18 uncle, Ghanim ibn Kharbāsh. After a brief visit, we returned to my grandmother’s house. That night, we slept in my grandmother’s tent on the bed of my grandfather, Ghanim ibn Salem al-Shamsi. Ghanim ibn Naser lay to my grandmother’s right, and I was on her left. She was overjoyed, her happiness palpable as she played with us until we drifted into sleep. The following day, an abrupt knock on the door shattered the morning calm. As we opened it, there stood Naser al-Marri, accompanied by the man with the ominous rifle. Fear struck us, and we rushed to our grandmother’s side, seeking her protection. With the grace of a
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