On 12 May 2021, I was sitting at the entrance to our house on a-Nizar Street in the neighborhood of a-Shuja’iyeh, talking with two friends – my cousin, Muhammad Nahed Abu Sakran, and my nephew, Muhammad Hashem Abu Sakran. The power was out and everything was dark. At around 8:30 P.M., my dad came out of the house and asked us to come inside so we wouldn’t get hurt.

Just then, I heard a very loud explosion and the place filled with smoke and dust. I didn’t move. I heard parts of the building fall near us. A minute later, I saw Muhammad Nahed and Muhammad Hashem. They were lying on top of each other, bleeding. I got up and saw that I’d also hit been by shrapnel in the leg and chest. I looked behind me and saw my dad lying on the floor inside, covered in shrapnel and blood. He was drawing his last breaths. I tried to pick him up, but I was too badly injured. I called out to my brothers, who were inside the house. They picked me up and gave the wounded people first aid. Some neighbors took them away in their cars.

After about 10 minutes, an ambulance arrived and I was put inside. I blacked out in the ambulance and woke up at a-Shifaa Hospital. I was X-rayed and they found shrapnel in my legs and chest. They also found a tear in my auditory nerve and a perforation in my right ear. I still can’t  hear properly. At the hospital I asked after my father, my cousin and my nephew. The doctors told me they were okay and were being treated in the ER. I was sure they’d all been killed because they were so badly injured. During the bombing, I’d seen them looking at me, but they hadn’t been able to speak.

About half an hour later, the doctors told that me that my father and Muhammad Nahed had been killed. I started shouting and blacked out. When I woke up, I got up because I wanted to see my father. Even though I was injured, I had to see him. But the doctors wouldn’t let me go because they weren’t done treating me. I went home that night because I couldn’t stand staying at the hospital. I wanted to be with my mother and sisters and the rest of the family.

The next day, they brought my father and Muhammad Nahel in so we could say goodbye to them. A lot of people came. I cried when I saw them. I couldn’t hug them because of my condition. I said goodbye only by looking at them from afar. Those were very difficult moments. I felt like I’d lost part of my body. My father was so dear to me, and my cousin was a very close friend of mine. We were inseparable.

Since my father died, life has become extremely hard. My father and I worked as farmers. We went out to our land together every day. I still see him in my dreams, asking me to go to the land and water the crops. I go there with my brother but I can’t stay long, because I see him everywhere. Muhammad was one of my closest friends. He was like a brother to me. Every day, we would sit together at the entrance to my house, and we used to go together to the market or to his place. I hope I can be patient after his death. I pray that he enters into the grace of God and goes to heaven.