Loved ones under rubble
Rubble and ruins is also what is left of Mahdi's life. While he was on duty as a guard a couple of kilometers away from his home, his wife brought him her last supper. She was fasting during the day, and broke fast with him at sunset. They had been married for eight months and were very much in love. Hours later, at 2am, the hundred habitants of the small hilltop village, Jabal Ayoub, woke up to two airstrikes, one after the other. Except four people who never were to wake up again; Mahdi’s wife, his cousin, as well as a toddler and a baby in the neighboring house.
“I found my home destroyed. It was there just hours before, and then now, gone. Someone came and told me that my wife had died. She was under the rubble. For what crime, for what reason? They killed my wife for no reason. I feel devastated.” Mahdi’s voice gets shaky as he continues. “Now, I am desperate, whenever I remember what happened I feel empty. When I think about the future, I don’t see anything, I am lost.”
His deepest cut is not the rubble, but the wife that he found lifeless under it.
War is bombs, guns and explosions, violence that has taken a disproportional toll on civilians in this already impoverished country. But in Yemen, war is cutting into each family, each person, and through the social fabric holding the country together.
Photo: NRC/Alvhild Stromme