him, sending him flying backwards, his ears ringing as a wave of dust and debris washed over him, stinging his skin. For a moment, he felt he couldn’t breathe.

When he came to, the al-Zeini home had vanished.

“The house had simply disappeared, reduced to a smoldering heap of rubble and twisted metal,” the 30-year-old civil servant recounted.

“All 12 members of the al-Zeini family – mostly women and children – who were inside, were killed,” he said, filled with sorrow.

The al-Zeini family was killed in a raid ordered by United States President Donald Trump.

Trump aimed to target Houthi fighters and military installations, hoping to force them to stop attacking ships with ties to Israel in the Red Sea – a response to Israel’s ongoing blockade of the Gaza Strip.

The US raids continued, resulting in at least 53 deaths and nearly 100 more wounded.

A Neighbourhood Shattered

Mohammed, his palms bleeding from falling onto the asphalt, rushed towards the house to search for survivors.

The entire house, along with the one next to it, had been demolished.

He joined his neighbors in pulling away bricks and iron rebar, hoping to find anyone alive.

“The emotions and thoughts I experienced were mirrored in my surroundings. I was confused, frightened, relieved, concerned, joyful to have survived, and devastated by what happened to that family.”

“This was a family breaking their fast, not a military target. Americans make no distinction between a rebel and a child,” he told Al Jazeera.

He couldn’t say any more about his deceased relatives, only expressing his dread of what was to come.

He vividly remembers how the joyful sounds of children playing abruptly turned into screams as frantic parents rushed into the streets to look for their children.

‘They Were There Just a Minute Ago’

Khawla*, who lived a few houses away from the al-Zeinis, was busy setting the table and taking care of her two sons, eight-year-old Usama and six-year-old Mustafa, who were playing outside.

They were waiting for their father’s return before the family could sit down to break their fast.

Panicked by the shaking ground and loud explosions, the 30-year-old mother ran outside in terror, looking for any trace of her children.

“My children were there just moments ago, and suddenly, they were gone,” she recounts.

“I staggered through the debris scattered across the street, with dust still hanging in the air. I was in terror.”

“I called out their names…no answer,” she says, her voice breaking down as she remembers that night.

“A neighbor saw their small bodies thrown several meters away by the blast’s force,” reports Khawla, who wished to be named only by her first name.

The neighbor picked them up and took them back to Khawla’s home, fearing more attacks and thinking it would be safer inside.

“I followed him, sobbing and trying to understand how badly my boys were injured. They were too shocked to respond, but once inside, I frantically checked every inch of their bodies.”

By luck, the boys only suffered minor injuries like cuts and bruises, which Khawla was able to treat herself.

“These are cuts that will heal, but there are deeper scars that are much harder to mend. My kids haven’t been themselves since,” she adds.

The boys keep asking if more bombs will hit the neighborhood, she notes.

“I hug them, avoid answering the question…but I can’t shake off the image of the family whose kids didn’t make it,” she says.

Note: Names have been changed to protect identities

This article was produced in cooperation with Egab.