Testimony Date: 12 July 2025
Rama Mohammad Mohammad Siyam, 14 years old, resident of Kuwait Roundabout, Salah al-Din Street
Since the beginning of the war, I was forced to flee my home in Kuwait Roundabout due to the intense shelling and the Israeli forces’ control of the area. I was forcibly displaced with my family to my grandfather’s house (my mother’s father) in Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, hoping we might find some safety amidst the chaos.
On 13 December 2023, we were sitting in my grandfather’s house, terrified by the shells falling all around us. Around the time of the Maghrib prayer, I was sitting with my family and my cousins beside me when we heard a sudden explosion. A shell struck the house just three metres away, and in an instant, my life turned into a nightmare.
My right arm, already trembling with fear, was severely injured just below the elbow — it was immediately amputated before I could even grasp what had happened. My arm was dangling, with only the skin holding the severed bone. My back was hit by shrapnel and was bleeding. I did not lose consciousness, but the shock was overwhelming. I cannot describe the terror I felt when I saw my arm hanging like that.
My uncle Faiz arrived at that moment, wrapped my arm in gauze, and carried me on a cart that he and his sons pushed. We reached the Baptist Hospital after the evening prayer. I went straight into surgery, and my right arm was amputated below the elbow. I received multiple blood transfusions during the operation. Afterward, I was in deep shock. I never imagined I would lose part of my body. I was discharged the next day because the hospital was overcrowded, and I couldn’t stay any longer.
Today, I suffer from the strange, painful sensations of phantom electricity in my amputated arm. I’m struggling to adjust to my condition. My mother never leaves my side. She helps me with everything and takes great care of me, but the psychological pain I endure is more than any human heart can bear. I’ve applied for a medical referral for prosthetic treatment abroad, and I’m currently in the rehabilitation phase to prepare for a prosthetic arm that could help me regain some normalcy.
But I cannot hide my feelings — I am overwhelmed with sadness and deep depression. I lost my hand, and with it, a part of my freedom. I can no longer play with my friends or write like I used to. My dream of continuing my education now feels distant, and I feel like the path ahead is blocked. I cry constantly, and every day I wish for a prosthetic limb to be fitted, but no one has provided the psychological support I so desperately need during this difficult time. The circumstances are harsh, but I hold on to hope — the hope that a prosthetic arm might help me reclaim a part of the life I lost.
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