At the house we were met by Hashim’s wife, who told us the bodies were not there. My wife was crying, asking me to show her her sister’s body. I promised her that I would bring the bodies back and quickly returned to what was left of Lewza’s house.

On the way I phoned Hashim. He was in a hospital, where Taha’s body had been taken. I asked him where Lewza’s body was. He started to cry. Between sobs, I understood that he was telling me that she was still under the wreckage of the house — the collapsed roof, shattered furniture and the debris of concrete and stone.

Somebody needed to take charge of the situation. I was the eldest. I called my children, their friends, the nephews and neighbors and told them that we had to organize a search for Lewza’s body. They all agreed. I asked everyone near us to either help or leave us to do the job.

About 15 of us formed a line and started removing the debris one piece at a time, each person passing bits of wreckage to the person next to him. In 30 minutes, we’d cleared the road and yard. We saved any paper with writing on it, and any furniture we could salvage, and put it in a room that was not damaged.

Working in the house for the next three hours, we collected small pieces of Lewza’s flesh, bones and hair, all mixed with blood and body fluids. Some got sick and vomited. We found the remainder of her body under stacks of concrete and furniture. We pried it out. One of her legs was missing. Half her face and head were gone. She was beyond recognition. I knew right there and then that I would not fulfill my promise to my wife. I was not going to let her see her sister. Better that she remember Lewza’s beautiful face as she knew it.

I then phoned Hashim and told him that we had found Lewza’s body, without giving him details — I was relieved that he did not ask. I told him that I would make the burial arrangements and rent a hall for people to come pay their condolences and share our sorrow. We took Lewza’s remains to the mosque for the funeral service, and waited for Hashim, who was bringing Taha’s body. There was a crowd of about 200 people there to mourn with us. We shared a sense of hurt, grief and helplessness. Even now, I am stuck between hating myself for being a citizen of a poor country and hating the Saudis and their allies for being rich.