On December 5th, 2024, artillery shelling allegedly attributed to Turkish forces and affiliated Syrian National Army factions hit the village of al-Boughaz in the western countryside of Manbij Syria, killing two siblings: Ahmed Ali al-Jaban (20 years old, male) and Zahra Ali al-Jaban (23 years old, female), and injuring a number of civilians.

According to the Manbij Military Council, “Al-Awsajli was subjected to 25 shells, and Al-Boughaz to 10 shells… This led to the targeting of a civilian’s house in Al-Boughaz, and as a result,t Zahra Ali Jaban, 23, and her brother Ahmed Ali Jaban, 20, lost their lives.”

Hawar News confirmed their deaths and added that the heavy weapon shelling destroyed many homes, warning that the number of victims might have risen. Their report specifically noted: “The villages of the western countryside of Manbij province were subjected to bombing by the Turkish occupation and its mercenaries with heavy weapons, which led to the destruction of many homes, and the martyrdom of the young man Ahmed Ali al-Jaban (20 years old), and his sister Zahra Ali al-Jaban (23 years old), both from the village of al-Boughaz.”

ANF news wrote that, according to informed sources, there were both martyrs and wounded as a result of the mercenaries’ shelling of a house in the village of al-Boughaz.

The Manbij Military Council shared pictures on Facebook related to the event.  One picture showed the shredded remains of a small truck or flatbed vehicle resting in front of a battered, windowless building wall. Lit by a harsh, direct flash at night, the twisted wreck was a skeleton of what it once had been: the front cab had been obliterated, leaving behind only mangled rods of white-painted metal curled in unnatural shapes. The steering wheel was visible but bent grotesquely. One tire remained intact but was scorched, pointing sideways. Debris was scattered widely around it, blackened by fire and torn by force. On the dirt ground in the lower right, there was a large, dark red stain: blood soaked the earth in irregular pools, testifying to the violence that had taken place there. In the background, the building wall was marked by grime and damage, its doorway opened wide and filled with darkness.

A second picture showed the dusty, rust-colored ground. The focus was on multiple pools and smears of dark, congealed blood. The stains were deep red, shiny and wet in places, soaking unevenly into the earth. Scattered among the blood were shards of blackened debris—twisted metal fragments, splintered plastic, broken glass. These scraps lay in chaotic patterns, suggesting a sudden, violent blast that had torn them apart and flung them across the ground. Most strikingly, two mobile phones lay amid this destruction. One was visibly cracked or scorched; the other had lost its back cover. Their familiar shapes were jarringly out of place in this field of wreckage and blood, suggesting a final, intimate trace of the people caught in the blast.

When belligerents were identified, the sources consistently attributed responsibility for the attack to the Turkish military and its allied “mercenaries” (Syrian National Army factions) that reportedly used heavy artillery.