Abu Hatem al-Ghoutani, a survivor of the chemical massacre in Eastern Ghouta, speaks of the tragic loss of his family during the massacre. He says, “My family and I were sleeping at home. Around 1:45 at night, we heard unfamiliar missile sounds that we hadn’t experienced before. Shortly after, we began to experience difficulty in breathing and nasal discharge, along with tears. Immediately, my older sister said it was chemical. We started closing the windows and placing wet towels on our faces.” He continues, “The situation was getting worse, and we decided to climb to the building’s rooftop. My little brother, who was fifteen years old, asked my mom, ‘Are we all going to die?’ I reassured him, ‘No, we won’t die.’ The building had five floors. When we reached the third floor, my mother fainted. My little brother ran to hold her, not knowing what was happening. Shortly after my mother, my sister also fainted. He continued regretfully, I looked back to check on my other brothers and sisters. My youngest sister was sitting on the stairs, screaming, ‘I can’t see!’ Meanwhile, my middle sister was lying on the ground, froth coming out of her mouth. I ran to my little brother, asking him what should we do. He looked at me helplessly, then he collapsed too.” It was something pulling me upstairs and urging me to continue to the rooftop. Indeed, I climbed up and lost consciousness upon reaching. I woke up the next day to the sound of slaps on my face from the medical point and a voice asking, ‘Are you alive? Are you alive? I tried to tell them that I was alive, but the words wouldn’t come out. They pulled me out of the bodies and placed me on the bed. I remained in a state of temporary amnesia for nearly a week. I couldn’t remember anything from that night, and every day I asked them, ‘Where is my family? Why haven’t they come to visit me?’ After about a week, I sat alone, pulled myself together, and remembered what happened. Eventually thank God for everything.
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