The young woman was carried into the hospital at 9:30 a.m. Twenty minutes earlier she had been hanging laundry when a bomb fell in her courtyard on the outskirts of Taizz, an ancient city in southwest Yemen. A man covered in blood, her cousin, cried as the doctors rushed her to the trauma center.
“Both legs?” he asked when the doctor returned and gestured to show where they would amputate. One leg was shredded; the other had a protruding bone. Both, the doctor confirmed. She was put in an ambulance and taken to another hospital. Then there was silence. The nurses scrubbed blood off the floor and waited for the next patient.
That night, Matteo Bastianelli, an Italian photographer who’d watched the scene, wrote in his diary about life in Taizz after three years under siege: “Doctors wait, with the thunder of airplanes in their ears and the dust in their eyes, living with the fear that something terrible and irreparable could happen at any moment."