It’s been seven months since I last saw my three sons. However, a while back, when the fighting was raging in Dara’a, I was surprised with a call from a private number. When I answered all I heard was: “your blessings, mother. I’m Ahmad.” The line disconnected suddenly, and with that I broke down. I went out to the streets crying and screaming…where is Ahmad?? Hours passed, I kept roaming the streets till dawn, until I found one of Ahmad’s friends. He held me and said: “Um Ahmad, ululate, for Ahmad has died a martyr.” At the funeral I found myself ululating and screaming from pain at the same time. I am only one out of a million mothers who have lost their sons, husbands, or people close to them. The question that keeps resonating in my mind is: till when?