3. Yemen
  4. 2019

Hajjah & Hodeidah update 13-3-19

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Adeeb Yahya Mohammed Qaba, displaced from Hodeida, has just reached Amran together with other families. They are residing in a school in Amran.<br /> <br /> "I’m from Hodiedah, Al Hali, Al Bayda neighborhood. I fled the war, the airstrikes and the F16s and the land mines planted. We came to this place, for the first time in our lives we go to a place far away from the sea, and away from the west coast which is burning now because of the war. We said let’s go there because it is safe. When we arrived here we found it extremely cold, we come from very a very warm area. We are not used to this cold weather. This change of weather made me and my children sick.<br /> "We don’t even have enough blankets, we weren’t given any; some of us sleep on the floor, we don’t have enough mattresses. I have eight children, so with me and my wife we are 10. I have 4 mattresses and 7 blankets. Me, my wife and three of our children sleep on the floor. Go and see for yourself.<br /> "Regarding the food, we have no flour, no oil and no sugar. Some people use milk, but we don’t even know how to best use milk. We cook our food using carton and plastic. We escaped from the toxicity of missiles only to come here to cook with plastic. The food becomes toxic, I swear, just like the chemicals we fled from. You can have a look there where we cook: No cooking gas and nothing.<br /> "I hope this war ends; one’s home is better than any other home. If they had to call me right now to tell me that the war has ended I wouldn’t sleep another night in Amran. I would go back to my house immediately.<br /> "I honestly feel like a stranger and like I know nothing about here.<br /> There’s no place like home."<br /> <br /> Photo and text: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 28 January, 2019
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Adeeb Yahya Mohammed Qaba, displaced from Hodeida, has just reached Amran together with other families. They are residing in a school in Amran.

"I’m from Hodiedah, Al Hali, Al Bayda neighborhood. I fled the war, the airstrikes and the F16s and the land mines planted. We came to this place, for the first time in our lives we go to a place far away from the sea, and away from the west coast which is burning now because of the war. We said let’s go there because it is safe. When we arrived here we found it extremely cold, we come from very a very warm area. We are not used to this cold weather. This change of weather made me and my children sick.
"We don’t even have enough blankets, we weren’t given any; some of us sleep on the floor, we don’t have enough mattresses. I have eight children, so with me and my wife we are 10. I have 4 mattresses and 7 blankets. Me, my wife and three of our children sleep on the floor. Go and see for yourself.
"Regarding the food, we have no flour, no oil and no sugar. Some people use milk, but we don’t even know how to best use milk. We cook our food using carton and plastic. We escaped from the toxicity of missiles only to come here to cook with plastic. The food becomes toxic, I swear, just like the chemicals we fled from. You can have a look there where we cook: No cooking gas and nothing.
"I hope this war ends; one’s home is better than any other home. If they had to call me right now to tell me that the war has ended I wouldn’t sleep another night in Amran. I would go back to my house immediately.
"I honestly feel like a stranger and like I know nothing about here.
There’s no place like home."

Photo and text: Karl Schembri/NRC
Photo taken on 28 January, 2019

  • Adeeb Yahya Mohammed Qaba, displaced from Hodeida, has just reached Amran together with other families. They are residing in a school in Amran.<br /> <br /> "I’m from Hodiedah, Al Hali, Al Bayda neighborhood. I fled the war, the airstrikes and the F16s and the land mines planted. We came to this place, for the first time in our lives we go to a place far away from the sea, and away from the west coast which is burning now because of the war. We said let’s go there because it is safe. When we arrived here we found it extremely cold, we come from very a very warm area. We are not used to this cold weather. This change of weather made me and my children sick.<br /> "We don’t even have enough blankets, we weren’t given any; some of us sleep on the floor, we don’t have enough mattresses. I have eight children, so with me and my wife we are 10. I have 4 mattresses and 7 blankets. Me, my wife and three of our children sleep on the floor. Go and see for yourself.<br /> "Regarding the food, we have no flour, no oil and no sugar. Some people use milk, but we don’t even know how to best use milk. We cook our food using carton and plastic. We escaped from the toxicity of missiles only to come here to cook with plastic. The food becomes toxic, I swear, just like the chemicals we fled from. You can have a look there where we cook: No cooking gas and nothing.<br /> "I hope this war ends; one’s home is better than any other home. If they had to call me right now to tell me that the war has ended I wouldn’t sleep another night in Amran. I would go back to my house immediately.<br /> "I honestly feel like a stranger and like I know nothing about here.<br /> There’s no place like home."<br /> <br /> Photo and text: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 28 January, 2019
  • Adnan Hassan Ali, displaced from Hodeida, with his six-months-old son Hassan. They have just arrived to this school in Amran where they are living with other families.<br /> <br /> "I fled from Hodeida. My house was hit from the air. We escaped to Amran into this school. We had explosives falling on our houses, shrapnel falling on us, shrapnel reached our house. We were very scared, and we hid under the chairs just to be protected. We expected the war to get worse, and that’s why we escaped, before things got more complicated, before we all died.<br /> "We went where others advised us to go, where there were a lot of displaced people. We came to Amran, but when we reached Amran we couldn’t find a place to stay, so we ended up in this school. We lack everything here. We lack medicines for children, diapers and other stuff. No food items, nothing.<br /> "This is a poor kid, we are displaced. I want to talk on behalf of the displaced here in this school: We’re exhausted, we really are. We had to come here against our wishes and we’re in a bad state. We’d love to go back to our homes but there’s nothing left of them. <br /> "We need more aid and more support … look what conditions we’re living in. We’ve been forced into this, with no water, rice or sugar. We have nothing here, we beg our neighbours for food. We go to the pharmacy looking for medicine and they ask us for money. We have no money. They tell us you have humanitarian organisations helping you. They think that whatever we get form aid agencies will never end."<br /> <br /> Photo and text: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 28 January, 2019
  • Ahmed Sa’afol Ahmed Abdullah, displaced from Hodeida.<br /> <br /> "There are some people who have been living here for one year, some for five months, four months, two months or even a few weeks. They keep coming from Hodeida to this camp. And as we see this camp is becoming more crowded as people keep arriving from Hodeida. It’s overcrowded.<br /> "That tank used to be refilled with water by an aid agency, now a businessman helps us by filling it weekly; we depend on his charity.<br /> Now a bunch of firewood for cooking costs 200 Yemeni Rials. Food? There is no food. We have diseases and there are no doctors.<br /> "Some organizations don’t care about citizens or the displaced. We live a miserable life, this is the life of a displaced person. We escaped from Hodeida expecting to find a better place, but no.<br /> Look at them, some of them didn’t find a tent, some of them are still coming and there are no tents for them.<br /> "The owner of the land is threatening us. He tells us we are not allowed to live on his land and we must find another place. <br /> We have no place to live in. <br /> "Displaced people need some relief. Each tent is right next to the other one and in each tent there is a family of 10 or so. Some of them have two to three women; this man who just passed by has three women living in one tent. <br /> "One’s sons, both single and married, share the same tent with their father. We want at least to be a bit comfortable here, but that’s not possible.<br /> "Now even the aid has stopped. We are not receiving flour or anything. We fled the war, from the Saudi-American aggression. They destroyed our houses, and our families had to flee; young and old people were dying. <br /> "What was our guilt, us citizens? Why did we have to flee? I used to be very happy with my life in Hodeida before the war. I used to work as a driver, I used to receive a salary, and I lived comfortably with my children. We enjoyed living in safety and security. Now it is completely changed because of the airstrikes. Now people have fled, lost their jobs, and there are people who choose to go to Mareb. They said it is safe but it isn’t. <br /> "When the airstrikes started I left the truck in front of the office and I fled. We now need aid organisations to help us, the displaced. <br /> We need, flour; we actually need to live in some comfort and safety. There is no flour, no water, no mattresses and no tents. This is what we need aid agencies to take care of for the displaced. And somewhere else where we can settle down comfortably while we’re displaced.<br /> "My message to the world and my prayer to God is for this war to stop, for all of Yemen. We want to live peaceful lives and to go back to our home cities. I just want governments to stop this war so we can live safely and happily in our country not getting displaced everywhere, even beyond Yemen.<br /> "What’s these children’s guilt? This is my message to the world: stop the war so we can live in peace and security."<br /> <br /> Photo and text: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 28 January, 2019
  • Hajjah residents show the destruction in their neighbourhood since air strikes in 2015 that also killed many civilians.<br /> <br /> Photo: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 3 February, 2019
  • A boy stands in front of his destroyed house in Hajjah. His father was also killed in the airstrike on May 2015.<br /> <br /> Photo: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 3 February, 2019
  • Kamal lost his sister Jameela, 45, in an air strike that also destroyed huge parts of his house in Hajjah in May 2015. He got into debt to rebuild his house and now depends on his sons to buy food.<br /> <br /> "My Name is Kamal and we were nine family members until my sister was killed. <br /> It hurts when I remember it. It was a Friday in 2015, in May. <br /> My house was destroyed and I was displaced for two years <br /> until, I found the money to repair my house. <br /> My sister was called Jameela, God bless her. I used to spend time together with her. She lived with us. When the missile hit it threw her to the other side. She was gone. She was 45, younger than me and unmarried.<br /> "I was there, at the neighbour’s house, when the first air strike hit us. I went down immediately. The second airstrike followed very quickly, after a few minutes… two or three minutes or less. All the neighbours’ houses fell down instantly, from Khaled’s house onwards, gone. All the neighborhood was in ruins; you couldn’t even walk in this street, nor cars or motorbikes could pass.<br /> "I took my sister with my sons to the hospital … they told us she was dead.<br /> "The entire roof was gone. Only two toilets were not affected. I was displaced for two years, renting a place. Then I got some help, I sold our jewelry and my car so that I could fix the house.<br /> "We’re living in poverty; we don’t have any salaries or sources of income. We’re exhausted. We don’t have any income. They even they stopped my father’s salary. I now depend on my sons to make some money. <br /> "I call on the international community to stand by Yemen and help the Yemeni people. We are in a devastating situation. Don’t abandon us. We’re left to look after ourselves.<br /> "I did not continue my education but I worked at a health facility as a supervisor. When the war started I got a stroke and had to stop working. I got a second stroke the day my house was hit and destroyed.<br /> "Who’s responsible for all this? We don’t have a problem with anyone. It’s the weak and the dispossessed who bear the brunt. It’s unfair. Stop this aggression on Yemen. It’s unfair."<br /> <br /> Photo and text: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 3 February, 2019
  • Kamal's house after the air strike in May 2015. He lost his sister Jameela, 45, in an air strike that also destroyed huge parts of his house in Hajjah in May 2015. He got into debt to rebuild his house and now depends on his sons to buy food.<br /> <br /> Photo taken by Kamal's family in 2015
  • Samira Ahmed Hamoud (centre), 44, widow who lost her husband, 55, in an air strike on their neighbourhood in Hajjah that also badly damaged their house, flanked by her sons Amir, 16 (left), and Naji, 10. Amir was also injured in the attack and has dropped out of school to make some money for the family.<br /> <br /> "My name is Samira Ahmed Hamoud Al Tali. My husband died on Friday afternoon. There was an airstrike … my husband died on the street while he was running towards us. My son got injured … I got injured too.I broke my back. I have eight rods in my spine. My leg has almost atrophied from the right side.<br /> "Since the aggression started my children’s condition and mine. My house was badly damaged and my neighbours’ completely destroyed. We were displaced … our house destroyed … everything gone. We were in a lot of distress after my husband died. <br /> "We’re now going into the fifth year since the beginning of the aggression and we’re still living a massive injustice.<br /> "My husband and my children were in the market, and we had airstrikes reaching the shops there. He was first hit by shrapnel and they eventually found him dead.<br /> My son has an injury in his head. He was injured here he also had an open wound up here. He stayed in the hospital for about two months. He was here in the street ... I was at my neighbour’s. I did not realize but they told me that my husband was killed and my son was injured.<br /> "My condition was difficult. I ran to the place and fell on my back.<br /> My back is broken and I still have eight rods and two metal plates.<br /> I fled to the countryside with my children. People took me in and I was in state of shock.<br /> "I stayed away from my house for a month, then we returned. Neighbours and relatives came to my house to see me but we never got anything from the government. We got 60,000 Yemeni Riyals once, then we never saw them again. It’s as if people who died on the streets are nobodies. This is so unfair. This is injustice.<br /> "My younger son goes to school but the older one can’t go because<br /> I do not have any income. We struggle to buy some potato or yoghurt. I had to take him out of school. Sometimes he sells a single egg or a potato, sometimes we don’t manage to sell anything. I do not have any work, I cannot go anywhere, I'm handicapped at home. If I was in good health I’d look for a job, but I’m practically disabled.<br /> "My husband used to make a living; he had a small cafeteria selling potatoes, eggs, cheese, sandwiches and tea. We were in a better situation, but after he died, we’re by ourselves and we’re tired of everything.<br /> "I get migraines, I survive on treatment, and if my medicine is interrupted I won’t be able to speak at all with the pain. The shock and pressure we go through after my husband died… blood pressure, heart problems, my spine…<br /> "Once back from my displacement I saw that my house had completely collapsed, all windows shattered. My bed was in a puddle because it was the rainy season. Everything was in ruins, there was nothing we could save.<br /> "It took us a whole year to get the water out of the house and repair it. My brother-in-law helped us do it. We had like a lake in our house. I borrowed money and sold anything I had, like cooking gas. I’m still in debt. Our neighbours and relatives helped us get cement.<br /> "I call on the world to support us with aid and mercy, the Muslim and oppressed people who are in urgent need. I appeal to the organizations to get to know the needs of the people and to look at the conditions families are living in; families who have nothing because of the war."<br /> <br /> Photo and text: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 3 February, 2019
  • Amir, 16, with his mother Samira and brother Naji in the background. Amir lost his 55-year-old father in an air strike on their neighbourhood in Hajjah that also badly damaged their house. Amir was also injured in the attack and has dropped out of school to make some money for the family.<br /> <br /> "I was in the market when the first air strike hit. Then a second strike hit close to the house, which destroyed everything. We tried to move away after the first hit but we were injured. A shrapnel hit my father in the head and then an electricity pole fell on his head, and I was hit in my head too.<br /> "When I resumed consciousness, my uncle took me to the hospital here, but they sent me to Sana’a in the Republican Hospital. When we were in Sana'a, there were also air strikes, so we were forced to go to the city of Amran to the Republican Hospital there. At about 12 am we returned to Sana'a at Al Thawra Hospital.<br /> "I entered the operating room in the afternoon and they kept operating till 1am. We stayed in Sanaa for a whole week and then returned to our village. When I returned from the hospital Sanaa they told me that my father had died. I went into a coma for a week.<br /> When I regained my senses they told me they had already buried my father. I visited my father’s grave later.<br /> "I used to go to school at the time but I had to stop after my father died. I was in fifth grade. I took up my father’s work, selling eggs. I stopped going to the school to provide for my family, besides all the trips to hospital and back that went on for two years; it was very tiring.<br /> "My life has been ruined; it’s gone. My head still hurts. My childhood is gone since this war started. Everything has been destroyed.<br /> I hope that the parties to the conflict will reconcile, and help the people in most need; that they find a solution to stop the war. The Yemeni people have been through enough.<br /> "I’d love to return to school and continue my studies, but it’s difficult when we have no sources of income."<br /> <br /> Photo and text: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 3 February, 2019
  • Samira Ahmed Hamoud (centre), 44, widow who lost her husband, 55, in an air strike on their neighbourhood in Hajjah that also badly damaged their house, flanked by her sons Naji, 10, and Amir, 16. Amir was also injured in the attack and has dropped out of school to make some money for the family.<br /> <br /> "My name is Samira Ahmed Hamoud Al Tali. My husband died on Friday afternoon. There was an airstrike … my husband died on the street while he was running towards us. My son got injured … I got injured too.I broke my back. I have eight rods in my spine. My leg has almost atrophied from the right side.<br /> "Since the aggression started my children’s condition and mine. My house was badly damaged and my neighbours’ completely destroyed. We were displaced … our house destroyed … everything gone. We were in a lot of distress after my husband died. <br /> "We’re now going into the fifth year since the beginning of the aggression and we’re still living a massive injustice.<br /> "My husband and my children were in the market, and we had airstrikes reaching the shops there. He was first hit by shrapnel and they eventually found him dead.<br /> My son has an injury in his head. He was injured here he also had an open wound up here. He stayed in the hospital for about two months. He was here in the street ... I was at my neighbour’s. I did not realize but they told me that my husband was killed and my son was injured.<br /> "My condition was difficult. I ran to the place and fell on my back.<br /> My back is broken and I still have eight rods and two metal plates.<br /> I fled to the countryside with my children. People took me in and I was in state of shock.<br /> "I stayed away from my house for a month, then we returned. Neighbours and relatives came to my house to see me but we never got anything from the government. We got 60,000 Yemeni Riyals once, then we never saw them again. It’s as if people who died on the streets are nobodies. This is so unfair. This is injustice.<br /> "My younger son goes to school but the older one can’t go because<br /> I do not have any income. We struggle to buy some potato or yoghurt. I had to take him out of school. Sometimes he sells a single egg or a potato, sometimes we don’t manage to sell anything. I do not have any work, I cannot go anywhere, I'm handicapped at home. If I was in good health I’d look for a job, but I’m practically disabled.<br /> "My husband used to make a living; he had a small cafeteria selling potatoes, eggs, cheese, sandwiches and tea. We were in a better situation, but after he died, we’re by ourselves and we’re tired of everything.<br /> "I get migraines, I survive on treatment, and if my medicine is interrupted I won’t be able to speak at all with the pain. The shock and pressure we go through after my husband died… blood pressure, heart problems, my spine…<br /> "Once back from my displacement I saw that my house had completely collapsed, all windows shattered. My bed was in a puddle because it was the rainy season. Everything was in ruins, there was nothing we could save.<br /> "It took us a whole year to get the water out of the house and repair it. My brother-in-law helped us do it. We had like a lake in our house. I borrowed money and sold anything I had, like cooking gas. I’m still in debt. Our neighbours and relatives helped us get cement.<br /> "I call on the world to support us with aid and mercy, the Muslim and oppressed people who are in urgent need. I appeal to the organizations to get to know the needs of the people and to look at the conditions families are living in; families who have nothing because of the war."<br /> <br /> Photo and text: Karl Schembri/NRC<br /> Photo taken on 3 February, 2019
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