"The school bus under attack... the story of the martyrdom of the child Atheer"

Location: Beit Al-Lahidah area in Sa'wan, Bani Hashish district
Time: 11:00 AM on this Sunday, October 5, 2026.


The child, Atheer Al-Amri, was going to school like every morning.
She carried nothing but her bag, her notebooks, and the dreams of a child who knew nothing of the world except that tomorrow held a beautiful promise.
Perhaps she was thinking about her midterm exam, or perhaps she was waiting to go home to tell her mother about something small that happened at school.
Her mother bid her farewell with a heavy heart and a tender smile.
The mother said to her:
Atheer, have you reviewed your lessons? Read the prayer for ease, and review the answers before you submit them.
Atheer listened to her mother, who pointed upwards with her thumb, as if to say, "Don't worry," and then said:
Yes, I checked... I hope you're well, Mom.
Her mother followed her with prayers, watching her little girl's steps as she stepped onto the bus, which quickly drove off.
She had no idea that those were her daughter's last steps towards school.
Inside the bus, Atheer was talking enthusiastically with her classmates as they reviewed the lessons for the exam, which she did not know would be her last exam.
Atheer and her classmates arrived at school.
The exam was easy for a bright young student like Atheer.
She reviewed her answers again before handing the answer sheet to the teacher, then went out to the schoolyard to wait for her classmates who would return with her on the bus.

At eleven o'clock in the morning, a huge explosion rocked the area.
Atheer knew that voice very well.
I grew up hearing the sounds of Saudi enemy airstrikes.
She remembered her little brother, who would cry whenever he heard the sound of those explosions.
The students gathered together, then boarded the bus.
Atheer was keeping a close eye on the way back home.
But she didn't know that that road would become a road of no return.
In a single moment...
Childhood has stopped.
Atheer fell, and with her fell something bigger than a child's body.
Her notebook fell.
Her bag fell.
And a morning that was supposed to be filled with the voices and laughter of the female students fell silent.
Atheer was a child carrying a pen, not a weapon.
A student carrying a book, not a gun.
She was returning home, not to the front.
The bag returned alone.
The notebooks are back.
And the pen that she was holding in her small hand returned.
As for Atheer...
The criminal Saudi aggression targeted the bus that was transporting her and her colleagues, so she was martyred and became a witness to its crimes, and a number of her colleagues were injured.


Oh, this pain, Umm Atheer
Atheer's mother watched from the window of the house, with a terrified heart, as her daughter's bus arrived.
She heard the sound of the raid, and it seemed to her that the explosion was close to them.
But the bus never arrived.
I contacted the school administration.
The response she received was meant to reassure her, but it only sparked even greater fear in her heart:
- Yes, Atheer and her colleagues left.
The mother watched the bus arrive with a trembling body.
Every minute felt like a lifetime.
Then her phone rang.
I looked at the screen.
She was her husband.
She replied: Yes
His voice came to her, trembling with tears and heavy with the weight of death:
- Oh, Umm Atheer... Atheer has been martyred, and I am in the hospital now
Umm Atheer was shocked.
She fell to the ground.
It was as if the words had not found their way into her mind.
Then a mother's cry escaped her, unable to believe that her little girl would never return:
Oh God, my daughter is not a military commander...
Do not carry a weapon.
She knows nothing about the battles.
She was carrying a pen and an exam booklet.
She was going to school to learn, not to war to fight.
The seat should remain empty...
The notebook is open...
The pen is in its place...