Twenty hours passed like an eternity over Sana’a.

A heavy silence, agonizing anticipation, and broken hearts waited for a miracle beneath the rubble of the 14th of October neighborhood.

It wasn’t only Batool’s family who lived through the pain — all of Sana’a held its breath, waiting for the Yemeni mother trapped under the ruins of her home, destroyed by an American airstrike that spared no stone.

She had only dreamt of embracing her two young children once again... but she emerged as a lifeless body.

Batool was not a fighter.

She had never seen New York or the corridors of Washington.

She didn’t even know what Sana’a’s airport looked like.

She was simply a mother of two small children, dreaming of dressing them in new clothes for Eid al-Adha, with just two hundred dollars.

Yet the bombs from Washington — worth millions — came to steal that simple dream, and take her life along with her family’s.

The American warplanes did not distinguish between a front line and a residential block, between a fighter and a civilian.

They bombed a home full of women and children — without mercy, without warning.

Batool fell as yet another victim in a tragedy that has repeated itself countless times — not only in Sana’a but also in Gaza, in the West Bank, and in every land resisting American and Israeli hegemony.

In the 14th of October neighborhood, where the targeted home stood — a house owned by a businessman — Batool’s husband lived in a small corner of it, working as a guard.

Neither he nor the residents of the neighborhood expected to be visited by hours of terror and fear.

In the moment of ultimate devastation, Batool’s little daughter Zahra and her brother cried over the rubble, waiting for their mother, waiting for her embrace, waiting for the kiss of safety that would never come again.

In Gaza, children are killed under the pretext of war.

In Sana’a, they are killed under the label of "precision strikes."

But the truth is the same:

This is not a war against terrorism.

It is a war against life, against mothers, against anyone who dares say "No" to American arrogance.

O world:

What terrorism lies in a child waiting for her mother under the rubble?

What threat did Batool pose to the United States or Israel?

What international law allows the bombing of a woman asleep in her bed?

O human rights advocates:

Will you see Batool as you have seen others?

Or will this crime be forgiven because the victim this time is Yemeni?

Batool was not just a number in the lists of war casualties.

She was a human being, a Yemeni mother. She had a simple dream. And American bombs came to erase it all.